Cruelty Free Beauty….

I don’t do many beauty reviews. Not because I don’t like them, but because I’m a fairly low maintainance girl & I’m far from an expert. However when I discovered totally cruelty free* cosmetics by Arbonne I really wanted to spread the word. 

So, let’s start spreading. I chose to try their Intelligence Cc Cream first as I was looking for lighter weight coverage for my face. I went for fair as my skin is practically see through. This shade works well for me & can be easily built if you’re looking for fuller coverage.  The cream itself feels very smooth, but is a little thicker than I expected. I think this is simply because I was specifically looking for an everyday ‘no make up’ look. In my case I mixed it with a little vitamin E serum & it was perfect. However, as I previously said it provides deeper coverage just as well.    

  
The cream lives up to it’s multi purpose claims. I use it without a primer with great results. Along with creating an even complexion it also covers blemishes very well, even when used lightly. The cream feels lovely on the skin & creates a fresh, natural look that lasts all day. All in all I’d give it a big thumbs up. I cannot wait to try out more of Arbonne’s products. 

  

You can browse & buy these ethical beauty dreams here.

* botanically based, suitable for vegans & Pets certified animal cruelty free. 

** I was gifted this product, but opinions expressed are all my own. 

You can’t touch this…

It’s a rainy bank holiday Monday & I’ve decided to have a lazy day. I’m just casually scrolling through Facebook when a post gets my attention. I’m not surprised by the post, it’s nothing new. Nonetheless it makes me feel a tad ragey.

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My first thoughts run to the sheer entitlement of this man. He wants to do something & no one else’s feelings on the matter count. These thoughts are swiftly followed by exhaustion at constantly having to explain why this is not ok. His dismissal of rape culture as something made up by ‘angry women’ & his total refusal to accept women’s safety concerns are appalling. The problem of course, is that these attitudes are pervasive. Men routinely behave this way.

I am aware that I am not the first woman to raise these issues, but I really think it’s important that we share our experiences. 1 in 5 women in uk have been sexually assualted at some point in their life. To be honest I’m surprised this figure isn’t much higher. Women and girls are harassed daily. It’s infuriating, frightening, humiliating, stressful & so much more. Still girls are told by teachers that ‘boys will boys’ and schools put the onus on what girls wear rather on male behaviour. We are told cat calling is a compliment and police down play our reports of sexual assualt.

Men, it seems have no concept of the female experience. They will never understand the extent of the harassment we endure unless we speak out. Basically, we need to ram it down their throats.

With that in mind I want to share some of the stand out moments of sexual intimidation that I have experienced.

1/ I was approximately 10yrs old & wearing my favourite outfit. It was one of those heat sensitive t shirts that change colour & a velvet skirt. The t shirt reads hotspot, I thought this was the coolest thing ever. At a family gathering an adult, male family friend slaps my bum & says ‘that’s your hotspot’. I was 10yrs old. The incident confused & frightened me so much that I didn’t tell a soul it had happened.

2/ I’m 11 or twelve and have just started secondary school. The boys in my class routinely try to undo girl’s bras through their blouses. I don’t wear a bra yet & so am mercilessly mocked.

3/ That same year myself & a friend are followed off a bus & right to her house by a complete stranger. He’s a middle aged man & we are terrified.

4/ On my way home from school one day a man approaches me & warns me that there is another man playing with himself ahead. A week or so later the same man does the same thing. On speaking to the police it turns out there have been dozens of complaints.

5/ By 15 my flat as a pancake figure has ceased to be. My breast growth has gone into over drive & my boobs are large. My life long battle begins. Boys at school grab me and make crude comments. Adult bus drivers make disgusting comments despite my wearing a school uniform. For the first time I hear the male theory that big breasts mean I am slut.

6/ At some point in my mid teens I go on holiday with a friend’s family. Throughout the holiday my friend’s mother alludes to the size of my breasts & my refusal to hide them under tent like apparel, means that I am not a nice girl.

7/ When I begin clubbing at around 16, I am confronted with the fact that my body is not my own. Men in clubs consider the female form to be fair game. I am groped, slapped, pinched, rubbed against over & over. When I complain I am verbally abused & told I shouldn’t be wearing revealing clothes if I don’t want this. I’m a bitch, slut, frigid, a tease.

8/ I’m 20 and on my way to meet a friend for drinks. As I walk down a busy street a group of young teenage boys surround me, shout about my breasts, one boy thrusts his hand into my dress & violently grabs my nipple. None of the passers by make any attempt to help me. When I report this incident to the police, the first question I am asked is what was I wearing. No action is ever taken. I am left feeling dirty & angry.

9/ In my mid twenties I faint at a street market. When I come round a man is taking a picture of my cleavage.

10/  I try internet dating & am bombarded with sexual comments. If I ignore these comments I get abusive messages telling me I am rude & stuck up. If I say no thanks, I receive messages telling me what an ugly, fat bitch I am & how dare I reject this prize of a man. Several times I block men only to have them create new accounts so they can continue to abuse me.

11/ At an early post graduation job I must wear a blue shirt provided by my employer. I request the largest size, but it still gapes at the bust. I am summoned to HR to talk about how I am dressed inappropriately.

12/ I am leading a sexual health workshop with teenagers. Their teacher requests my card & then adds ‘you look like you could improve my sexual health’.

13/ By my early 30’s I am thoroughly disgusted with all this abuse. I am collecting my prescription from the chemist when an old man looks me up & down, shouts ‘nice’ & proceeds to squeeze both breasts. I automatically harshly push the man away from me. Later when reporting this to the police I am questioned about how I pushed him, how much force I used & why I hit the man. Again, no action is ever taken.

14/ A man I dated briefly over ten years ago periodically sent pictures of his penis despite me telling him not to. When I blocked him from one way of contacting he found me somewhere else & continued.

These are only a tiny taste of the aggravation I have endured. My experience is by no means unique. So, next time you want to complain about women being on the defensive or not appreciating your advances have a think about why she is reacting that way. Before you laugh at a friend’s unsolicitated comments to a female stranger, consider how much of these ‘compliments’ she must deal with.  Ask the women in your life about their exposure to molestation (verbal or physical). Hopefully a glimpse of the reality of the female experience will alter you view point.

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

Cool for cats…

This week I was inspired by my wee sister, who is a mail genius, to try out leopard print nails. I’ve always loved the look, but doubted my precision prowess. Well, I finally decided to give it a try & it turns out it’s not hard at all. 

  
My first attempt was so successful that at the first sign of chipping I stripped &  did it again. 

  
I am officially hooked on leopard print nails. 

This goes out to all the women…

Lemonade. I know, everyone is talking, writing & I suppose singing about it. I must confess to not having heard (or seen) the complete album. I’ve sampled some highlights and whilst not a member of the beyhive, I’m excited to hear more. I have no issue with Beyonce’s music (her fur wearing is another matter). I applaud the increased political input in her work. Her support of black & feminist issues is on point. Her artistic viewpoint is increasingly progressive & radical. Which is why, some of her fans retrograde behaviour of late has been particularly hard to take. 

  
Oh, I know fans are fanatical these days. Bey is queen & they worship her. That’s all good, but the reaction to Lemonade & hints that Jay Z may have cheated are down right backwards. 

Rachel Roy’s ‘ Good hair, don’t care’ Instagram post ignited smouldering rumours that she was Mr Carter’s indiscretion. The beyhive immediately launched a social media witch hunt. Bee & lemon emoticons appeared en mass on her various pictures & posts. Along with the taunting images came more serious abuse, which inevitably led to her making her accounts private. Today’s tabloids decided that it was in fact Rita Ora would had done the dirty with Beyonce’s spouse. She too was lavished with the same treatment. 

  
Perhaps you think those involved in infidelity deserve what they get. Maybe you feel betraying Bey is worthy of a good hounding, but wait, what about Jay Z? If he did in fact step outside his marriage surely he’s where the hive loyal should turn their scathing tongues? He’s the one who made vows & a child with Yonce. Why does the arse who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants get a pass?

  
The answer, as is so often the case, the patriarchy. Woman are still being conned into feeling that other chicks are the enemy. Our old boy’s club society wants it that way. It’s much better for the status quo if smart, talented women view each other as the competition. Stop letting yourself be suckered by the tired old trope that cheating men can’t help themselves, but cheating women are whores. It’s such a dangerous road to go down. It ultimately leads us to rape apology & the dismissal of female sexual agency. That’s not what we should be teaching our daughters. The bottom line is the Carter’s marital woes are not my business, but women tearing each other down is. 

Cheating is cruel. I’m not loving anyone who participates. But, ladies, come on. Stop beating on your own whilst letting men off easy. We’re better than this.  

Sweet Charity….

One of my favourite things is finding one off or limited pieces. If I can unearth them for pennies, even better.   

It was therefore swell to find this adorable bag in a random wee shop. It stocked the strangest selection of items, but amongst them was this little gem. 

  
I have a feeling it may be the most perfect bag ever made. All those colours, the embroidery & pom poms! I was helpless when faced with those pom poms; I had to take this little one home. In addition to its obvious beauty it has a cross body strap that actually fits over my boobs & despite its diminutive appearance it holds all my essentials. 

  

I have long hankered after a cameo brooch, but my search has proved elusive. That is, until today, when I stumbled upon this perfect specimen. The lavender tones are so unusual & I am completely taken with the art noveauish quality of the girl’s hair. Not bad for 50p. It’s amazing what you can discover if you shuffle through a basket of plastic crap in a charity shop. 

  

And if I needed confirmation that my trawling skills were on point, Bronan gave it. This is the face of a cat who wants my brooch. 

  

It was all yellow…

The lovely people at Hotter Shoes & Taking Shape invited me to an event this week. I was pretty sore on Wednesday & wasn’t sure I would make it, but I am so glad I pushed myself.

Taking Shape is a company I had a little experience with as I checked out their stores when I was in Oz. I hadn’t had a chance to peruse their Glasgow store, so their collection was all new to me. The store is a pleasure to shop; clearly zoned, neat, sleek & lovely big changing rooms. The staff are knowledgeable & refreshingly chirpy. So far, so good.

  
 
Regular readers will be aware that I have a penchant for colour. Taking Shape gets a big tick in the brights box. They also easily check off size, fit & variety. There are enough daring pieces to keep a weirdo like me happy, but also plenty of staples. The arrival of a little sun has me drawn to vivid yellows & sheer fabrics, so this top was perfect. I snapped it up & wore it the very next day. 

  
The accessories are also on point. Their range of bold statement necklaces really pleased me. I will definitely be back to stock up.  

 
  

I have to give big props to the PR team who were a dream. Special mention also goes out to the my fellow bloggers who were charm itself & rocking some amazing looks. 

  
Oh & of course a peek at how I wore my sunny new piece.

  
I really love the cut at the bottom.

 

Top – Taking Shape

Skirt – Forever21
Stay tuned for my Hotter adventures. 

* Items have been gifted, but opinions are my own. 

The time is now…

I’m lying on my bed with the sun streaming in my window having a lazy morning. I’m planning dinner in my head & pondering what colour to paint my nails, when it happens. A vivid flashback, of a day like this, but 16yrs ago. 

  
Like today I am resting on my bed observing the sunny world outside. Unlike today, back then I had a life growing inside me. I can smell the incense I used to burn in the flat & see the steeple of the church at the the end of the street. I feel the warmth on my face, the ache in my back & the love pounding through my veins. 

As fast as it strikes, it wanes. Part of me wants to cling to those sensations, the rest still finds these memories tender. I’ve been having these flashes a lot lately. They’re not new to me; I’ve been living with PTSD for a long time. This wasn’t a bad one, but it still leaves me feeling sadder than I did before. I’ve been thinking about why these bolts into the past have become so frequent of late & I think I know the answer.

For the first time in a very long time I am making baby plans. I have always wanted to be a Mummy. The loss only increased that desire. For years I’ve watched friends & family create beautiful little people. It’s never been the right time for me. Well, I’m 35 now and life never really gets any simpler. There is no right time. There will never be a perfect set of circumstances. So, the time is now. 

  
Or the time for planning is now. I’m getting my self and my life in shape for baba. It’s a little scary, but I don’t have any doubts. My life will never feel complete without children. It’s going to be a long campaign, but Operation Baby is go. 

My week in pictures…

 

It’s been a fairly rough week filled with more Dr’s than I would have liked. There were some amusing moments & cool snaps, hence I am sharing my hospital expoilts.

It all started last Monday with a pain in my lower back. By Tuesday it had spread around my side & all over the right side of my stomach. The pain had intensified to such an extent that I had to see my gp. Dr suspected possible upper uti infection, but wanted to rule out pancreatitis,so off to the hospital I was sent. Not, however, before I had to pee in a tiny bottle & was given two injections in my bum. One was for pain, which had no effect. There other for nausea, which was entirely counter productive as shortly after leaving the surgery I began impressively vomiting. 

I founf myself waiting to be assessed in hospital. For some reason I was surrounded by babies & their parents watching me repeatedly throw up into those horrid little cardboard hats. Once again it’s a round of peeing in various receptacles & being prodded by numerous medical personal. The result being I was admitted with probable kidney infection.

After another two injections in my arse (their is no dignity in being ill) my behind was now feeling a little tender & turning some vibrant colours. My nurse was unable to get any blood despite trying both arms & hands. A Dr was then summoned to attempt to draw blood. Much to my embarrassment the Dr who arrived is already known to me. I had a fling with him many years before. So, I find myself lying in a hospital gown, groaning whilst a very attractive surgeon who has seen me naked pokes me with needles. Only I could end up in the medical care of an old shag.

  
Anyway, blood is finally collected & kidney infection confirmed. I stay in hospital for a further day 1/2 for Iv  anti biotics & pain relief. On Thursday I walk free & consider my ordeal over.

I spent the rest of the week pacing around as kidney pain is worse at rest. I tried my best to rest & even ventured out with my sis at the weekend. We were treated to perfect spring weather. It felt good to be out in the fresh air surrounded by new blooms. 

  

  
As this week began all felt well. I was still a little tender, but otherwise much better. I probably over did it catching up with house work & errands on Monday. Meaning that by dinner time I was exhausted & needed to have a nap. And, that’s the last thing I remember until I came round on the hall floor in dark. My face hurt & I was very confused, but otherwise unharmed. My first instinct was just to go to bed, but after consultation with my sister I realised I had to return to hospital. Que scans, X-rays & a night of observation. Luckily I only have a mild concussion and a bashed up nose. I had no encounters with long lost lovers and I pray I have reached my hospital limit for quite a while. 

  
Oh & my squinty nose is real sexy. 

Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside….

I took a little trip to see my friend & her lovely boy on Friday. She lives in Musselburgh, which is a seaside town outside Edinburgh. I love any excuse to get close to the sea & Lisa (and James) is a fabulous reason to go anywhere.

  
It was chilly & wet when I set off so I employed my new beret to keep my head warm. I don’t wear many hats as I don’t usually look great in them. Thus, I was surprised to discover that berets are totally my thing. 

  
I was also chuffed with the new dress I donned. I’ve had my eye on this for ages and finally snapped it up in the sale a few weeks ago. The cat print is purrfect & the colour matches my eyes. 

  
Dress – Voodoo Vixen

Cardigan – Monsoon

Beret – House of Bruar (gift)

I really love the neckline on this dress. The fit is superb & the large pockets are a dream. 

I can only share the mirror selfie as I had so much fun with my east coast chums that I forget to get any pictures. However, I did remember to snap some photos of our escapades. 

  
(That feline beauty is Bronan’s sister, Mena)