Doing it Like Dickens

I love Charles Dickens, he’s one of my favourite authors. I like the following things about him

1.     He writes good books

2.     You can always guess whether a character is going to be good or bad.

There’s none of this “oh my Dad didn’t understand me growing up, which is why I treat everyone like rubbish” nonsense, he goes for names that conjure up images of who they are. For example, Mr. Fezziwig (jolly character, described as a happy man with 3 daughters, who wore a powdered wig and a waistcoat)

Mr. Jagger’s, described as a burly man with a large head and large hands, prematurely bald with big bushy eyebrows. I always think he’s a bit spiky and hard for Pip to get to know, but ultimately he’s a good bloke...

and Scrooge, even saying the word sounds mean.

Sometimes stereotypes are good and sometimes they aren’t!

After a long day, I sat down with a magazine and realized it contained the headline

“The Body Debate – Curvy & Happy vs Skinny & Sad”

  I’ll save you the bother of reading it, I’m assuming their research went like this…

However, and here’s the bit where I feel like Einstein talking people through the theory of relativity or Patricia Fielding suggesting Carrie Bradshaw wear Manolas (probably more the second one) I reckon we are happy with whatever body we feel most comfortable in.

  I for example feel far better and more confident when I’m a bit slinkier, some people are perfectly happy with a fuller figure and some slinky people wish they could put a few pounds on. It’s whatever’s right for you.

  I remember saying to a flat chested friend, after she’d had a baby that I bet she loved having bigger boobs. She was horrified that I dare suggest such a thing because none of her couture fashion fitted her temporarily ample bosom. I was horrified, she wouldn’t like having bigger boobs, because I love mine!

 So here’s my scientific research

Katie Has Been Extended Until Further Notice

I realised the other day as I got dressed to go to Zumba, that all my gym gear was basically stuff that I deemed not good enough to wear in polite society, but was too good to throw away. I’m not one of these women who thinks she has to wear a full face of makeup and have perfect hair when she goes to the gym, I pretty much figure I’m there to get hot and sweaty and having your make up running down your face a la Gene Simmons is not a great look. However last week, the slightly vain bit of me, thought it might be OK if I bought some nice gym clothes that I hadn’t owned for 5 years.

My sexy gym look!

 A shopping trip beckoned and as I flicked through the rails I realised that I was in the wrong bit of the shop. Nothing in the section I was looking went above a size 16. I realised I needed to be in the special “fatties” section. They don’t call it that obviously, because that might be offensive, instead they say “plus size” and do you know what it’s a term that really annoys me!

   What does it even mean? I’m a size plus what? Another size? An extra few stone? Who invented the term? At what point do you become “plus size”? Do you receive a letter through the post informing you’re no longer size acceptable?

If you watch something like “America’s Next Top Model”, then Tyra will deem anyone size 12 or over a plus size model. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Tyra, I admire her greatly, but when she says things like “you are a bootlicious curvy beauty doing it for the larger lady” I want to throw my shoe at the tele, Jerry Springer style and scream, she’s a size 12 you moron and has a far nicer body than the daughters of Skeletor you keep putting through!

  I get that the modelling industry has a slightly skewed version of beauty and that using fat people mean you’ll have to use more material in your dresses, which will cost you more, but and here’s something for you to consider…….. fat people like nice clothes too!

We buy them too, only we tend to just call them “clothes” I’ve never heard anyone say I went and bought myself a “plus size dress the other day”, they tend to say “I bought a dress the other day”

 A lingerie brand  recently announced they were dropping the term “plus size” (hurrah) instead they were replacing it with the term “Extended”. There are a few things in life I believe can be extended – holidays, your house, your mortgage or something on a stick so you can wash your windows. I’m not sure a person can be extended! It doesn’t mean anything!

  I don’t mind being called “curvy”, because that conjures up images of Marilyn Monroe, who still sells more magazines when she’s on the cover than any other woman!

  Ajay Rochester who is an author and host of  “Australia’s Biggest Loser” has launched a campaign on Instagram to #droptheplussize as she believes (and I agree) that using the term “plus size” is damaging for the minds of young people and I agree.

  Women come in different shapes and sizes, we’re different heights and weights. For example, someone who is 5ft 11 and weighs 12 stone is going to be a size 12. Another woman who also weighs 12 stone, but is 5ft 3, would probably be a size 16 / 18.

  It makes me laugh that even when I reach my Slinky goal, I’ll still technically have to shop in the “plus size” or “extended” section (if I decide to treat myself to some lingerie) So how’s about we just have clothes shops that sell clothes for women of all shapes and sizes, where you can go in, find what you want, buy it, wear it and feel good in it and not have to head to back of the store where they’ve put a section for fat people?

  I’d also be interested to hear from those who shop in the “petite” section, do you mind being referred to as “petite” or “tiny”?

PS – I lost another pound this week, that’s 6 over 3 weeks, I’ll take that and party!