Author: somethinginthewayshemoves

On the plus side…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 1 Comment
Fatigue is getting the best of me this week. I am out of spoons, but I don’t want to be out of words on this blog. Hence, I wil be sharing some short pieces I have written for other publications. I hope you find them as absorbing as my usual content.

First up a piece on how body shaming & fat stigma makes plus size infertility an even bigger challenge.

Infertility is heart breaking affair for anyone who wants to have a child. With the NHS now reporting that 1 in 7 couples have difficulty conceiving, infertility is more common that we realise. Thankfully many people in UK will be able to access fertility treatment via the NHS. However, some people are not deemed suitable for treatment. One of the groups who may be denied access are those categorised as clinically obese.

Women with a BMI over 30 are routinely refused fertility treatment. Drs advise them lose weight before they can be referred to a specialist. There are a number of issues with this policy and some are tied in with the way society as a whole views fat people. Let’s begin with index used to measure if a person is obese. Body Mass Index (BMI) has been widely discredited. The index has a number of problems including the fact that BMI does not differentiate between muscle & fat. Hence, people who are fit & have healthy body fat can be classified as obese. Another issue is that BMI does not recognise difference in body shape. It is well established that those who carry their weight around the middle (sometimes known as apple shaped) are at much higher risk of health complications than those who carry excess fat around their hips (pear shaped) [1]. Thus women with very different shapes & risk factors can be labelled with the same BMI. Perhaps the biggest failing is that BMI  does not always change with lifestyle alterations. A person may make significant changes to their health without necessarily losing large amounts of weight. Partaking in regular exercise and switching to a balanced (but not calorie focused) diet will have a huge impact on a person’s wellbeing. Sadly, BMI would not recognise these positive changes unless there is also weight loss. This can put women in the position of focusing on how much they weigh rather than how their lifestyle impacts their wellbeing. BMI uses an arbitrary scale to calculate’ health. Since a person’s health can not be determined on their weight alone; it is bound to fail.

Of course, there are also questions to be asked outside the clinical failings of BMI. It is important to note that there is no official policy on women who are under weight. Despite the fact that being ‘too thin’ can have a bigger impact on a woman’s fertility than being ‘too big’. The medical community appear to jump to the conclusion that fat is always bad. A notion that is reflected in society & that causes plus sized women to face wide spread discrimination. It is estimated that half of pregnancies in the UK have obese mothers. Yet studies show that only 5% of admissions to neonatal units and 4% of preterm births could be avoided if all pregnant women had a ‘normal’ BMI at the start of pregnancy [2].The implications is clear, overweight woman are regularly having healthy pregnancies & deliveries. Still the overwhelming message from the medical community is that obese women automatically have  high risk pregnancies.

We must also look at the origins of the BMI scale. It was developed in the 19th century by a Belgian Mathematician. The formula was intended to be used as an easy way to measure populations, not individuals. It was developed for the purposes of statistics not measuring individual health. BMI is not a reliable scientific measure. It is astounding that it is still in use.

The most worrying part of this protocol is that women are often not even referred to a fertility specialist until they capitulate on the weight loss issue. This means that women who have specific medical problems interfering with conception are forced to delay interventions that could solve their problems. The bottom line is that women who are classified as obese get a raw deal. Underlying prejudices seem to be making an already distressing issue much harder of plus size women. Infertility can make women feel powerless and incompetent. When you are fat, those feelings are increased by the prevailing impression that your weight is to blame.

1 Mayo Clinic
2 Public Health England, Maternity obesity and pregnancy outcomes.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

‘Cos it’s raining….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 1 Comment

I’ve been waiting to do my summer Wishlist for a while. I kept hoping summer would come back.  As it’s now July, i’ve resigned myself to the fact that the sun has left me for good. 

For my Scottish summer picks I’m going for light fabrics that can be easily layered. So, lots of dresses, soft shirts & the occasional piece to fancy things up. I have also slipt in some items that I want for my next Australia trip. Brisbane never lets me down on the heat factor. 


Asos Curve, Club L Lounge.


Club L Lounge, Yours.

Yes, that is a dress with a hood; come to Mama. This season I seem to attracted to neutral & bright tones in equal measures. Fabric wise the concensus is tactile & super soft. 


Forever21, Lindy Bop, Simply Be.


Club L Lounge, Asos Curve, Simply Be. 

I’m loving splits & dip hems. Leggings are of course an essential when it might be really nippy outside. As always I will be playing with retro & contemporay styles. I have been desperately seeking a pretty bralet that can handle my boobs & I’m hoping this is the one. I’m thinking in Brisbane I can rock this on it’s own & here layer under a sheer shirt. 


Monsoon, Forever21, New Look. 


Irregular Choice, Asos Curve, Asos Curve. 

Florals & hippy chick lace spell out summer to me. I really can’t wait to get to Oz to float around with my Muffin in these. 


M&S, Alice & You. 


Simply Be, Forever21. 


Asos Curve, Club L Lounge.


New Look, Asos Curve, Converse.

Yellow converse will add a pop to any outfit. As will the caged bra lingerie. I love the bondage light look, it’s always fun when your underwear can double as outerwear!

There you have it. My most desired items for this summer. Now it’s time to get buying. Look out for which pieces make it into my body. 

Oh & I have a new pink lipstick & a pretty rose gold nose ring. Aren’t I a lucky girl?

We’re going to need a bigger boat…..

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 2 Comments

I may not be American, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to rock July 4th weekend. Obviously the best place to be is Amity island; or at least Troon’s version of it. 

On Saturday night I went to my first ever drive in movie. As it was located right by the sea, Jaws was the clear film choice. Before the movie we snapped some pics in the mini Amity that ItIsOn had created. Then my night was made by taking a ride on an old fashion Ferris wheel. I love Ferris wheels. This one was extra special because of the amazing sea view. I’ll be honest I was as excited as a little kid. 


The movie itself was great. I jumped & screamed as much as the first time I saw it. Scariest moment was definitely when my sis accidentally hit my window button & I nearly pee’d my pants. I honestly thought a shark was coming in the window!  Hanging at the drive in was a great Saturday night. 

As is my want I had a little fun with my Jaws themed outfit. I totally love this Quint’s shark fishing t-shirt & went a little sharky on my nails too. 

T-Shirt – Gift

Skirt – Forever21

Duster – New Look

‘Cos every inch of you is perfect….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 6 Comments

On my way to Dublin last week something happened that not so long ago would have been a massive issue for me. The fact that it didn’t really phase me proved to me how far I’ve come. 

The incident was an airplane seat belt that didn’t fit. This is something that I actually used to fear. A while back every time I boarded a plane I braced myself for the humiliation of being too fat to fit. It turned out to be no big deal. I had a brief moment of panic, my thoughts raced through all the seat belts that had fitted & how big I was then. Then it dawned on me that I didn’t care. It didn’t matter if I was bigger or this particular seat belt was smaller. It just didn’t fit & there was an easy rememdy for that. I asked for an extender & stopped thinking about. 

Until yesterday when it dawned on me what that meant. I wasn’t embarassed to ask for the extender meaning I wasn’t ashamed to acknowledge my fat body. That is incredible. Being a part of the body positivity community has led me to a place where I can genuinely appreciate my body. Once I realised that I started thinking about all the little things that marked real progress. 

It recently occurred to me that I had gained some weight on my bum. The marvellous part was I liked it. I’ve found myself dressing to show off my bigger arse &  I am so chuffed about that. 


Then on Saturday as I was dressing I automatically tucked my top into my skirt. Not a very momentous act except that I spent years of my life ensuring that my top always covered my stomach. I was that person tugging at my clothes to ensure I was hiding flabby bits. Now I just wear what I feel nice in & here’s the kicker, I look better tucked in or in clingy vests. 


Along the same lines whilst out with my sister I asked her to take blog photos. I am usually a pain the arse about pictures. Never happy with who I look, probably because I wasn’t happy with my body. In the past I have ducked out of pictures at big events & special moments, which  I’ve come to regret. So, in recent times I have made a conscious effort to push through my discomfort & mark significant times. I was however still dissatisfied with my appearance in the photographs. This weekend was different. My sister snapped pics of me in various poses & I loved them all. Break through!

The last and probably most obvious symbol of acceptance of myself is how comfortable I am naked. I run about my house in the buff all the time. I look at myself in a full length mirror whilst I dry my hair and I do not feel critical. I have no desire to hide. I notice the parts of my body that look amazing rather than hating my stomach or chubby arms. This carries through to being naked with others. I no longer feel worried about comparisons when changing with female friends. In the same vein I confidently show my body to anyone I get jiggy with. 

This may strike a lot of people as unremarkable, but it’s a life changing shift. Immersing myself in the body positive has helped me alter how I think & feel about my body. I’ve gone from yo yo dieting, disordered eating & choosing clothes to specfically hide ‘problem’ areas to being a woman who no longer believes there are any bad body parts. I like me. I like my curves, my wobbly bits & everything else. Body positivity works. Women supporting & encouraging each other moves mountains. So, I owe a big thank you to all of you who read, comment & create fat friendly content. High five, ladies, we’re changing the world. 

Dirty Old Town….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 2 Comments

This week I treated myself to a little Irish adventure. Accompanied by Mum and sister I paid Dublin a flying visit. So, what did 3 Scottish ‘girls’ get up to on the emerald isle? Give me a minute and i’ll tell you all about it.

First stop was of course the GPO on O’Connell St. The building itself is impressive, it’s history even more so. The beautiful structure that housed the birth of modern Ireland still bears the bullet holes. I failed completely to get any decent pictures of the landmark due the sheer volume of people attempting to do the very same thing. In lieu of that I offer you a glimpse of the attractive clock the GPO is adorned with.

IMG_3867

A few feet from the historic landmark stands the Monument of Light (An Tur Solais). The stainless steel sculpture is 398ft high & believe me, it’s an arresting sight. If you stand directly below it up look up, which is exactly what I did, it appears to go on forever. I’m a fan of the juxtaposition of traditional architecture & striking modern art. I highly recommend admiring Dublin’s Spire from the cover of the GPO’s pillared frontage. 

Next we cruised through Georgian Dublin on our way to Trinity College. I have long admired the library at trinity. The prospect of floor to ceiling tomes tickled my book loving fancy. The Longroom is that rare gem that exceeds expectations. I was in awe from my first step into the room. The steep spiral staircases, dark shiny wood, Latin & that unmistakeable book smell were intoxicating. I had found my spiritual home. If it weren’t for all the annoying tourists I would have been in heaven.

Dublin is packed with grand buildings, cool fountains & pretty things that catch your eye. 



The Irish charm flows across the Liffey with an array of bridges. Be they an 80million state of the art construct or the iconic ha’penny bridge. My personal favourite was adorned with horse mermaids. Yes, I said horse mermaids. 

Mum really wanted to visit St Patrick’s cathedral & we of course obliged her. I’ve never caught religion so allowed my Lauren to join her on the tour whilst I admired the floor in the gift shop.


From St Patrick’s we strolled past the Christ Church & headed to perhaps Dublin’s most famous spot, Temple Bar. Temple Bar is exactly as you would expect it to be; vibrant & cool. The streets are packed with street art, funky eateries & of course lots of pubs. 

Mum was lured into THE Temple Bar by the strains of live music. Dublin pubs are much like its people; friendly & boisterous. The Temple Bar was no different. The place was packed & the music (Wild Rover & other familiar tunes) was loud. It also afforded me the rare opportunity of taking a pub selfie with my tee total mum. 




Dublin was a joy. It was just what I needed to perk me up. Watch out Ireland, I’ll be back. 

Day after day…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 5 Comments

If, like me you read a lot of blogs, you might wonder from time to time what bloggers look like in their down time. I follow lots of woman who look utterly amazing in their blog shoots. Whilst I’m usually a more low key chick, I thought I’d give you a wee glimpse at a day to day me.

My eyes are closed in about 80% of pictures taken of me. I have to pose for a startling amount before I actually look alive and awake.



Who you gonna call? probably not me as i’m creeped out by the supernatural.

This is my ‘it’s too hot for my ginger self and I may well melt entirely’ look.


German beer wench/pretzel lover.

Bronan often appears not because he takes an interest in what I wear, but because that’s his favourite snoozing spot.

Waterfall cardi proving it’s versatility as part of super comfy outfits.

Woman of the Week…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 3 Comments

Picking a woman of the week has never been simpler. In the turmoil of the EU Referendum results only one politician has come out prepared. Nicola Sturgeon is an impressive politician. In a sea of vague non answers, she has a definitive plan. 

  
 Watching the First Minister speak on the steps of Bute House really made me proud to have voted SNP. Not only did she calmly lay out the steps her government would take to maintain European business links & investment in Scotland, but she unequivocally declared immigrants welcome. Her language made it clear that there is no room in Scotland for racism or Xenophobia. 

‘Indeed, I want to take the opportunity this morning to speak directly to citizens of other EU countries living here in Scotland – you remain welcome here, Scotland is your home and your contribution is valued.’
The leaders of the leave campaign are either silent or back tracking on promises. The government has no strategy for negotiating our exit from the EU & both the Tories & Labour seem determined to destroy their parties from within. There is justifiably an air of spreading panic. Nicola Sturgeon has been my sole ray of hope. Her clear & authoritative addresses have reassured me that Scotland, at least, has solid leadership. 

  
I am proud to be governed by such a progressive & passionate woman. I am delighted to belong to a country that has rejected fear & prejudice. I live in hope that Ms Sturgeon will steer our  celtic ship to independence. 

Tell me lies….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 3 Comments

The older I become the more I realise that the world lies to me. I keep coming up against perceived wisdoms that just aren’t true. In particular I feel some life events are so surrounded in supposed gravitas that we’re all set up for a fall. So many situations that I was led to believe were scary, amazing or life changing were in fact no great revelation to me. So, here’s a my top five non milestones.

 

My First Time

Losing my virginity was no big deal. It wasn’t planned, I was just getting it on with a teenage boyfriend and it happened. I can’t even really remember the details. We progressed past our usual stopping point and I realised I didn’t want him to cease. So, we continued and had sex. It wasn’t fantastic and it wasn’t awful either. I didn’t feel any great pain; I didn’t really feel much beyond a sharpness when he first penetrated me. I didn’t bleed other than slight spotting in my knickers the next day. Afterwards we didn’t have a big discussion, there were no I love yous or promises. I think we went to sleep. It was nice. We had a cuddle and kiss in the morning then I left with my best friend to find food to cure our hangovers. I honestly didn’t feel changed in anyway. It seemed to me just a natural progression. I hear other women talking about regretting who they first slept with, wishing they’d waited for someone really special or even they person they married. I’ve never felt that way. The guy I shared my first time with certainly wasn’t a great love, he turned out to be a bit of a pig, but it’s never given me a moments pause. I was a teenager, even then it never occurred to me that he would be The One. I think that’s how it should be. Sex doesn’t define a person. It’s entirely healthy to experiment, make mistakes & learn from them. For girls especially we need to remove the idea that losing your virginity is somehow losing worth. We also need to ditch expectation that your first time should be an amazing, cherished moment. It hardly ever is and that’s ok.

 

Graduation

Graduation was another milestone that didn’t rock my world. Sure I was proud of myself for attaining a good degree. I had to wade through some adversity during my university years and I was glad I had made it to solid ground. Other than that, it was unspectacular. I didn’t even attend my graduation ceremony. The thought of the gown and marching on stage when my name was called made me feel nauseous. So, I didn’t bother. Neither did I have a fancy dinner or party. At the end of all our exams my friends and I had a mighty piss up, but come graduation time we were all onto the next stage. We were trying to find jobs we actually wanted whilst working jobs we needed to pay the rent. In short I was getting stuck into being an adult. Graduation already felt like old news.

  

First Period

Getting my period was another supposed life changer that left no discernible mark. I can remember my friends getting theirs before me and feeling a tad left behind. The actual details of my first period have left no imprint. I have a vague memory of perhaps calling my mum into the bathroom, but that may just be the influence of countless teen movies. My mum had gone over what to expect long before the event, so there were no shocks. My early periods were unremarkable. I didn’t suffer from cramps or mood swings. I merely found the whole thing a messy nuisance. I didn’t feel like a woman, I felt inconvenienced. 

  

Moving Out

For me, leaving home was also accomplished without a fuss. I had always had a good relationship with my parents, but I craved independence. So, when I fell head over feels with an inappropriate guy, I leaped at the chance to move in with him. I was young, yes, but I wasn’t scared. My mum thought it an ill fated idea and told me so. I ignored her and she knew me well enough to know she had to let me make my own mistakes. There were no arguments or tearful goodbyes. I didn’t have a lot of belongings, so the actual moving was a simple task. I had already been spending most of my time at the boyfriend’s flat, so there weren’t any ugly surprises. I had to learn to be a little smarter with my money and the bf obviously turned out to be a big error in judgement. That said, I have no regrets. I wanted to spread my wings and I did. I loved the autonomy of having my own place, even more so once I freed myself of the stupid first love. I never looked back. I have lived independently -mostly on my own- since & I wouldn’t change a thing.

The Big 3-0

Now for the one I was actually scared of, but turned out just fine. The big 3-0. In last couple of years of my twenties I had begun to slightly dread turning 30. It wasn’t the aging, but realising I was nowhere near where I thought I would be at 30. I had for some reason believed I would be settled, own my home & be well on the way to motherhood. Turns out that’s not what life had in store for me. So, I made the usual jokes about mourning my youth and felt uneasy. The funny thing is when 30 became a reality, I was completely fine. It dawned on me that my, childless, less than settled state was not actually a problem. I hadn’t met anyone I could be happy with, so singledom was clearly a better option. Living alone suited me, in fact I wasn’t sure I really wanted anyone else invading my space. As for children, yes, I wanted them, but I knew It wasn’t my time. On top of that I felt pretty good. I didn’t feel old & I still looked rather nice. My 30th birthday ended up being a lot of fun. My family and friends organised various lovely events. I was whisked away for a spa weekend and glammed up for a drunken nights out. Yet, again I had been deceived. 30 wasn’t scary, it was a blast.

  
So, what’s my point? Relax. Hardly anything ends up feeling the way we’re told it will & that’s just fine. 

If you enjoy my writing you can support me here or on Patreon.

Daddy Cool….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 1 Comment

It’s Father’s Day & what better way to celebrate my lovely Dad than to take a trip down memory lane. 

My dad worked shifts when I was a kid. He’d do a twelve hour night shift & arrive home just as we (I have three siblings) were getting up for school. Instead of retiring directly to his bed he would make us breakfast. Cereal with bananas hidden in it. Mountains of toast or boiled eggs made three different ways to suit out picky tastes. The really special thing about it was he always did it with pleasure. He didn’t rush us or shirk our requests. He kept making that toast until we were satisfied & he made sure every banana slice was hidden in those rice crispies. Making your kids breakfast is a simple everyday  occurance, but when I look back at my childhood these small acts of love really matter. 

  

My sister & I sometimes call our father Daddy Cool. I think it started on a holiday in Mallorca & it stuck. It sums up so many aspects of him. From his little air guitar dance when he hears a tune he likes (which are often by edgy new bands) to his random fancies for designer clothing. The now famous ‘ porno’ moustache he sported my entire childhood also played into the nickname. Wether he’s sporting some Armani or hitting some cool new restuarant he is totally our Daddy Cool. 

  

My childhood is bursting with good memories of Dad. He used to pick us up from primary school & let us walk home through the park. While we galloped along he would be cheerfully carrying all our super girly school bags & paraphanelia. He frequently took us walks in pollok country park, allowing us to carry on & explore. He introduced me to The Burrel Collection  & highland cattle, both life long loves. Dad always had time for us to check out the Rangers station, or the ancient tree or a million other things. 

  

In Glasgow there’s an old tradition of people singing at parties. Right into my teenage years I remember family & friends always calling for dad to sing. I loved it when he did, he usually choose rather meloncholy songs. He sang them so clearly & with real feeling. I fell in love with John Lennon & Janis Joplin after hearing dad’s renditions of Jealous Guy & Bobby McGhee. 

My dad did all the things that storybook father’s are supposed to do. He taught me to ride a bike & to swim. He checked my homework, helped me fill out UCAS forms & grounded me when a boy gave me a nookie. Besides those things he has given me so much more. He gifted me the wonders of 60’s & 70’s music. Whilst my classmates were loving techno I was discovering Joni & Bob. Dad also played a big part in developing my political views. From asking him questions about the night’s news to talking over what I’d been learning in history. I’ve always respected his socialist values. Dad has been unceasingly present throughout my life; encouraging & advising. He has also been tolerant if bemused by some of things I’ve gotten up to. 

  
  

Now that I’m grown & some of my siblings have had children I have the joy of watching my fantastic dad become a wonderful Granda. He will hide under tables, bite balloons & get down on his knees to become a horse who gives rides. He’s exactly the kind of Granda every child wants. 

  
   

  

In conclusion, I love you dad. Thanks for raising me right. 
Happy Father’s Day. 

I love to live so pleasantly….

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 3 Comments

Last Saturday the sun decided to shine on Glasgow. My sister & I took full advantage of the glorious weather by raiding our summer wardrobes & hitting the Burrell.

The Burrell collection is one of my favourite places. It’s the private collection of Sir Wiliam Burrell, a man with eclectic tastes & a generous spirit.  As well as collecting 9000 precious articles he worked to improve housing & conditions for the poor of Glasgow. As a final act of generosity he donated his entire collection to the city of Glasgow for all to enjoy. 

The collection is an intriguing mix of distinct items. From Chinese pottery, to ancient church facades & stunning sculpture. It’s housed in the most amazing building nestled in pollok country park. A innovative piece of architecture that combines steel & glass with sandstone. The building has Tudor rooms built into its fabric, whilst also managing to create light airy spaces. In short it’s fabulous. 

  
  
  
The Burrell holds a special charm for me as my Dad took myself & my siblings here frequently as children. I have been bewitched by this place since I was little. I have also harboured a desire to get married there, but with no prospective groom, that remains unlikely. 

Anyway, for my visit to this most chilled of museums I opted for a distinctly loud outfit. I love colour & summer always seems to scream at me for more. Hence, the yellow ra ra skirt.

  
  
  
  
Skirt – H&M

Kimono – Alice & You

Bandeau – Primark

Necklace – Taking Shape

Sandals – Hotter 

All that culture worked up an appetite, so we rounded off the day with a sushi feast.

  
I’ll leave you with my favourite spot at the Burrell, the place I’d make my vows should I decide that I’m the marrying kind. I love how they’ve managed to bring the surrounding woodland in. Standing in this spot you feel steeped in greenery & perfectly still.