They’re altogether ooky…

I love this time of year for many reasons. The crisp chilly days, the copper leaves & all those cute cosy knits. Mostly though, Halloween. I am a fan of all things spooky and I love the opportunity to get a little crazy with my nails. Creepy nail art is my absolute favourite.

I started the month with some bloody meat cleavers because what’s Halloween without a bit of horror.

Bloody meat cleaver nail art

I moved onto a moonlit spooky scene.

Moonlit spooky scene nail art

Then I went a bit a cartoony with some blood drippy eyeballs. I particularly enjoyed those bright orange stripes.

Bloody eye ball nail art

Which leads to my current adornment. These took ages because I kept screwing up, but my stormy bats were definitely worth all the faffing around.

Spiral & bat nail art

Blue skinned beast…

I’ve never been a shrinking violet. If I feel strongly about something, you’ll know it. I’m not scared of being noticed or to look different. All of which makes Fuck the Tories one my favourite brands.

Jewellery box with glittery fuck the tories business card

If you haven’t checked them out yet, hop to it. Not only do they make fabulous radical accessories, they also support great causes. It feels like we are living in some kind of alternate political reality at the moment. I rush from disbelief, to rage, to despair on a daily basis. The ascendence of Boris to PM has only made matters worse. So, the new range of Fuck Boris necklaces are a very glittery outlet for my frustrations.

Red glittery fuck Boris necklace in jewellery box

I know wearing a necklace won’t change anything by itself. It does make me feel a little better to express my disgust and connect with like minded people. I will continue to do everything else in my power to affect change. I hope you will too. Protest, contact your MP, sign the petitions, vote! In the mean time you can enjoy the satisfaction of supporting an amazing small business & voicing your opinionated loud and clear.

It’s a me, myself kinda attitude…

Self care is a phrase that makes me boak. It has so many bullshit connotations that I just can’t be doing with. I’m not interested in the healing powers of green tea, crystals or turmeric. A cup of tea and a chat won’t fix my crazy head. Neither will congratulating myself for brushing my teeth. If any of that works for, knock yourself out, I’m genuinely happy for you. It all just leaves me with a bad taste (literally in some cases) in my mouth. However, I do believe that you have look after yourself. It’s important to pay attention to the little things that make a difference to your day/life. And every now and again you have to go BIG.

Hotel do not disturb sign

That’s exactly what I did last week. I’ve been walking the tightrope of mental & physical health flares. I’m tired, I’m sore, I’m sad and with the arrival of my 39th birthday I’m old too. I was in need of a treat. So, I gave myself a 5 star escape.

I booked a couple of nights at a boutique hotel in my city. Checked into my beautiful room and checked out of reality for a few days. I told no one. I drank champagne cocktails in the epic roll top bath. Ordered room service and watched old movies in the gigantic bed.

Hotel room with roll top bath Grand staircase and stained glass window, dining room with chandelier and champagne cocktail

It did me good to dip out of my real life. It hasn’t solved any of my problems, but man alive was it good to have some respite. It also felt really amazing to be able to do a lovely thing for myself. It’s great to be treated by others, but there is a deep satisfaction in giving yourself something you need.

ly looking in mirror in white hotel robe, ly soaking in roll top bath

My advice would be less ‘self care’ and more taking care of yourself.

It’s later than you think…

I think it’s universally acknowledged that getting older is a wee bit scary. As one approaches those big milestone ages it is hard not to ponder the big questions. 39 is frightening mainly because of its proximity to 40 & all that entails.

I remember being worried in the run up to the big 30 too. Mainly because I felt like I wasn’t where I had imagined I would be at that stage of my life. That little measure of fear probably helped in the long run. It helped me make some needed changes. My thirties have been far happier than the preceding years. I believe what made that possible was time. I had time to think and plan and manoeuvre.

Ultimately, though, I’m approaching 40 still missing the crucial piece of my puzzle. However, this time I am very nearly out of time. My options are ever shrinking. That is frightening on a whole other level.

I sometimes feel like the proverbial guilty feminist when I have this conversation. Fear of ageing is often assumed to be about vanity. It’s thought silly to worry about grey hairs or crows feet. It’s assumed the desire to stay young is about adherence to sexist beauty standards. Or if it runs deeper the biological clock is referenced in demeaning tones. Ageing childless and/or single women are often perceived as desperate or pathetic. I suspect much of this is internalised, but I had to get these messages somewhere!

Balloon with sorry about my internalised misogyny

Where am I going with this? I suppose I just want to say it is ok. Things become a cliche for a reason. Ageing is scary. Whether that is because you are worried about physical changes, not achieving goals, your own mortality or all of the above. It’s ok. Most folk struggle a little with change. It’s perfectly understandable to feel uncomfortable with the alterations you see in the mirror. It’s fine to be concerned about the irrevocable biological changes that age brings. Knowing that some opportunities have passed you by can be hard to accept. The unstoppable nature of the passage of time is alarming.

In many ways age is just a number. Nevertheless, ageing does have concrete ramifications. It isn’t anti feminist to accept or care about them. A big part of the significance of our appearances is routed in living in a patriarchal society. It isn’t merely a shallow obsession with attractiveness; women’s ageing is not viewed sympathetically. There are real life implications beyond aesthetics. Career prospects, financial considerations, medical and fertility issues are a big deal. Even if you just really lovely your hair and don’t want it to go grey, you’re allowed to have a wobble about that.

ly looking in mirror sign towel around body and hair

In the end the thing that makes it so worrisome is also what helps me deal. You can’t stop time. It is entirely out with our control. Feel whatever you feel. Talk it out. Then carry right on living because it is always later than you think.

Another year older…

Today is my 39th birthday. Man alive, do I feel a lot of things about that. It doesn’t feel like a particularly friendly number. I am imagine I’ll write more on than another time. For now, I’ll share the lovely bits.

Namely, being spoiled by my lovely people, having a good old carry on with some rascals and a very excellent dress. I had an early birthday yesterday with my sister, bff and their babies. It was delightful. I love watching them play together. I hope so much they will always be friends. They were having so much fun that pictures really weren’t on their list of priorities. Contrary to appearances here, they do actually love their Auntie ly.

Ly laughing with two struggling toddlers on her knee

My best girls showered me with super cute pressies (they’re sure to festive in upcoming ootds). It makes me feel very loved to open gifts and find things I absolutely adore. People knowing you well enough to always know what you’d like is very nice. Having amazing female support that you can always rely on is even nicer. I’ve had these two by my side for almost my entire life and I never want to be without them.

Three smiling women

Finally, there is that dress. I saw this ages ago, but couldn’t really justify buying it at the time. I didn’t need another maxi dress. When it popped into the sale my resolve weakened. Turns out I definitely do need this dress. It takes my yellow obsession into the new season and it looks banging. Plus I already had the perfect earrings to top it off.

ly h kerr snakeskin maxi dress

Dress – Pretty Little Thing

Monki snake earrings

Earrings – Monki

The dress is a bit more titty than I originally realised, but the girls are holding up ok. I’m not doing too badly for an old bird.

Snake nail art

If you’re going to have a theme you might as well go all out. So, my nails got snakey too.

You’ve got stuck in a moment…

You know how they say you can’t smell your own perfume, so you have to careful not to wear too much? I feel a bit like that about my body. Specifically, my scars.

I’ve lived with the damage for so long that I cannot judge how severe it is. Mostly, I don’t think about my scars at all. They’re not a consideration in dressing anymore. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed of what they may signify. I usually find any rudeness engendered by my patchwork skin says more about the observer than the observed.

However, every once on a blue moon I have a moment. Often it’s my own doing. I catch sight of my reflection at an unusual angle or change under different lighting and I’m shocked. Horrified maybe. Not so much at my appearance as the fact that I did this to myself.

More rarely it’s as a result of another’s extreme reaction. A gasp or frightened look stirs much more than judgemental comments. When my battle scars scare others it stirs the old guilty feelings.

Sun shining through trees

In either case it is doubt that knocks my confidence. I find it impossible to determine if my body is hideous or merely slightly disfigured. Without a clear grasp of what I have done I feel adrift. It takes me back to my days in the self harm trenches; never knowing how serious a wound was. Unable to grasp onto any equilibrium.

Am I a dramatic fool over nothing or inflicting horror on innocent parties? And which would be worse? The uncertainty shakes me. I feel an imposter. For all my proclamations of body confidence there are times when my self inflicted seams run deep.

I’m stuck in a moment right now. I fight the urge to hide. Steal myself against thoughts of splitting those seams open. It’ll pass. In the meantime I’ll have the long sleeve weather to regain my surety.

Blurry lights through blinds

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She put on her party dress…

A couple of weeks my beautiful little Madison turned 2 years old and of course she had a party. It wasn’t only the Birthday girl who needed the perfect party dress; Auntie ly has to hunt one down too.

I found this polka dot delighted in Monki. I’m taken with this colour combo and I always love a tiered skirt.

ly h Kerr, sister & friend holding their toddlers

Dress – Monki

Vest – Primark

Sandals – Next

The little ones had a ball with cake & balloons & bubbles. I snuck a little feminism into my present (yes, I’m that auntie).

Balloons, birthday cake & children at party

I can’t believe how quickly all my little ones are growing up. I don’t know where all the tiny babies went, but it’s just so lovely to watch them all discover the world.

ly wearing green glasses & purple lipstick

Glasses – Where.Light

Lipstick – Nyx

My dress always gave me an opportunity to break out this epic lippy. I think I pulled off the crazy Aunt look pretty well.

Blue, I love you…

Dear Son,

Today has always been hard, but this year is worse. I always thought I’d give you siblings & they would help remembering you to be less painful. It never occurred to me that I would be reliving your loss over & over again. I hope they’re with you. I wish you were all with me. I’ll always love you.

Love

Mum

Sapling in moonlight

She’s a very kinky girl…

Every now and then I come across a phrase or slogan that perfectly encapsulates an element of my daily experience. Whenever I do I kind of want to wear it emblazoned on my chest. So, this time I did.

Fat women wearing t shirt saying my kink is being called fat by men I reject online

T – Shirt – Custom slogan by Paper Press Ireland.

The reaction to this T- Shirt sums up how common this behaviour is. Several woman enthusiastically complimented it. More men gave me looks. The only man to comment advised me that I was attractive, but I would intimidate men by wearing such a thing. I laughed as I told him I wasn’t looking for man & would never be interested in one who felt intimidated by honesty. I suppose it underlines what I already knew, masculinity is oh so fragile.

In case the meaning is lost, I’ll spell it out. I’m fat. I’m also fucking incredible. I was fat when you sleazed on me. I was fat when I turned you down. I was fat when you tried to insult me & I’m still fat when I mock you. I’m not ashamed. I’m not desperate. I’m not waiting for your approval. Oh & I’m not alone. Fat femmes are not seeking random male approval. We know our worth. We want none of your sub standard attention. In short, don’t poke the magnificent bear.

Ly making silly face

My week in pictures…

I’ve been a bit stuck in the doldrums. Sometimes when my mood takes a dive I can get overwhelmed and struggle to get anything done. To tackle that I decided to make a concentrated effort to take time for myself; focusing on things that release pressure and make me feel good. It has been successful strategy. A treated & rested me has managed to get more on top of things.

I started last week with a wee spa escape. I grabbed my Mum & Sister and embarked upon a relaxing break in a Dundee. Of course we let the Baba crash our girls trip.

We had a lovely time luxuriating in the spa and kicking back in our suite. We checked out the stunning V&A. Indulged in some delicious food and had a tonne of carry on. I’m so glad my family are such loveable maniacs. We always have so much fun together. It was bliss for me to spend so much time with the boy. I love getting to do bedtime, reading him endless stories and hearing him call out my name when he wakes up. Little ones are the best medicine.

Plus size woman posing at v&a

Dress – Monki

Shirt – Boohoo

Tights – Snag Tights

Various v&a Dundee Family snap shotsVarious Dundee

I arrived home midweek and got stuck right into my outstanding ‘to do’ lists. After a few days trundling through housework and editing I was ready for something lighter. Diversion came in the form of the wonderful Strathaven Balloon Festival. I’ve always loved hot air balloons. Unfortunately the rides book out weeks in advance, so I didn’t get a chance to take to the skies. Good times were still had. Someone turned the sun back on for us this weekend and we got a scorcher.

We had a go around the boating pond before a little bouncing.

Baby on bouncy castle

Watched people fall from the sky and got up close with some owls.

Sky diver with open parachute

Did a bit of colouring and then the boy got to try out a mini balloon ride.

Children’s hot air balloon ride

Finally it was time for the star of the show. They were worth the wait. Red hot air balloon in the sky Hot air balloon in riding above trees

I tried to beat the heat with barely there t shirt & the cutest crop top. I still felt like I was a million degrees, but at least I looked pretty cool.

Plus size woman in tent wearing maxi skirt & rainbow crop top

T- Shirt – Pretty Little Thing

Crop top – Wilde Mode *

Skirt – New Look

Sandals – Next

* Brand Ambassador