Swim Suit Sabotage

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Last Saturday my friend and I went shopping. Considering summer is rapidly approaching, bathers were silently placed at the top of the list.

I say silently because, between us, the particular time of the month we visited, pizza and vino consumption from the night before, lack of waxing and a full time job/ disgusting university assignments deemed us less than cover shoot ready. According to ourselves anyway.

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Doubt surrounding whether we were beach ready was quickly forgotten however, when we entered the Seafolly haven of bright colours, barely- there brazillian style genital cages, mixed in with fuller briefs and one pieces that seem to be missing parts. All in the name of farrrsharn, right?

Despite the scary thought of being caught in a rip in the majority of pieces, I was rather impressed with the brands latest range. It was not until I had both arms stacked with varying styles in a cloud of optimism and exotic island fantasy, when I heard a lovely, down to earth, very approachable shop assistant say, (in an empathetic tone, while frantically clipping the high pile of change room returns) “Nobody is ever happy. Every day I hear about the body parts women dream of nipping and tucking…”.

Remaining on my delusional planet, I brushed off the comment with a “poor girls, fuck society” thought, while rolling my eyes at the model on the wall. It wasn’t until someone FINALLY freed up a change room (departing in a huff) that I could join my pal in the neighbouring box. And then BOOM. My plane landed so suddenly on the tar mat, that I hit my head.

Well that is what it felt like, as the wave of self-doubt and ridicule set in. That poor little gluten-free pizza was copping a lot of blame for the mirror image staring back at me… apparently the hips don’t lie. (What purpose have all the kale juices served? maybe I should have given up sugar after all!)

img-thingNow, I’ve never been one to shy away from water environments, and I love the free feeling of floating around in my kini’ poolside, particularly with a coconut or mojito in hand.  I usually do so after devouring some form of carbs, I’m married to pasta after all. Simply put, I consider myself a comfortable bikini wearer.

Maybe it was hormones, the confined space in which I assessed ever angle of myself in, or the ‘pressure‘ from the poor souls offering constant support to silent customers. Or maybe it was the images I had been swamped with in the catalogue, on social media, or in my head. Ridiculous expectations once again, had dropped a hot (bird like) shit on my head.

Luckily, my wonderful gal pal came to the rescue, slipping into my changing hot box and sorting me out (just as she has, time and time again, throughout Europe and over lotsa vino and antipasto). Thanks to our backpacking experiences, my gal is well and truly familiar with my body shape and proved that, she does actually know what suits me, better than I do. Funnily, I was able to do the same for her, just not myself.

After re- evaluating my priorities, self-development and whether or not all those meditation classes had actually been worth the silence and ass numbing, I went on my phone, and saw the back lash the latest Victoria Secret campaign has received world-wide.

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And then I realised: ohhh that’s right, I’m just another gal, who has fallen victim to the UNREALISTIC expectations created by the media, once again.

  • This might be why we are never happy
  • This might be why eating disorders, depression and anxiety rates are on the rise
  • This might be why women bitch about each other and themselves all the time
  • This may have something to do with the beauty industry
  • This may be why so many fad diets exist
  • This DEFINITELY is a major issue.

THERE IS HOPE THOUGH!

In response To the Victoria Secret campaign, lingerie brand JD Williams has launched a #PerfectlyImperfect campaign to promote body confidence for all women, of all ages, sizes and shapes.

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The campaign includes the above image which features models size 10-16.

The brand hopes that the #FavouriteFlaw hashtag on social media platforms will inspire women to share the things they love about themselves and encourage others to look at their own bodies in a positive light – in a celebration of real beauty.

When I next brave the self sabotage that can be swim suit shopping, I plan to take this image with me, along with perspective in the form of an honest friend, quite like Stephy.

In the mean time, I’ll eat some curry, do some yoga and continue to work towards challenging to dominant views that are eating us up.

FYI- I found two fabulous sets that I plan to rock all summer along.

Happy Summer!

 

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Boy- Blaming is as Stupid as Kale ‘Chips’!

I was not born politically correct. As hard as my parents, friends parents and teachers tried, I failed to accept the status quo, instead asking a shit-load of WHY questions (and swearing a lot). Rules are not my friend, nor are institutions or religions that demand we act and think in a particular way (particularly when used to justify disgusting behaviour).

Because we don’t really know how we will respond to a situation until we experience it first hand, I like to let the present moment determine what the hell I do.

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I am quite a conflicted cookie in my views, and while I aspire to be a special petal whose views are NEVER racist, sexist or discriminatory, selfish or materialistic,  I am a sinful sista who isn’t necessarily seeking forgiveness. Being a perfect person can be hard, defining ‘perfect’ is even harder.

On my days off spent down-ward dogging & omm-ing and watching doco’s on the horrible injustices of the world, I’m all for the sharing of tax payers money, aid and support. How could I not be? There is enough wealth in the world for everyone to be equal.

However, I have had my moments, where my patience and perseverance has worn thin after eight gross hours of dealing with dick heads (the public)/ wiping babies bums and boogies (and vom) where I consider an ‘every man for himself ‘ attitude because I work HARD 4 da money (to hell I go!).

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My constant battle between perfection and not giving a fuck includes the jumping between the months I choose to be murdered by hot wax and those I don’t, kale ‘chips‘ (they are NOT chips!) and hotdogs, and make- up over bare- faced beauty. While the sans- bra verses push up dilemma may seem trivial, it is one that is influenced by a cocktail of belief systems, that determine how I am apparently respected and valued as a human being, and as girl.

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Having attended a private girls school for 10 long years of wearing mens shirts & ties and knee-length sacks designed to deflect as much ‘D’ as possible, the  strong-willed, intelligent, healthy, determined, independent profile of #femininity was well and truly drummed into my straw hat sheltered noggin.

Studying social sciences, which involves a constant banging on about the lack of equality in the rights and respect I receive as an objectified female in a patriarchal society, has only highlighted the battle on new levels.

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It would be safe to assume that my apparent free-spirited vibe and well-travelled life, combined with my education, hometown (‘hippy land’) (and past relationships) could possibly equate to a man- hating, system- bashing perspective that does not include razors, plastic surgery or, heaven forbid, loving a sinful, wealthy business man, and I would not DARE be caught dead in a kitchen baking scones, particularly if they are for a man.

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OF COURSE the extent to which the wolves of wall street abuse their power infuriates me. The gender pay gap pisses me off, the thought or rape scares and disgusts me, and if a guy ever demanded sex or a sandwich, his little willy might be chopped right off. I can also recognise that I would born into a country where I don’t experience inhumane violations of rights or gender oppression either.

HOWEVER.. I feel like men can get a pretty bad rap these days, especially in relation to women’s insecurities and independence.

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There are a lot of guys who participate in the same classes as me, who share a frustration with existing inequality and the agenda setters of the propaganda we are subjected to.

My counselling units consist of a cross-section of guys from different disciplines, and you know what? a lot of them are more empathetic and helpful in their practice (and general convo) than the ladies.

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While I may have had my heart hurt, I’ve often run crying to my male pals who have spent hours listening to my dramatic outbursts and provided a lot of love and advice. It is not fair to assume men don’t experience the emotions women do, or to expect them to express them in the ways we do. There are gender differences, and the way I, along with my gal pals, often blame boys for our problems is  pathetic.

One of the things I admire about a particularly friend of mine, is her honesty about her life goals. While she is a smart, pretty, open minded, well- travelled LADY with a business degree, she kinda just wants to marry to the man of her dreams, make some adorable bambinos and cook her Nonna’s lasagna.

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Loving a man does not necessarily strip someone of their independence, especially if they have chosen to. As modern women we can be ‘strong’ and ‘successful’ and still want to be cuddled and reassured. And if we enjoy having the door held or accepting a free drink, then good for us! (Whats so bad about Chivalry?)

All I am saying, is that men are not the only cause of women’s issues, and it’s silly to generalise and put all the blame on them. Not all guys support the pay gap, nor do they only want girls for sex. As a naturally independent person, I am tired of being told that I must be so all the time, and that I shouldn’t wear a tight skirt unless I want to be objectified.

I like my ass, I like guys and I am a strong-minded (obviously), independent woman.

The End.

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What Happened to the Sisterhood?

Why are we so MEAN?

It’s a question I have repeated a lot recently, but when the world I live in is blowing innocent children and Aids workers out of the sky, killing civilians  because of their religious beliefs and denying millions of women the right to rule their own body and future (amongst a lot of other political bullshit) its hard to see the good in the humans of 2014.

Of course, however, the above issues are very complicated and exist in “those” foreign, unsafe, uneducated, war ridden corrupt places far from our beautiful western bubble of equality, safety and love… right?

WRONG.

We are riddled with the pressures of unrealistic expectations fuelled by corporations hungry for our $$, dignity, mind body and soul.

As most of us are aware, these illusions can turn the majority of peeps into very insecure people, leading us to inflict mental, physical and emotional suffering on ourselves. Whilst this is a major issue, and I wish we could all learn to accept and love all the parts that make us our own people, for our own sake and the sake of everyone… there is NO justification for projecting this shit onto others… particularly people we DO NOT KNOW.

We all come in different shapes and sizes. It seems a no brainer, and yet we constantly ridicule ourselves and of course others. Body shaming seems to be bigger than ever, probably because of my exposure to it in the form of trolling on social media.

As some of my gal pals may we aware, Perth born WAG Rebecca Judd posted a bikini selfie on Instagram, exposing her slim (post baby) figure last night. Within 15 minutes over 900 comments were shot at the models photo, expressing mixed views on her body, her life choices, and whether or not she was a healthy role model.

Rebecca claimed to be promoting the tan line she models for. Regardless of her intentions, the mum of two OWNED her body and her DECISION to post the image. REGARDLESS of the multitude of opinions held by MOTHERS expressing extremely direct and rude opinions, Rebecca never ASKED for them.

That’s the thing about ridicule and judgement, we inflict and receive it without asking for it. Humans, particularly FEMALES inflicting this hurt on each other. Haven’t we learnt anything from the Charlotte Dawson ordeal? What is it about the screens we hide behind that makes this behaviour okay?

I am not claiming to be a perfect human being who only sees rainbows and butterflies when my sisters present highly editing illusions of  their lives over social media. What I am saying that for the sake of each other’s mental well- being, can’t we just shut the fuck up? Keep our opinions to ourselves until we can learn to love ourselves and therefore each other. If not, at least RESPECT each other on the basis that they too are trying to survive on this planet?

Oh, and maybe then we could stop killing each other?

Cheers

Happy Saturday.