We watched the sun coming up easy…

Last week I embarked on a wee mini break with the toy boy. I didn’t realise quite how much I needed some R&R until we checked into our lovely hotel. Although not an entirely restful trip, it was pretty perfect.


Lodge on Loch Lomond is a 4 star hotel right on the banks of the Loch in the beautiful village of Luss. The combination of rustic Scottish charm & luxury touches are bliss. The small spa at the hotel & huge shareable baths really took our stay  up a notch. However, the jewel in the crown is the view. Waking up to the stunning Loch & surrounding landscape is a dream. The calm is an enormous bonus, the only sounds we could hear from our room were the water lapping against the shore & the ducks quacking.


I’ve been visiting Luss since I was a tiny child. It is the setting of so many cherished memories; it’s basically my happy place. It was lovely to share it with the toyboy even if we did spend a lot of time in the graveyard.

When we weren’t creeping around viking graves we took a tour of the Loch. Sweeney’s Cruises do fabulous tour of the islands between balloch & luss. The toy boy really wanted to catch a glimpse of the infamous Scottish wallabies, but we had no such luck. 


The rest of our break was cosy dinners, midnight walks on the beach & soaking up that amazing view. It was all the romance & precisely what I needed.

Fringe benefits…

Last weekend I was in Edinburgh for the closing days of the festival. I had such a good time, but as is the spoonie way, it took me days to recover. I also had some exciting going ons keeping me busy this week, so it’s taken me a while to put a post together. Obviously the fringe is over, but you can catch my recommendations performing around the country all year.

I have been a Neil Holborn fan for a while, but this was my first opportunity to see him perform. He did not disappoint. His poetry is stunning; words have so much power when manipulated correctly. Much of his work packs a punch, but he can apply a light comedic touch too. Neil has been receiving some well deserved acclaim recently & I hope his star continues to ascend. 

The next two shows were the toyboy’s choices. I’m going to give him credit for content, but a big fat zero for the venues being so far apart. Lost Voice Guy tackles inspiration porn, tory welfare cuts & his own experience of disability all whilst being highly amusing. Chris Coltrane continued the political stand up with his Make Love and Smash Facism show. If like me, you’re a left wing, bleeding heart liberal who likes a lot of swearing, this is the show for you. If like me you also have a very dodgy knee & often faint in hot rooms, The Banshee may not be the venue for you. Edinburgh is possibly the least accessible city in existence, so when I say I had a good time, you know the shows were good. 


After drinks & dinner & more drinks we hit a late night comedy show at The Mash House (another contender for hottest spot outside hell). Two girls one cup of comedy was a show that guaranteed at least two female stand ups every night. We caught the very last show which, to my delight, was an all women line up. The stand out for me was definitely Samantha Baines. Her compèreing combined quality puns, hilarious audience interaction & a tiny bit of man mocking. Turns out I’ve been under a rock & Baines is already rather well known & loved. I am glad to have joined the party, even if I am very late. 

We saw some other bits & pieces and visited a few non fringe related spots, but these are my picks. I recommend you rush to them should they visit your vicinity. 

The end of festival fireworks were really beautiful too. 


*Photo credit, top right – Stephen Black.

Everybody wants to be a cat…

I had a lunch date with my Mum & sis on Saturday, which seemed liked a good opportunity for an over due outfit post. It turned out to be a day of surprises, but very nice ones.

Anyway, back to the fashion. I combined my love of cats with my fondness  for swing skirts & donned this kitch beauty. 



Skirt – Lindy Bop

Vest – Forever21

Cardi – John Lewis 

Necklace – Gift

It wouldn’t be a ly outfit without an injection of colour, a box my Pom poms perfectly ticked. Oh & my eye make up helped too.



The food was yum, the news was good & my mum even treated me to a colourful new skirt. Saturday win.

Come on baby light my fire…

A few months ago I found a cool remote controlled light bulb. It changes colour  & has a gazillion settings to suit my every whim. It has one small problem, it doesn’t really light the whole room. Which, is actually quite a big problem when shedding light is your only job. Enter Dandelion Interiors & my excellent new lamp.*


My interior style is a bit of a pick n’ mix. I love scouring antique shops & house clearances for beautiful old pieces of furniture. I also love a bit of mid century retro & any number of quirky bits found in second hand shops.  My living room is a total mish mash, hence I could not find the right lamp. That was until I came across Dandelion. 

This gorgeous piece combines my old & newish tastes whilst still having a very simple design. I love the huge bulb & bell jar cover. It’s so much cooler than everything else I considered. And, hey, it looks perfect on my slightly battered table with my array of random bits. 

* this item was gifted, but opinions remain my own. 

No compassion…

I’m 36yrs old, chronically ill and a size 22, I am no stranger to a bit medical fat shaming. Sadly, I have had to develop a thick skin when it comes to interacting with the medical profession. Drs & nurses will say things to me that no one else would dare to. I have had to learn to advocate for myself when necessary & brush off a whole bunch of bullshit along the way. To be honest I thought I was fairly untouchable. I am entirely comfortable with my size & though often tiring to hear the same fat phobic lectures, it doesn’t hurt me. Infuriate, yes, but I never felt unable to deal with it. Until recently. 

Earlier this year I had a miscarriage. It was not my first loss. My previous experiences of pregnancy & miscarriage were hugely traumatic and in fact played a major part in my mental health struggles. Losing another baby was horrendous. I had some complications and ended up having to spend a little time in hospital. The one small blessing was the support system I have in place and the kindness I was treated with whilst inpatient. Once home & physically recovered I visited my GP to discuss my general health & how to proceed fertility wise. That she wanted to talk about weight loss was not entirely unexpected. I know standard advice for anyone overweight talking about having a baby is lose weight. I know drs still hold rigidly to the BMI scale & that there is an upper limit for fertility treatment. I know fat women often have their pregnancies labelled high risk. What I wasn’t prepared for was this gp’s insinuation that my weight caused my miscarriage. So, unprepared was I that I convinced myself that I had misunderstood. I pushed it out of my mind & continued trying to process my grief. However, when I returned a week later and she still only wanted to talk about diet plans, what I ate, what I weighed now & how often she could weight me,I was more explicit. I explained my history of borderline eating disorders, of starvation diets & losing vast amounts of weight only to regain it. I told her I did not and would engage with rigid diets or weight loss programmes. Her response was given my multiple miscarriages, I might want to re think that. I enquired If she was saying I miscarried because I was fat & she confirmed that she thought it likely.

 

I walked out feeling a rage that quickly melted away to sadness. I was left wanting to crawl into bed and never get out again. I have struggled with PTSD for many years; my original trauma was an emotionally abusive relationship & my the circumstances surrounding my first miscarriage. It has taken me literally my entire adult life to get control of my shame and guilt. Years of self harm, debilitating depression, panic attacks, flash backs and nightmares all centred around how the loss of my child and subsequent illness was all my fault. One thoughtless dr had thrust back into that damaging thought cycle. On top of that I have fought to reclaim my body as acceptable. I have had to work to enjoy my life in this fat scarred body. My history is well documented in my medical records and I have personally discussed it with the dr. That truth is she wants me to be thin more than she wants to me be happy & healthy. Her complete disregard for my mental health was cruel. That she hadn’t even bothered to investigate my history before speaking is unacceptable. A cursory glance at my notes would have revealed that I was not over weight at the time of my other pregnancy losses. She would also have seen that I am currently taking a medication for PCOS that causes weight loss. The drug is harsh on my already inflamed digestive system meaning that I throw up daily. In addition one of it’s major side effects is appetite reduction. Hence, I have been slowly shedding pounds since I commenced this treatment. I also have diagnosed gynaecological issues, which are much more likely to play a part in my inability to carry to term. The conversation she forced upon me was not only insensitive, but entirely irrelevant. That said, it is never ok to blame a vulnerable women for the loss of her child.

I have chosen not to see that GP again. I attend a fairly large practise and as a freelancer have the freedom to wait for appointments with another dr. I have yet to confront the issue as it still feels so raw. However I feel a strange sense of duty; I feel I must tackle this to prevent it happening to someone else. I recognise that there were times in my past when this dr’s assertions would have entirely destroyed me. I hate that the responsibility to educate & challenge falls to people like me. I cannot understand why a profession who swear to ‘do no harm’ are so married to fat phobia. Why is care and compassion is so often disregarded purely because a patient is fat?


 

 

My week in pictures…

It’s Saturday night & I’m watching Die Hard 2 in my jammies. I say this not as a complaint. It is pretty much the perfect end to a great week. I’m definitely on the sore side, but at least I earned the aches having fun. And, so, I give you my week in pictures.

The toy boy went to a festival last weekend, so I did a little shopping & eating with my darling sister. Followed by drinks with friends & experiments with new lippy shades. The week proper began with some catching up with my man. A home cooked meal, brand new baby doll nightie & a lot of carry on. 


A hump day movie night was disappointing for me, but a hit with the toy boy. Surely I’m not alone on thinking there are too many damn Spider-Man movies? Calderglen Country Park on a sunny day made up for the dud film. 

Amongst scans, bloods tests & pitching to editors I found time to treat myself to some beauty bits & pieces. Namely more nail products. My manicures continue to be fancy af. There has also been vegan delights galore & lots of feline antics.

I capped the week with science frolics. The adult only Science lates at Glasgow Science Centre are more enjoyable than I’d imagined. All the fun of the interactive Science malls, planterium & live shoes with added cocktails. Trust me those optical illusions get even more freaky after a few tipples. 


Of course it wouldn’t be a week in pictures without some random interspersed shots of things that grabbed my attention. Oh & project post it continues to spread some wisdom. 

Fathers be good to your daughters…

Last Sunday was Father’s Day, so my sis & I treated dad to a bit of lunch. We also bestowed upon him soppy cards & our delightful chatter. As the sun still had it’s hat on, we also snapped some outfit photos. 


I had opted for a wee bit of gold brocade dressed down with a vest & some pins. 

Skirt – Glad Rags

Bandeau Vest – Primark

Cardigan – New Look
The cardi wasn’t really required; a lighter floatier cover up would have been more suitable. It’s hard to choose outfits when the weather might change at any minute. Glasgow fashionistas have it hard! On the plus side, finding a bit of greenery for a an impromptu photo shoot is never a problem. 


These songs of freedom…

Wow, it’s hot. This little heatwave we’ve been having is just what I needed. Sunshine puts a little spring in everyone’s step & it’s certainly lifted my mood. Part of the fun of summer is shedding some clothes & indulging in some flirty fashion. In years gone by I’ve missed this pleasure due to ALL the things I felt I had to hide. So, once again I want to celebrate the beautiful freedom the body positive community has brought to my life.


For so many years I believed that my body was ugly. I had completely internalised the fat phobia that society is drenched in. I felt ashamed of my scars & my flab & my uber pale skin & often unshaven parts. I’ve always had a healthy disregard for other people’s judgements, but aspects of my physicality were weak spots. I did what many women do; hid the shameful bits. I protected myself with loose fitting clothing, long sleeves & maxi hemlines. Additionally I built a wall of false, self depreciating confidence. I was always the first person to make a fat joke at my expense because it hurt so much less if I got in there first. 


I often doubted why romantic partners would want me. I felt huge & unattractive when socialising with slimmer friends. Shopping was a battleground of anxieties. So many special occasions were ruined because I never felt comfortable or even worthy. I missed events because I couldn’t find anything cool to wear that covered all the things I was scared to show. Countless opportunities to capture significant moments were lost because I hated how fat I looked in photographs. Most of all, I felt trapped.  I was caged by the standards society told me I had meet. 


Then came bopo. This idea that I was enough swept into my life & blew away a lifetime of bullshit. Immersing myself in a community who told me I was enough changed me. Actually seeing other fat bodies portrayed in a positive light was magnificent. I realised that when I looked at these women wearing amazing clothes, doing exciting things & generally rocking their lives, I saw beauty. 

From there is has been a gradual acceptance of myself. A growing appreciation of how my body looks. These last few days of scorching heat have made me realise that I might have reached peak self love. Not once have I worried about flashing my flesh. In fact, I have loved selecting outfits & enjoyed wearing them even more. Stares don’t phase me because I feel fantastic. I am sexy & cool & deserving of respect. Anyone who feels differently can kiss my fat arse. 


I find myself truly taking pleasure in my body. Be it snapping pics because my butt looks cute, being unabashedly naked with my boyfriend or feeling the fresh breeze on my scarred arms; I feel free. And it is joyous. 

Sunshine reggae…

After a tough week I was ready to let loose a little today. Happily, the sun shon & I had fun plans. All I needed was a killer outfit to rock Saturday. 

The answer was another of my sheer dresses. I have a surprising number of see through garments & I rather love wearing them. This full length lace number is soft & lovely to wear whilst also being pretty damn sexy. Teamed with a pale nude slip it gives the illusion of nudity. I was amused by all the lookiloos today as even hardest stare won’t actually reveal anything shocking. 


Dress – Forever21

Slip – Simply Be

Cardi – John Lewis 

I also went bold with my make up. I never go this heavy on my eyes, but I’m loving the results. 

We spent the afternoon enjoying some Scottish reggae in the form of Umbongo Nambarrie & sipping some boozy refreshments. The music suited the balmy weather. Plus you can’t really go wrong with a band who does a reggae version of a Star Wars tune. We finished the night with Sushi & headed home to snuggle on the sofa. 

Anti-woman of the week…

This week is a little different as instead of celebrating an amazing woman I’ll be having a pop at a contemptible one. The dubious honour of being my first anti woman of the week goes to Theresa May.

As a participating member & now leader of a Conservative government who have consistently gone after the most defenceless members of our society, she has earned our scorn. May has been complicit in cuts that have resulted in the deaths of sick & disabled people. Some due to the overwhelming stress of the fitness to work assessments have exacerbated their conditions, some through being forced to undertake work they are not physically capable of sustaining & others who have taken their lives because their disability benefits have been withdrawn. Thousands of disabled have found themselves facing homelessness & destitution due to assessments designed to get people off benefits regardless of their needs. Those with mental health problems have found the entire process geared to exclude them. A government who will ruthlessly attack the weakest members of society is despicable. Theresa May is an integral part of that. 

The Tories have presided over a series of cruel cuts to the NHS & social care. Increasingly large chunks of our health service have been sold off. Hospital closures, wage freezes & shrinking budgets leave us with a decimated health care system. Try to book an appointment with your gp or get seen at a&e this century and you you will know the struggle is real. Don’t be fooled by the nasty party’s attempts to shift the blame. The NHS is not failing because of immigrants. It is in its knees as a direct result of May & her cronies’ policies.

This post could go easily go on for pages. This a woman who loves selling arms to Saudia Arabia, who is happy to steal pensions from those who have worked all their lives for them, she proposes income tax & national insurance rises for working people whilst pledging 3bn in tax breaks for the rich. May has voted in favour of removing benefits for young adults & a whole raft of anti lgbtq+ proposals. Her party is responsible for Brexit & her ‘little England’ rhetoric is likely to destroy any chance of positive negotiations. Listen, this bitch held Trump’s hand; she can not be trusted.

I know there will be some people dying to question my feminist credentials for this, but let’s be clear, the PM is not a feminist. She’s the leader of a party who is cool with humiliating & endangering rape survivors. They promised to direct the taxes from sanitary products to women’s charities. They ended up funding an anti abortion group. Last year Phillip Davies (Tory MP), attempted to derail legislation designed to target violence against women. Only this week Mrs May gave her support to Tory Mp hopeful, Peter Cuthbertson a man who says that ‘promiscuous’ women are likely to make false rape allegations. Theresa May is no friend to women & it is incumbent upon those who are to hold her to account. 

So, congratulations, Theresa. You are my official anti woman of the Week (month, year). Both you & your party are toxic. 


Please, please, please do not give this anti woman (or her party) your vote. This election is not about finding the perfect candidate. This is survival. If you value a compassionate & fair society, DO NOT VOTE CONSERVATIVE. Get tactical, put that X wherever it will defeat the Tory candidate.