Showing posts with label body issues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body issues. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

It's not that I don't understand, I just don't agree.

(via ffffound)

N's mum offered to make a croquembouche. I appreciate this offer, I love profiteroles, however - this wasn't what we'd had planned to have at our wedding. Certainly not as the cake. I had hoped for pavlova, pineapple upside down cake (one of my favourites), tiramisu and I don't know. Initially, N's sister offered to make cupcakes (she has a cupcake business) but, well, I don't do cupcakes.
Retrospectively it occurs to me that the cupcake offer was for a cupcake wedding cake. I dislike these even more than the whole cupcake craze!

So, I am practicing saying no.

In other news, N and I sewed a bit of bunting on the weekend. I had the erm, fortune of having N's mother help me initially... I've got to try and not be completely ungrateful for every single offer of help that she gives me, because, well, she quite possibly just wants to help. But the insistance that I should do something a particular way (and not the way I had intended) is irritating.

Ergh.

(also via ffffound)


I graduate on Wednesday. I went shopping to find something to wear under my academic gown (it is open at the front). This was much more difficult than I imagined - and the whole experience left me feeling bloated, tubby, and generally unattractive.
Great.

So the excitement of graduating is damped by not only the fact that I'm not actually graduating (I graduate from my 2 degrees and then graduate again once I've completed my honours thesis) but also some pretty funky feelings of low self esteem.

And G & Y lost the camera my parents gave them last november for their birthday.
Awesome.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

like a freight train, hurtling down a hill...

And with no freaking idea how to use the controls.


Am finding this whole dress shopping thing vaguely depressing. I had an idea in my head of what I wanted to wear: black, scoop neck (or something vaguely similar) dress with empire waist, cut to just above the knee, with black opaque tights and:
these peep toes from Zu. It occured to me that I could also throw on a black ruffle bolero similar to

these ones that I've seen on etsy. Indeed, I've even found a how-to for something similar on Cut Out and Keep! So, I'm moderately excited about what to wear, but completely unmotivated about the actual dress shopping aspect. Finding a simple black dress becomes infinately more complicated when short and kind of funny shaped (read: feelin real tubby). Lots  of styles I like, with structured bodices and spaghetti straps or frills or layers or a pencil skirt or WHATEVER just don't look nearly as nice on. So, ok, I'm no Sienna Miller (or whatever) but... you know, I'm feeling a little isolated out of the market here. Conventional dress sites show stuff that is too formal, too white, too frou frou or whatever, and if it manages to extend beyond these categories, then it is generally designed for someone much, much taller and slimmer than me... with the hips of a 12 year old boy.
Meh.

It's frustrating, mildly depressing, and at times, when I'm feeling vulnerable, kind of soul destroying. 

So I'm going to continue to handwrite invitations and feel cranky and sorry for myself.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Cougars and Cubs

Is this new 'cougar' phenomenon *actually* a phenomenon? There has been much buzz in the media regarding the issue, not the least of which includes a new (and much promoted) tv series titled "Cougar Town" starring a 40-something-but-still-very-hawt Courtney Cox. Of course, preceding this was an article on some trashy - sorry- serious current affairs program on Australian tv regarding the 'cougar phenomenon' amongst women and young, starry eyed and cashed up Rugby League players (and presumably, AFL players, but really, who cares about that weird sport and their oddly cumbersome passing and tackling techniques?).
What has occurred, at least in my observations, is an evolution of the word 'cougar' to mean, not just a hot, older woman, but a hot, older woman over the age of about 35 (this is not precise, I suspect it could be higher?) who is single, looking for a no-commitment relationship with a similarly hot male approximately 10 years their junior. Conversational ability optional.
What I initially understood it to mean, was a woman who was... perhaps in her thirties, seeking same with hot young rugby players. I suppose the lines are blurred and fundamentally the same, but at the tender age of thirty I witnessed an old school friend refer to herself on facebook as a cougar, so was surprised to eventually learn the age requirements for the label were somewhat higher than initially thought.

Meh.

What this means, though, for women, is a reinforcement and perhaps prolonging of the sociological imperative to remain 'hot' for as long as they possibly can, equipping themselves with clingy fabrics, spray tans, perhaps a little surgical aid, and a decent amount of hair and makeup.
Now, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with a woman's desire to look 'nice' - I want to make this clear. However, it is who this effort is for, that I take umbrage with. Is it really, truly, for the woman, if she is then going out and actively seeking the attentions of much younger males (and presumably, competing with younger women, and their nubile, not-yet-had-children bodies). The answer is, I don't know.
Seeking non-committal sex is fantastic, women are to be lauded for having the confidence and self-assuredness to do this, ignoring social expectations to be demure and chaste and acknowledging their desire for what is fundamentally a physical relationship. After all, the only *real* discernible difference between males seeking casual, non-committal sex and entirely physical relationships, and women, is well, some stupid gendered ideas regarding women's biological imperative as the child bearers/carers and generally downtrodden within the male/female: masculine/feminine paradigm. Which isn't very just or fair, nor is it accurate. Gender identities are, as we all well know, malleable, changeable, and forever in a state of flux. That's how we know that they're not inherited, but rather, socialised - because if they were biological then they would be much, much more rigid, and there would be no categories that fell outside of these binary terms (eg, 'feminine men, and 'masculine' women).
So, with respect to this, I admire and respect the cougars. what I don't admire and respect is, as previously stated, women's societal worth being measured largely by their physical appearance, that is, their attractiveness (via social norms of what is and is not attractive), particularly to the opposite sex.
Can't women have one night stands without the nasty removal of almost all pubic hair (additional issues here with mimicking pre-pubescent girls), tan-in-a-can and very expensive dye and blow-dry?
Men are less so expected to fulfill the same physical requirements - the 'yummy mummy'/milf phenomenon does not necessarily translate to 'yummy daddy'/dilf' with such ease and social acceptance- perhaps because it is still taboo for women to discuss such things so publicly.

I don't know. I do admit that I'm not immune to this, but at the same time, I tell myself that I want to buck these trends/expectations and live my life as *I* see fit, measuring my appearance as a body that grows and nourishes life, is strong and fit (And eventually, athletic), moves and sustains and supports my teammates on the sporting field. With this, comes a level of physical fitness that *happens* to fit desirable images of bodies in current society.
In theory.

In reality, I know I'm just as vain as everyone else.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Plans, eh?

So we have 10 weeks till -the date- and I am aware that we have much plans to make, and put in to action.
Yet, motivation is so....
freaking
hard
to
find.

Which is not to say that I don't want to go through with the ceremony - THAT part I'm actually really excited about. What I'm not keen on, is the organisation of having some kind of 'not-your-average' barbeque, with expectations from friends and family that things should look and be a certain way.
Actually- I don't even care about their expecations... so is it my own that concerns me?
I don't know.

I thought that it'd all be easier once I sorted a dress out. In keeping with this, I kept the girls home from school, and went shopping in an effort to gain some inspiration and ideas on appropriate outfits. In doing so, I was reminded just why I dislike shopping - the arduous process of trudging shop to shop, trying on things and, more frequently, not trying things on because it is clear that they would be unflattering/too small/too long/wrong colour.

Thus, the entire experience becomes extraordinarily depressing, reminding myself that I actually *do* have body issues, reinforced by the presence of my daughters' and their critical eyes.

(not that I begrudge my daughters' presence, by any means!)

So, we are as yet dress-less. I admit though, secretly, the idea of getting a dress at the absolute last minute appeals to me.