Go on & fool me…

In lieu of excellent fashion content (currently live in jammies) I thought I’d give you a wee injection of nail art joy. I’m hoping I may find the motivation to wear something awesome soon. Please stick with me!

My lovely mother has a habit of buying presents, forgetting about them & stumbling upon them after intended event. Thus I received a big bag of extra Xmas presents last week. Included was some excellent holographic polish from M&S. Cruelty free & hard wearing. I recommend. I’m loving this broken mirror look.

Silver nails with black shattered glass effect

I layered the Barry M Hi Vis blue to create this cute night & day manicure. The Hi Vis range is so good for creating your own shades. They look amazing on their own and make totally new shades if applied on top of another colour.

Blue manicure with clouds &  sun on one hand moon &  stars on other

Finally a wee homage to my youth with these 90’s Romeo & Juliet inspired nails. I went on a kind of mass date (with half my year group) to see the Baz Luhrmann R&J and adored the aesthetic. I also played the soundtrack non stop for about 2yrs. Needless to say, I was a fan.

90’s Romeo & Juliet style manicure with flaming hearts, gold barbed wire & tattoo style roses

Not to blame…

As this pandemic continues to wreak havoc there is an increasing need for a scapegoat. Predictably, fat people have become a convenient target. Navigating this strange new world is hard enough without all the finger pointing.

Magnified image of covid virus

If you’re feeling hounded, I get it. I’m fiercely fat positive & always prepared to fly the body liberation flag. Even I am finding the constant barrage of fat phobia exhausting. With our feckless PM giving credence to a BMI/Covid link and the tabloids eating it up it is understandable that we feel attacked. When the government makes weight stigma policy it absolutely feeds the trolls.

For the record, losing 5lbs will not make you less likely to contract covid nor will it effect the severity of the virus if you do. Like much of the Tories covid 19 response it is not rooted in science. In fact, it is too early for any studies to provide reliable data on the impact of covid on fat bodies. Especially when the intersections with poverty, disability, poor medical care etc are often not factored into research.

Fat phobic newspaper headlines

You are not irresponsible for living in a fat body. You are not a burden on the NHS. You are deserving of the same care & respect as anyone else. If you need help reinforcing these facts or dealing with others who refuse to accept them I highly recommend checking out the resources below. I have linked to their Instagram accounts from which you can find all their links/books.

Jess Campbell (haes_studentdoctor) is as her insta implies a student doctor with a Health at Every Size approach. She shares excellent information in a really straightforward manner.

Dr Natasha Larmie (fatdruk) is a GP in the UK who campaigns to end medical weight stigma. She shares her own experience along with insightful analysis. Definitely a must follow.

If you aren’t already aware of Dr Joshua Wolrich where have you been? He is an NHS surgical doctor who promotes HAES, debunks junk weight loss science & has a much anticipated book due very soon.

Lindo Bacon is a body liberation author, speaker & researcher. Their first book, Health at Every Size completely changed my understanding of how my body works & the effect of dieting. I cannot recommend their work enough.

Image of book,  health at every size lindo bacon

I only recently discovered HPWAS (Health Professionals Against Weight Stigma) and I am so glad. As a fat person it can be difficult to deal with the medical community. It is therefore very reassuring to know there are professionals trying to change things from within. They are currently collecting lived experiences of medical fat phobia. Please do consider sharing if you feel able.

Big fat love to everyone struggling.

Watching the wheels go round & round…

I’m almost a year into lockdown. There were a few fun outings last year, but for the most part I’ve been home. Man alive, I’m fed up! I’ve reached the take comfort wherever you find it stage. Turns out that’s some random locations.

Old crime shows. Not flashy American ones. They’re too full of hero talk & ridiculously good looking people. They offer no comfort. What I like is late 90’s gritty UK stuff. Proper dark crimes with complicated twisted characters and very few happy endings. It probably speaks to my craziness that these are the tales I seek solace in, but hey ho.

Posters for waking the dead, wire in the blood and cracker

Tic Tacs. I’ve no idea why. A pack of cherry cola ones came free with something I ordered and now I am hooked. I’m not usually big sweetie eater, but sucking on these seems to really help my concentration. Is this some kind of regression to infantile soothing? Who knows. They’re damn tasty, so I’ll carry on.

Candles with fresh outdoorsy scents. Perhaps because I never go anywhere & I miss the world. Probably also because my cat won’t stop farting. Either way I’m obsessed with anything with a whiff of the sea or a refreshing mountain breeze.

White roses in a vase, candles, photo frames on decorative table

Lists. If it isn’t on my to do list I will definitely forget all about it. Lockdown has made this habit rather more frenzied. Every minute activity must be noted & crossed off. I think it might be a reaction to living such a restricted life. I suspect breathing will be included very soon.

Fleecy bed sheets. I’m obsessed. Bought one set on a whim and now want nothing else on my bed. They’re so unbelievably soft and warm. I’ve purchased another complete set and loads of fitted sheets. This way I can have some fleecy goodness with ever duvet set. It’s the closet thing I can get to a snuggle mid pandemic.

Grey fleecy bedsheets

John Oliver. The man is a marvel; smart, funny & genuinely decent. I’ve been rewatching old episodes of Last Week Tonight and finding interviews on YouTube. It boosts my sense of well being to know good people exist in the world. If they can make me laugh out loud all the better.

John Oliver laughing

Dedicated follower of fashion…

The fashion aspect of this blog has been lacking of late. I’m a pj’s all day girl at the moment and I’ve given up buying new clothes as there’s nowhere to wear them. I have however been aching for a little pick me up. Enter face fashion.

I decided it was time for some new glasses. I’ve fancied something bold and blue for a while. I was chuffed to discover the perfect pair. Little bit retro & a lot blue.

Ly is wearing blue cateye glasses and smiling
Glasses – Where.light

Whilst I was looking I stumbled upon a bargain than I could not resist. These tortoiseshell pretties joined my collection too.

ly is Erin’s tortoiseshell half frame glasses.  She is smiling

If you love my frames you can grab yourself a bargain with my discount code. They have the coolest frames & best prices.

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* Affiliate, but not a paid post.

My sign is vital, my hands are cold…

CW: Self Harm

Lately I’ve been having regular checks for the heart rate thing. The nurse who took my blood & vitals last week was really familiar. I had that strange I’ve definitely met you feeling, but also knew I didn’t know her, know her. I couldn’t place her at all until a loud clatter startled her. Her sharp intake of breathe shot me back in time.

She was the nurse I stunned with my self destruction in this same hospital many years ago. She either didn’t recognise me or correctly judged it best not to indicate that she had. She was friendly & kind, but the sound of that inhale shook me. I was back there, covered in blood & guilt.

I can so clearly remember walking into that triage room. Concisely explaining why I was there & seeing the doubt in her eyes. I could tell she thought the large towel on my arm was overkill. I knew she was weighing up how to nicely dismiss me. I was too tired to do anything other than unwrap the makeshift dressing & expose the truth.

Foggy picture of cars outside hospital. Words ambulance only painted on ground

The inner layers were blood soaked & the final one stuck to the wound. When I yanked it off with same the lack of self care that had led me to that room, she gasped. An entirely involuntary expression of what; shock? disgust? fear? I couldn’t discern, but I knew it wasn’t good.

The speed that she whipped through the triage routine was more about her discomfort than mine. I had long lost my objectivity. I sought treatment as a means of calling a halt to that cut. I had given up seeking enough. I knew that enough was a lie. When I looked at my arm I really couldn’t tell anymore if it was any worse than anything else I had done to myself. It was just another failed attempt to carve out some peace.

Peace that I knew was never coming. I already felt stupid & ashamed & so horribly guilty. For all the usual reasons and now also because it was obvious I had ruined this women’s night. She hadn’t bargained for my level of determined self loathing; I’d upset her. I felt selfish for not being more clear. I shouldn’t have allowed anyone to be caught off guard.

I wanted to be better. Do better. I wished I could give this nurse & everyone else the explanation they needed. I yearned to be somewhere else. I didn’t even want to do this anymore. My blades had long since lost efficacy. I could never cut deep enough. Never shed enough blood. The quiet I needed was evermore elusive. I was desperate and so fucking tired. Yet, I still couldn’t stop.

As I waited for her to finish with my blood pressure I was stuck in the past. Mired in the dread. Reliving the experience of having my arm stapled shut whilst already planning the next assault. Knowing I couldn’t escape the nagging voice in my head that insisted I must cut. I must earn any rest. I had to atone for sins I wasn’t able to articulate. I had to release all the fetid emotion with my blood.

When I left I felt blessed. And cursed. Blessed that I was wrong. I did escape. I have hushed that internal need for penance. Cursed because I still haven’t silenced it. There will always be triggers pulling me back. Days when my scars itch to be opened. You can’t play with fire & not get burned. The magic is remembering I know how to make it stop. I just have to wake up every day and choose this new, better life. Easy, right?

Black and white photo oh plus size woman looking at scarred arm

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down…

Are you losing the plot yet? I fear I’m getting there. Lockdown is getting harder. If like me you already have less than perfect mental health, you may be closer to the edge than most.

I’m with you. I’m finding all this time alone is churning up lots of issues I would prefer remain undisturbed. The isolation is leaving far too much room for pondering big issues. Existential questions that I couldn’t answer before the world went mad & are even more confounding now. I swing between Groundhog Day dread and being on jangly high alert. Trying to break the monotony of another day home alone by sorting your underwear drawer is a tiny bit depressing. My already racing heart attempting to burst right out my chest every time my noisy neighbours thump really isn’t fun either.

Am I doing anything that matters? Am I running out of time & is this pandemic melting huge chunks of what is left? Can I continue to makes ends meet? Am I doing enough for those who can’t? Can I get a Tesco delivery slot or my prescription? Will I ever get rid of long covid? Will all my loved ones get through this unscathed and will we ever be permitted to be in the same room again? This shit is only the tip of the iceberg. Beneath the surface are all the intrusive thoughts and fears of catastrophe.

Image of iceberg above & below waterline. The sea is vivid blue.

I say this with the knowledge that I am in a privileged position. I have security & a support system that many do not. Too many people are living in situations that are perilous in every possible way. Accessing even the most basic of assistance is getting harder. Half a carrot, a handful of tuna & frubes will not feed hungry children (if you don’t understand this ref, read this & try to control your rage). When you can’t rely on the system to ensure kids don’t starve you can bet that mental health services are in distress. A fact that has been keeping me awake at night as I worry about my own mental wellbeing.

With that in mind I wanted to share some resources. If you don’t feel you can wait to reach the top of an nhs waiting list one of these may be helpful.

Theses organisations offer reduced cost therapy.

Arbours Association

Frontline Therapist

Problem Shared

The Guild of Psychotherapists

Dedicated to Change Project

The Spark

Sandyford Glasgow

Most universities & colleges offer counselling services. If you are student it’s worth checking out what help your institution can give. Many also offer low cost therapy with students training in psychology disciplines.

You can find online support here:

Samaritans

Mind

Calm

Age UK

Women’s Aid

Beat

The Mix

Childline

There are also local services across the UK, a bit of google research may lead you to affordable (or free) help in your area. I know that none of these options are perfect, I wish I had the answer. In the absence of a complete solution I hope these options might be helpful.

As always when discussing mental health it is important to state that I am not a professional. Please seek advice from your GP in the first instance and contact emergency services if required.

You wear it well…

We have a new strain and new lockdown. Infection rates are rising. As are long covid cases. I can attest that the long term symptoms are a struggle. Now is not the time to get lax. Please stay home as much as you can. Wash those hands every opportunity you get and wear a damn mask.

With a mask you can show that you care about the welfare of others and make a statement. Facemasks don’t have be boring, go for it!

I have a Sara Conde and I love it. Handmade, three layer with a nose wire. It’s super comfy & she has the cutest prints. Who wouldn’t want all these beautiful boobs on their face?

I’m a loud & proud feminist, so this amazing design from KultKutie Handmade rings my bell. If you want to support the sisterhood & public health, this is the way to go.

The advent of masks has scuppered our lipstick game. If you’re missing a big bold lip, KhaatiMeethiLondon has got you.

Fuck the Tories can do no wrong in my eyes. This lyrical beauty gets your point across with a little humour. Three layer with a filter. You’ll feel safe & sassy.

If like me you are prone to losing things DearSoho have the cutest fix. Chains that will up your cool factor and ensure your face mask is always at hand.

Everyday it’s getting colder…

I managed to sneak in a little trip to the park before we completely locked down. I took the opportunity to wear some Xmas pressies since it’s unlikely I’ll be out of lounge wear for quite a while.

The only possible fashion choice in this weather is layers. I piled them on for my icy outing. My excellent Mum found this lovely vegan brand & showered me with their accessories. While my sister indulged my leopard print love.

ly I’m standing in park with walking stick wearing jumpsuit & faux fur coat
Jumpsuit -Asos Curve
Scarf – Pom Boutique
Coat – Marks & Spencer
Cardigan – Boohoo
Boots – Dr Marten
Glasses – Where.light
ly is  wearing leopard print jumpsuit & navy maxi cardi. The photo had Forrest background superimposed
All those mirror selfies are getting boring.

The boy found new ways to play with my walking stick & slid around on the ice with his Mummy. We completed our winter adventure by feeding the wildlife. Those swans are so beautiful, but not above squabbling over grub.

Toddler in coat & Woolly hat in playpark
Pink post it note on frosty leaves
Swans on an icy pond

New year, Same me…

I am preparing for the onslaught of new year, new you bullshit. I suspect a global pandemic will make no dent in the diet industries’ shame tactics. I am starting the year as I intend to go on; as part of the fat positive fanfare.

Since I am a very lucky girl I received the perfect ‘flaunt it’ lingerie for Xmas. I am so happy to finally get my butt into this fabulous set. Body Liberation is about so much more than just self love, but feeling good is really important. Battling fat phobia is a tough, high stakes business. Feeling upbeat about your body helps fuel the fight.

Large bum in pale blue mesh pants with sel love brings beauty embroidered in pink

I want to start the ‘21 by recapping some easy ways to leave internalised fat phobia behind. Self love doesn’t happen overnight, but anyone can learn to appreciate their body. Aim towards acceptance & take it from there.

Step One

Stop consuming anything that makes you feel bad. No, I do not mean food. You eat whatever your body needs. What you must cut is magazines, social media, films etc that give you the idea that you’re not enough. I cannot articulate how big a difference this made to my self esteem. When you are constantly bombarded with the message that there is something wrong with your size, it sinks in.

Step Two

Replace all that negative chatter with joyful body positive content. Fill your feeds with happy fat people living their lives to the Max. Educate yourself on fat politics. Learning how wrong the things we’re taught about fat are is a revelation. As is witnessing people with bodies like yours succeeding.

Large boobs in pale blue harness bra with self loves brings beauty embroidered in pink

Step Three

Explore your body. Look at yourself. Discover how you look in different clothes, in your undies, naked. Let yourself see what you like. Question what bothers you about the parts that you don’t. Practise being kind to yourself. Appreciate the magic of all that your body allows you to do. Touch yourself. Get comfortable with your softness. You will be amazed at how many aspects of your body you already already value.

This is not a route to complete body liberation, but these are tried & tested first steps. You are more than enough. Go forth & love yourself.

ly is posing with her arms above her head wearing pale blue bra & knickers
Bra & Knickers – Playful Promises x Felicity Hayward