To Market with the Hippie- Wanna-be’s.

Just watched this hilarious piss taking of the new age ethical living/ hippy culture which summed up this blog post perfectly… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnbtRiLamsw

Alternative Thoughts

Sunday Morning: a magical period of time often spent harbouring hang overs, marinating in bed before brunching;  training for a marathon or participating in the coolest activity right now: visiting the markets.

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I know I know, markets have been around forever, certainly before mass production took over (when we actually knew WTF was in our produce).

Like everything though, trends are cyclical, being regurgitated by different generations for differing purposes.

While I don’t want to be overly neggy on this summery Sunday, my recent trip to the local farmers market has left me slightly cynical about the marketers and their free luvin’ vibe.

A quick round of the vegan- tree hugging grounds, enhanced by the sounds of the dread locked musos, and sight of bare foot, bra-less locals moving organically to the beats, only highlights just how squeaky clean, westernised and outa’ place I am.

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Despite being born and raised…

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A Lumpy Liberation

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Breaking News Ya’ll! A lady and her lumps have graced news headlines once more, encouraging us to celebrate as if we have found a cure for cancer, and gawk over the plus sized achievement.

As suggested by previous posts, my position on the body image campaign aint’ exactly a secret.

However, while Sports Illustrated’s decision did encourage a carb-athon ,and the healthy cover girl is indeed a positive movement, I can not help but feel cynical.

I mean… REALLY? it is 2015 and we (an educated, liberated, open-minded western civilisation, apparently) are celebrating a shift from underweight, extremely hungry representations of femininity as if scientists have discovered a new gender…

HOW IS THIS EVEN A THING?

As highlighted in the clip below, it is not our body shapes that have changed over time, it’s societies ideal image of the female figure (cheers). Having spent a long summer beaching, the wonderfully wide spectrum on which our body shapes vary is as obvious and present as ever, thankfully.

 

While the rig- rating panels will probably always exist, on personal and global levels, it seems as though there is a tug of war going on.

In a nutshell; curvy ladies are skinny shaming, and many plus size women are being slammed for being ‘bigger’ and ‘larger’ than the #norm.

It is not wonder then, that the issue of [Women’s] liberation, is rather confusing.

The age old question of whether women do certain things like breathe, dress [or pose semi naked on the cover of Sports Illustrated] for themselves or men, arose while I was wrapped around a pole and humping walls on Friday night.

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One of my gal pals decided to dive through our feminist layers and release our inner sexual beasts for her birthday, and I of course I am not one to refuse such an invite!

After wrapping our minds and arses around the basic sequences, it was easy to see just how much full body strength is required to perform on a pole, and also how achievable and liberating it can be!

As we crawled around slapping each others bums and coordinated our moves to Chicago, the hysterical laughter expressed just how much feather bower fun we were having, as we focused on nothing other than ourselves for the hour.

It was not until the lap dancing lesson (two champas & hours in) that I started to question whether or not I felt liberated or objectified.

Using chairs as props, we were encouraged to visualise our lovers seated with their legs opened after we had opened and straddled them (LOL).

As I tried to execute the moves while watching my friends in all their glory, I was also debating whether I felt empowered or as if I was being trained to entertain the Hugh Heifer’s of the world.

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When the Sports Illustrated news broke, I couldn’t help but notice the mixed commentary offered by random men and women who seemed to hold very strong opinions on the models body. This just communicated more over, how warped, conflicted and damaged our societies attitudes towards #body image; #empowerment/ #liberation, #sexism and #feminism are.

(WATCH IT!)

I would like to finish with a TED talk from an incredibly inspiring AUSTRALIAN woman who was a victim of her mother’s interpretation of femininity, empowerment and human rights. While female genital mutation is on another level of seriousness than verbal/ written objectification and bullying, all of these issues allude to a gap.

There seems to be a river dividing the western idealistic equal gendered, fully liberated, non judgemental and non sexist island many of us intend to live on, and the troubled reality we are currently swimming in.

I propose that we build some poles and swing along to the other side… Maybe then we will freely embrace our animal instincts, no matter our size!

Happy Wednesday !

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Market with the Hippie- Wanna-be’s.

Sunday Morning: a magical period of time often spent harbouring hang overs, marinating in bed before brunching;  training for a marathon or participating in the coolest activity right now: visiting the markets.

10942789_10155124786630182_1648551081_n

I know I know, markets have been around forever, certainly before mass production took over (when we actually knew WTF was in our produce).

Like everything though, trends are cyclical, being regurgitated by different generations for differing purposes.

While I don’t want to be overly neggy on this summery Sunday, my recent trip to the local farmers market has left me slightly cynical about the marketers and their free luvin’ vibe.

A quick round of the vegan- tree hugging grounds, enhanced by the sounds of the dread locked musos, and sight of bare foot, bra-less locals moving organically to the beats, only highlights just how squeaky clean, westernised and outa’ place I am.

10927904_10155124786555182_79288080_n

Despite being born and raised in the area in which the markets are held, and the fact that my curly hair and apparent ‘free- spirit’ has often lead others to assume I am a market regular, my supportive bra, boutique bought (probably sweat shop produced) clothing and foot wear suggests that I may have missed the memo.

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I am referring to the memo set by fellow gen Y’ers, the ones waltzing around shoe-less, coconut in one hand, smart phone in the other, with freshly coloured and straightened hair framing their make up covered (pierced) faces, who are often found patting random dogs without holding a convo with the owner, but ensuring a selfie is captured.

While I made a conscious effort to not be confused by the Tiger Lilly ($$$) bikinis layered under a cheap Bali dress, or the Converse and other labels bearded (grubby looking) lads feature, and drop the judgement in a hippy- like way, I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculouseness of the babe in front of me in the veggie line.

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Not only did the gal reject my smile, she overtly stole the bananas out of my go- green bag because ‘they were the ones she was looking at’, before taking a photo of her produce.

It was when her BF questioned whether they were ‘gram- worthy’ and she responded with  a “please, I have over 12 K followers 😉” that my sister had to restrain me from tossing oranges at her head.

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While it would be hypocritical of me to diss anyone gramming’ their activities, embracing the hippy vibe and mixing simple necessities with modern day luxuries, I can’t help but feel as confused as these coconuts seem.

“These days it seems every bae needs to have a fixie push bike with a basket and fresh daises attached to it”

As we all know, the raw, vegan, organic, animal loving + western world hating trend is growing rapidly. What I don’t get is how this is juxtaposed by the popping of poisonous pills and frequent weed consumption?! While I am aware that no cows were harmed in the process, surely such activities are doing more damage than a chicken parmi?

Organic living has become a  fashionable trend (for some) that is just as costly as a processed one, and is not necessarily more morally correct.

Despite my expectations, no one at the hippy farm is any friendlier than the local Woolies customers, in fact an air of snobbery and superiority seems to float between the peppermint trees.

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Not only are western- hating comments dropped regularly around the market (and therefore chairs must be avoided) little gratitude or appreciation is ever shown for the luxurious life we are able to live; one of freedom and safety, made a little easier by one-stop shops.

As made obvious by some of my previous posts, I am all for healthy living and exploring of different cultures, ways of life etc. I think it’s really great that we are reverting to our old ways and avoiding cancerous chemicals where we can! I just don’t see any point in pretending that we are living a HIPPIE life, when we return to our cushy beds each night, to check the gram.

That is all I’ve got to say today, Namaste bitches!

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Lose the ‘tude.

Okay, you’re going to have to excuse me. I’m finally on uni break so my brain function is limited, which combined with the country air, beach runs, vino consumption and morning yoga, has sent me into a light coma. The happy- land daze has worked its magic; putting shit in perspective, making it really hard to be negative.

Being neggy actually isn’t fun at all. It takes energy to hate, judge, bitch, assume and participate in the rumour mill. But when we are stressed we can easily get caught up in it, particularly when we feel shitty about ourselves, our life, jobs, acquaintances and relationships. Especially when we feel small, incapable or threatened. image Stupidly, we project our self- ridicule, judgment and insecurities onto each other, in an attempt to feel better about ourselves, or to entertain.

With the daily bulletins constantly reminding us of the shocking and scary happenings of the world, it’s not always easy to smell the roses, or to not feel guilty when trying to. Mainstream media platforms are experts at making us feel extra shitty, fearful and inadequate, to ensure they maintain power.

As well as promoting the capitalist, secular (not to mention sexist, racist and xenophobic) views of the corporations funding them, the only ‘new idea’ or ‘good medicine‘ that is reinforced is the skill of scrutiny. image Last week we had the WAG parades in Australia- the awards nights that celebrate the achievements of AFL and NRL football players.

Now I’m all for a bit of glitz & glam, and I can appreciate sexiness and beauty- as y’all know; I’m all about that base.

What I am NOT about, is measuring strangers waist sizes, boob to ass ratio or eye brow contouring, or rating them on a scale, mainly because I don’t fucking know them. Also because they are not a piece of meat.

In saying this, it was when I was watching the recent interview with the first (former) female prime minister of OZ a few days ago, that I remembered just how hurtful and damaging scrutiny can be. image I was never a fan of Julia Gillard– her political bandwagon, her argumentative approach, her suites or her waddle. Her accent is on another level. I often joined in on the JG hate train, ‘coz ya know, I’ve run a country so I know better! [We all know I’d be kicked out and locked up in the first week of office for swearing in parliament.]

Of all the anecdotes she told, mistakes she owned and resilience she showed in response to the bullshit said about her private life, (in the interview) there were two main points that stood out for me.

The first was Julia’s recollection of the hourly phone calls her assistant received from (bored and pathetic) members of the public who disapproved of the necklace, earrings, skirt or hair- style she was last seen sporting. WTF!

The OTHER part that stood out to me was Gillard’s reliance on her daily YOGA practice and workout regime. imageIn battling the nation wide hate brigade, Julia resorted to the down ward dog, like I do, to fight her natural urge to retaliate. While the pressures did get the better of her, (understandably) Gillard can now draw a link between the ridicule and her defensive actions.

This is the type of realization that comes when we are forced to STOP, breathe, move and reflect. Not only was it exciting to hear that JG isn’t afraid of viewing life from different angles, {being the counseling student that I am}, it was comforting to know that someone whose been subjected to a lot of lows (amongst highs) has reaped the benefits of yoga.

“What others think of me is none of my business”

I drink, swear and love a good steak. I’m not a stereotypical yogini, but I practice it regularly. I do it for my head- to clear it,  let go of shit that doesn’t serve my life, and accept what I cannot control (like others perceptions).

Turning the focus INWARD not only teachers us about who we REALLY are rather than what we are trying/ told to be, it turns it off others. image Yoga helps us to accept and love ourselves, while accepting the different stages we may be at or challenges we might have. I wish I could tell you EXACTLY how it works, but all I’ve figured out is that the marriage of philosophy, sweat, stretching, releasing and ‘omming’ works absolute wonders for the mind body and soul. And you know the best part? it kills our super-ego– forcing us to lose the ‘tude and be nicer people to be around.

I encourage y’all to try it out, or at least go for a nice walk and smell the roses.   image