Fashion Minus The Plus

Anybody who knows me knows I love fashion. However, I have to be honest, right now, fashion needs a good punch in the face. My friend was sending me images of a model who was being considered plus-size. We spoke about it, outraged and both asked ourselves what on earth is going on in the fashion world? At this point I would just like to say that this model was either an absolute bloody liar when it came to telling the brand her size, or she was photoshopped to the end of the earth orrr the plus-size range is a lie. I’m generally a size 10 and stick to that when shopping online, yet this model looked around my size, if not smaller, and we were supposed to be convinced she was a plus-size 16. Now, we all know I have strong opinions on the whole body image topic anyway, but this was just an absolute joke. I got my laptop out and I began looking up plus-size clothing on many websites, some were fine, but some did nothing less than fill me with rage. Yes, this model was gorgeous, but she should not be considered plus-size. Model material? Yes. Model material for the plus-size range? Absolutely not.

And before people start defending teeny tiny “plus size” models with the old ‘You shouldn’t be promoting an unhealthy/overweight lifestyle’ HOLD UP, PEOPLE. I’m a size 10, apple shaped woman and the model looked smaller than me in many areas. Am I obese? Am I trying to promote an unhealthy/overweight lifestyle? Would my size ten clothes fall into an unhealthy category that should be hidden away so people won’t start to consider it sexy or fashionable? No, I’ve just got a bit of carb collection in certain places AND THIS IS NORMAL BECAUSE MILLIONS OF OTHER WOMEN DO TOO.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be considered petite, I do have plenty of curves. I recently waited days for a top to arrive to discover that my boobs don’t even fit into it, I also bought a pair of shorts that will probably only comfortably fit one of my thighs. It was such a struggle to do the shorts up and when I finally did I had to undo them because I was afraid of them like squashing my organs or something. No joke, I actually panicked because they were so tight. So, because of this, would I be considered plus-size? Just because my curves wouldn’t squeeze into a size ten pair of shorts?

Have we not all realised by now that the world is crying out for models that look like the other half of the world’s women? Thin has made it’s stamp on the beauty world and now it is time to throw curves into the mix. I’m not asking for much, I just need them to have a belly that folds over when they sit down, I need leg cellulite that jiggles when they walk, I need shoulders that aren’t perfectly chiseled and I need a chin that has a few more hidden under it. We need something that so many people can relate to. We don’t need people looking at these images of slimmer women and thinking this is considered plus-size, because that would be dangerous. We need diversity, but real diversity, because there is not one version of beauty. Beauty is dancing around my room trying to squeeze into my size ten shorts, beauty is any clothes number above or below my own, beauty is petite and plus and everything in between, but beauty is not trying to hide what society sees as imperfection. How can we be expected to love our curves when they aren’t being glamourised as much as thinner frames?

How can curvier women purchase these clothes when they are being advertised on a smaller woman? And how can young women grow up with an accurate and healthy view of their body when they are questioning themselves and whether society sees them as a smaller or bigger built woman? Where does this leave the women between petite and plus-size? Size 8/10/12/14 are all such common sizes, so what bracket do we fall into? I look at these models and think ‘This is an absolute joke’ but some girls may not think that, some girls may think ‘Oh my god, I’m bigger than her, I didn’t even know I was plus-size’ or they may think ‘I’m much bigger than her, if she is plus-size then what am I?’ The answer? You are real. You are not a false fashion advertisement or a woman under the burden of society and it’s corrupt norms.

Clothes sizes are not reliable, my shorts proved that. I could be a size 10 in one shop on a Monday and a size 12 in another shop on a Tuesday, and to this day I still don’t know what bra size I actually am because it’s always changing so much. All I know is I do carry weight, parts of me are more jiggly than others, real plus-size women are just as sexy as the fake ones you see in magazines and on the internet, the fashion world makes me very annoyed at times and I’m going to have to buy another pair of those shorts and sew them both together because I’ve lost the bloody receipt!

Moments With My Mum

I couldn’t let Mother’s Day pass without dedicating a post to the most brutally honest, annoying, bossy bestie – my mum. Even though we kill each other, she comes out with some classic lines when it comes to advising me on love and I always have girls saying “Your mum is so cool about things, you can tell her everything!” I have listed a few classic mum moments below for you to have a giggle about and maybe some of you can even relate if your mother is your best friend and half as mad as mine. Hope you enjoy!

“I would hate to be your age now, men these days are weird!”
Okay, she has a point with that one…

“How was the date? Was he nice? Was it awkward? Did you find out if he has a crazy ex-girlfriend?”

Yeah of course mum, “I’ll have the chicken and a sprite, what would your ex usually order?”

“Thought you didn’t even want a boyfriend last week, why are you crying?”
People change, time moves on.

*Mid emotional breakdown* “If you’re feeling up to it later, can you hang the washing out and peel the spuds?”
Time to start dramatically singing about my miserable life at the washing line again…

“These phones are awful, you’re always checking up on each other. I never used to know what your dad was doing from one day to the next and that time he went to England in 2010 he didn’t ring me all week, I didn’t know if he was dead or alive!”
Are we not over that time yet, nah?

“If he can’t see your worth he doesn’t deserve you anyway. WAIT, ACTUALLY! Maybe he heard about your psycho moments and he has seen you drunk?”
Yep, thanks mum, really highlighting that worth right now.

“If you want someone to cuddle, go and cuddle your dad”

“Someday, someone is going to sweep you off your feet when you’re least expecting it, you just haven’t met him yet!”
And something we all know to be true… Mums are ALWAYS right.

Happy Mother’s Day! Xx

Making It Up As We Go Along

I decided to write about this important (possibly controversial) topic because it was starting to wind me up and make me concerned for people who are being picked on. In society today we are all for “Yessss women empower women! Let’s not bring each other down!” Which is great, obviously. However, I just have to ask, if you want to make each other feel better, then WHY DO PEOPLE MOCK MAKEUP? Why do so many women feel the need to comment on other women’s interests and the things that make them happy? I have recently done two makeup courses because I love makeup! I didn’t do them because I thought I was going to become the best makeup artist to ever walk the earth, I did it because I am passionate about it, wanted to improve my skills and pursue this passion further so that I can do makeup on other people. Do I laugh at anybody who goes to study to be a doctor or a teacher or an accountant? Do I sit there and think “Oh my god that is so funny, she can’t do that but she’s still going to study it anyway!” No, I don’t, because you can’t do anything until you learn how to do it. If we all knew how to do everything then what would be the point of learning?

Makeup is an art, similarly to painting or writing, it is a world of endless, creative possibilities and colour. It is also a lot more powerful than other things because what other job do you know that can make you go from a just rolled out of bed three to a ready to slay 10 and suddenly give you self confidence in a matter of minutes? I think I am writing this because even though I did these makeup courses I realised I am afraid of putting myself out there simply because other women scare the crap out of me! I mean, what world are we living in? What are we facing? The Battle of Baking 1066? The Siege of the Setting Spray? The Conquer of Contour? Why can’t I just wear my makeup the way I want to without other women threatening to kill me with the sharpness of their winged liner or the fullness of their lips? LET THE PEOPLE LIVE.

It hit me that I worked hard for and put all this money into something I love and now, at 21 years of age, I am afraid to keep improving my skills because of the bitchy, judgmental comments and sly digs that could be waiting for me in all corners of the internet. Funnily enough, writing is on a similar level, some people will hate my work but I write about the passion that is burning inside me because it’s who I am and what I love. You may be reading this as a person who dislikes me, but you’re still reading it, aren’t you? You probably think “Ugh, what has she put up now?” but you have no reason to mock my passions, you have no right to put down the places where my heart is based and if you do then your own heart is in the wrong place.

Anyway, back to makeup! Makeup is a fun thing to do and the fun part is there are no rules. Can you really compare Michelangelo’s statue of David to The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali and say which artist is better? One is marble and one is paint, one is Rimmel and one is MAC, one is settled and one is still learning and exploring. Some of us love living in a world of colour and glitter and a bold lip with an equally bold eye, then others prefer nudes and neutrals. Who started creating rules? Why are girls being shamed for wanting to pursue the popular job of a MUA?

Everybody is different – some people will look at the clouds in the sky and see shapes, but others will just see clouds. You cannot make someone see the shapes you see and you cannot make someone appreciate your own perspective of something because our minds are so different. The sad part about that is some people let the harsh parts of their minds spill out of their mouth too much. By doing this they are altering the beauty and shapes in the clouds that others see and making them doubt themselves. Women become too afraid to be themselves and stop their creativity flowing because it doesn’t live up to a standard set by social media. You know we all lived before Instagram, right? You know we all started out with makeup out of magazines and our mum’s makeup bag?

Even though it may seem like harmless fun, you don’t know the level of other people’s insecurities. You do not know how early a student may get up in the morning to try and perfect her brows to look like all the other girls in her class, you don’t know about the girls who stay up until 4am watching makeup tutorials just because they feel like they have to to fit in with the Instagram ideal, you just don’t know how important makeup is for some women’s confidence. Personally for me, makeup is something I really enjoy because I’m a creative person, but I do not mind going without it and I have learned to embrace my insecurities. For example, I always joke about my chin because it is so pointy when I smile and I have no top lip at all! My eyebrows have always been bushy and I find it so difficult to shape them properly because they just cannot be tamed. I’m also so pale that even the lightest foundation shades make me look like I’m about to drag Augustus Gloop out of the chocolate pipe!

This generation we’re living in is, to be honest, an absolute joke at times. People spit out comments thinking they’ve been sugar coated on the way out by their expensive lipstick. Writing mean comments will never be anything but mean. How can we raise strong women in a world that is so thoughtless, narrow minded and picky? How can I choose between going makeup free or full on makeup when either choice is going to be criticised? A makeup brush is just like a paint brush, so let people create with it whatever way they want to.

I wrote this post because I got sick of seeing people put down other people when they are trying their best to improve themselves or try something new. I can take a joke as much as the next person but when beauty is such a huge influence in people’s lives today, we can’t afford to have people suffering underneath the burden of it when it is meant to be about self expression. We need to let people do what they want – whether they want to wear no makeup at all or put on layers of different products. In my opinion, your own way of doing makeup isn’t right or wrong because what you may love someone else may hate and that is just the way the world goes round in every aspect of life. Trends come and go, remember when Paris Hilton was the ultimate it girl and now it’s Kim K? My point being it’s important not to get too wrapped up in these fads because they won’t last forever.

As for my own appearance, after many failed attempts to contour away the infamous chin, I realised it isn’t going anywhere and I’m also just one of those unfortunate people that will always have a spot appear during the day on the end of my nose without realising it! I also realised that despite people being so quick to make others feel insignificant, it is a shame nobody is skilled enough to contour away negativity when it comes to how girls see each other. Can we all please take a step back and see what really needs to be highlighted here? Makeup products are supposed to enhance your natural, outer beauty, not disguise your inner beauty.

The Fear

Since it is finally Sunday (longest weekend ever) and I have had the opportunity all day to reflect on my life whilst dying a little, I have decided to write a short, light hearted post about the fear. If you have never heard of the fear, I would like you to know that there is actually nothing light hearted about it. The only way I can describe it is as something that consumes you and quite easily ruins your life. After a heavy night of drinking you will wake up to 73 Snapchats you can’t even remember but yet at the time decided it was a good idea to send to every lad on your contact list, there will be 45 texts abusing your ex who you broke up with four years ago, a load of nip slips on your Snapchat story that went unnoticed the night before, you will also have to mentally prepare yourself before you open your handbag to check for your favourite lipstick which is now long gone and probably sitting in a toilet cubicle somewhere along with your dignity, tears, age card and possibly your best friend who you more than likely lost twenty minutes into the night.

The only way to truly escape the fear is by not drinking, something I was supposed to be doing last night until I woke up this morning with the realisation that I in fact did not listen to my own advice… AGAIN. For me, the fear is usually waking up on Sunday morning and staring at the ceiling in complete and utter horror drowning in the lingering smell of kebab in my bedroom until the 73 Snapchats get opened and my ex leaves me on read or replies, which are both equally as annoying as each other. Sorry hun, I’m not the same gal I was six hours ago, I’ll talk to you next Saturday instead!

I had avoided the fear for a good while, being so wary of my alcohol intake considering two sips in I usually end up crying about anything and everything. There was also a time when I ended up throwing a slice of fruit at a guy as a way of handling the situation. Yessss let me fire this slice of fruit at his head and miss, that will really show him! No, the only thing it showed me was how dreadful my aim is and that drink makes me more bitter than the actual lemon itself. Also, my pride in that moment looked as pathetic as the squashed lemon slice on the floor. Ladies, I would not recommend it unless your aim is at least 400 times better than mine and he has a wide head. Ohhhh the fruit, ohhhh the fear.

Anyway, to finish off this post, I would just like to remind all of you that we all have the fear and people probably don’t remember what you did because they’re so busy trying to slow down their heart rate as they’re staring at their bedroom ceiling trying to piece together the antics of the night, lemons and all. No matter how good her Instagram selfie is, there was definitely more to that night than the caption.

Hope you all enjoyed this post and are recovering from the long weekend! Don’t panic about dealing with the consequences when you meet your friends/co-workers tomorrow morning, just avoid eye contact at all costs until at least Tuesday afternoon…

Have a lovely week everybody! xx

Side note: Please see picture below which shows me trying to smile and be cool about the fact I’m three vodkas in but forgot to put any fruit or veg in my clutch…oooops…

Oh, another side note, anyone else LOVING fishnets lately?! Yes I am changing the subject, we can’t dwell on the weekend forever people, life goes on…

International Women’s Day – My Body, My Choice.

Happy International Women’s Day! For the day that’s in it I have decided to have my say on a very important issue going on in Ireland at the moment, Repeal the 8th. For anybody who may not know what the 8th Amendment is, it is a part of the Constitution of Ireland which means the right to life of an unborn child is equal to the mothers.

Nobody on this earth knows my body better than I do and nobody ever will, due to this, I firmly believe and know that my reproductive system is something that I need full control over. I mean, do you think I bleed for five days every month and suffered with pains from an ovarian cyst for years of my teenage life to hand power over these very precious and important parts to a higher authority with no compassion for me as an individual? If I woke up in the morning to find that I was carrying another life inside of me, which is very possible for women everywhere, contraception or not, I would like to think I have options. I am not asking for the feeling of shame, I am asking for support. I am not asking for a plane ticket, I am asking for compassion at home. I am not asking for murder (as many people call it), I am asking for choice.

Every single day we are telling women to love their bodies, but how can they fully do this when they don’t have basic rights to their bodies? Irish Government, do you love my body as much as I am expected to? If you are so concerned about my reproductive system, would you like to experience my period pains for me? Would you like to buy my tampons? Would you mind finding a way to make rape a horrific thing of the past? How many of you felt embarrassed reading all of that? This is what is wrong with our country, we are shying away from the real issues. Every woman has a body that functions the same way, there is no shame in sex, and there is no shame in the consequences of sex. Every sex story happens and ends up differently, and we need to have compassion as a nation for these outcomes.

I read something recently where someone said the solution was to just use contraception. This is sadly the realities we are facing when people cannot open their eyes to the bigger picture. I am on the pill, I use condoms, I have taken the morning after pill before, but things aren’t that simple, I don’t know what challenges may face me next month, next week, next year or who will be facing them with me. Every situation is different and being pro-choice doesn’t mean you are going to get an abortion, it means giving women the freedom to choose what is right for them in their own situation. We can’t make a decision for others, but we should be able to allow them to have a choice.

If my body is carrying a child, it is half mine and half of a man, but my body is still carrying it. I am not saying the man doesn’t have rights to his baby but in some cases this baby isn’t going to arrive into the world and be held in loving arms. In some cases this baby will be brought into the world by a woman who has no man waiting for her outside of the hospital room. In some cases this baby will be brought into the world by a young girl, who, sadly, wasn’t educated enough to know about contraception. In some cases this baby will be brought into the world by a woman who can’t even look him/her in the eye because the eyes of her rapist will be staring back at her. In some cases this babies life will be full of suffering and pain due to extreme illness or disability. In some cases this baby will arrive into a financially unstable, unplanned, unhappy situation. No matter what the situation, if I get pregnant, I am still the body carrying this child. My body, my choice, right? Wrong.

Wake up Ireland, you are not an under-developed country, you are not a country that is facing extreme poverty or dictatorship. You are however, taking many steps backwards instead of forwards. Why is there such a stigma surrounding abortion? Why do you feel the need to brush women’s wombs under the carpet? You are still so burdened by the beliefs of the Catholic Church even though their own dirty secrets and the lives they claim to value so much are buried beneath the ground you and I walk on.

Let me remind you all, I am not looking for an abortion, I am looking for choice. Every single woman deserves to wake up with options which don’t include isolation, financial struggle and travelling far and wide for basic human rights. A woman should be able to wake up in the morning knowing she has the compassion of her home country behind her and make a decision based on what she knows and feels to be the best choice in her heart and soul. Do you think women take abortion lightly? Do you think those of us who are pro-choice wouldn’t think about the future pitter-patter of tiny feet or whether the baby would be a boy or a girl? Of course we would, I have never been pregnant but that maternal instinct is built into us all, but sometimes it isn’t that simple and sometimes women will feel they have no choice apart from travelling to England or taking abortion pills and when things get to that point there is no shame for anybody apart from Ireland and the 8th Amendment.

Shame on you Ireland, shame on you.