Friday, May 27, 2011

Bad Girl Status.

Lately, all over the intertubes I am seeing a resurgence of Bad Girl* Empowerment chic.

On one hand I enjoy it because deep down, yes I am still a Bad Girl*. However, most of what I see revolves around a few common themes. And yes I'm going to be a little bitchy and a little hyperbolic.
  • OH NOES I eated a cupcake
  • OH NOES I only worked out for an hour instead of two hours.
  • OH NOES I haven't shaved my (insert X here..pubes/legs/whatever) in TWO WHOLE DAYS.
  • OH NOES I showed some leg in a picture everyone will think I"m a slut.
Etc etc ad nauseum.

(Also when I say women* or Girls* I am using these terms in way that means that anyone who identifies as a girl, woman, lady, female etc. I'm also using it in a general this is what I'm calling this thing kind of way. In other words no one has to be an actual girl or woman or female identified human to play.)

Ahem.

Look my homies, if you want to be a Bad Girl* that's awesome. I see where you're going with it and you know what I approve. I do.

BUT, seriously baby doing "bad" things that are actually amoral (as in having no moral value one way or another) does not make a girl bad.

Yes it's a good baby step to being Bad if in this context we're using Bad to indicate that one is breaking societal "rules" that one deems stupid.

It just depresses me.

It depresses me to see women* clapping each other on the back for breaking rules that are in effect only hurting themselves.

What I mean is this. If you assume that one is a Bad Girl* because one has eaten a cupcake, you are coming from a place that says it is a bad thing to eat something because you enjoy it, to eat something that may or may not be "healthy", or to eat something that might Gods forbid make you appear to be, feel or be (eventually) fat.

The thing that bothers me most is that this self identified Bad Girl* behavior does not to me seem to be coming from a place of strength which is where a serious Bad Girl* is coming from. Declaring oneself bad because one is presumably flying in the face of the dreaded fatness, because we all know being fat is like the worst thing POSSIBLE EVER, is well fucked.

Now as a self proclaimed Bad Girl* let me give you aspiring Bad Girls* some pointers.
  • Bad Girls* need not be afraid of doing whatever the fuck they want to with their bodies. Mod the shit out of yourself, stick needles in your areas, don't shave, shave everything from the top of your head to the fuzz on your toes, wear a shirt that shows your gut, stay covered from head to toe do whatever you want but, do not go there in a state of giggly fear. Do those things with your head up high, your back straight and with the absolute knowledge that No One Can Fuck with you about whatever choice you've made because you are a Bad Mother Fucker.
  • Bad Girls* Need Not fight amongst themselves. Which means if you are a Bad Girl* and you see another Bad Girl* who has made a decision to do something you don't like, a real Bad Girl* would not cut the other down. A serious Bad Girl* might say, "Hey I think what you're doing/wearing/your tattoos/your shoes etc are fucked but you go on with your Bad Self." Why? This skill is important because we are taught to hate each other. As women we are expected to call each other sluts, to judge what others are wearing, to insult each other, to not get along because that's what bitches do right? The thing is, it takes far more fortitude and strength to acknowledge that you know what, you and I will never EVER like each other and it's okay.  It is the Bad Mother Fuckers who can live and let live. Is is the Baddest Mother Fuckers who can not only live and let live but support others in that living.
These are my top two Fake Bad Girl* pitfalls.

Now that we know what Bad Girls* don't need to do, how does one start?

First thing is that you must understand that sometimes being a Bad Girl* means you have to be that girl. That you have say tell someone to shut their racist piehole, that you have to tell someone to fuck off, that you have to give someone the do not touch me lest I destroy you where you stand look. Sometimes being a Bad Girl* means you have to stand up for someone who can't stand up for themselves. Maybe that means you tell a random cat calling dbag on the street to shut the fuck up because the woman* in front of you has her head ducked and looks afraid.

Maybe you need to leave that comment saying that your favorite blogger (myself included possibly) needs to not be a Dick and be a Richard.

Bad Girls* must learn that even if they are super smart, genius level humans that they do not have to hold all the cards. That there are things they just don't understand and might never understand and that's okay. Bad Girls* may know ALL THE FANCY words but know when to shut the fuck up.

Bad Girls* must also understand that their flavor of Bad Girl* Life, may not include the same things that my flavor of Bad Girl* Life and that can be freaky, it can make one of us upset but it's okay. One Bad Girl* does not have to be the same as another and serious Bad Girls* will be really fucking happy about that.

Bad Girls* sometimes have to be loud and interrupt shit.

Bad Girls* sometimes need to put a foot down and say, NO. No, no and fuck no.

Bad Girls* need to learn to if not love each other then at least give each other the Sooper Sekrit nod of acknowledgment.

Bad Girls* Don't need to take shit from anyone about their gender presentation, their sexual preferences, their wardrobe choices, the size of their asses, what kind of toilet paper they use, the state of the hair in their crotches or anything else like that. Theories are well and good, ideas are well and good but real Bad Girls* know when to step off.

Bad Girls* understand that sometimes we have to break it down for other people. Sometimes we have to explain things that we've known for ages in order to welcome them into the fold if they want to come in. Bad Girls* understand that a lack of knowledge about a particular issue or subject is not a moral failing and we will not be assholes to people who maybe just don't know about things.

Above all else, serious Bad Girls* embrace the simple truth that life is a mother fucker for all of us in differing ways. Serious Bad Girls* know and understand that a big part of our Bad Girl* Status is heavily involved in all the things that make us who we are and have an impact on our lives. Our privileges, Our lack of privileges, where we live, who we live around, how we were raised and at what stage of Bad Girl* status we're at.

For me Bad Girl Status isn't just for Girls*.

You want to be a Bad Girl and you're a boy? To quote my favorite meme, Be Dat Shit.

Are you Genderqueer? FTM? MTF? Somewhere along the line of binary gender? Don't follow binary ideas about Gender? Have a penis? Don't have a penis? Have a vagina? Have a girlcock? Boypussy?

Whatever kind of junk you have, yes you can be a Bad Girl* too.

All I'm going to require is that you be human. Otherwise we may have to haggle about your Bad Girl Status.

This message brought to you today by me being cranky and spending a long while unfollowing, unfriending etc Fake Ass Bad Girls.

Homo Out.
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Tuesday, May 24, 2011

When good outfits go bad. The leggings saga and sad story of my ass.

Last Winter I invested in quite a few pairs of both thin and thicker leggings in order to facilitate pantslessness.

I found that most of the cheap thin tights weight leggings I bought on Ebay were too small in the thigh or too low rise for my taste.

The tights weight leggings from Target in their 1x/2x size and I love the feel, love the colors but the thigh parts are a wee bit pinchy.

I did find one pair of smooth soft black leggings on ebay that are super awesomely comfortable BUT...I do not have enough booty to keep them firmly covering said booty. Such are the perils of having some big ass hams and a booty that does not match in terms of roundness and volume.

I had a moment when I flailed after being heartbroken about the thigh parts not fitting in a pair of bright pink and black striped leggings, I had that god damn it if I was X bit smaller I would...

Yeah no wait.

Even when I was a size 8 I always wore queen size hosiery because of my hams.

Amazing when a moment of bodily dissonance is completely canceled out by memory.

Anyway.

So I have on such a cute outfit but I had to layer on a sweater and I'm bitter because this is not the right sweater for this outfit and yet necessary because I get cold and the weather is not filmy sleeveless dress friendly.

I was admiring my outfit today and decided that instead of being so fucking cheap I will go ahead and buy good leggings.

This is one of the problems with slowly reubilding ones wardrobe. It can be frustrating to not have the right parts.

Slow as it is I have some pieces I love.

Now let's talk about some pieces that I would really like to save up for in my pursuit of pantslessness all year unless it snows.

I LOVE the Wonda Willow skirt from Alienskin.

Also from Alienskin I love the babydoll dress. I'm a huge fan of babydolls and am wearing one right now.

I'm also thinking I'm going to pick myself up a pair of more substantial oxfords, perhaps some ankle boots for fall.

I'm really hoping to wind up with more of an all season wardrobe with warm emergency pants.

I also really honestly seriously need to start sewing again. Frankly it's a bit daunting as I still worry about financing that endevour. Although I do fantasize about making some fabulous affordable fatty clothes.

Once upon a time I had ambitions of being something of a wee tailor. Perhaps someday.

Currently though I'm not even going to start any serious sewing projects. I don't have the room, I no longer have an iron I'd use on new fabrics and the washing machines at my apartment building like to stain things.

Do you have any wardrobe plans?

Working on a broke ass budget?

What are you lusting for? What do you save up for?

Now I must be off. I need food and to get some writing done.

Homo Out.

PS...OMG someone please tell me I don't really need high heeled ankle boots because I really don't.
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Monday, May 23, 2011

Sometimes, I'm disappointed.

Okay so to jump right into things, when I saw Lesley post a link about her stuff on Jane Pratt's new project xoJane, I was tentatively kind of into it.

I took a couple of days to read through some stuff and well, I'm disappointed.

First let's look at the about section:

xoJane.com is where women go when they are being selfish, and where their selfishness is applauded. This is not the place to find out how to please your husband, mom, kids or boss. This is the place to indulge in what makes you feel good.

We are not snarky, but inclusive and uplifting, while remaining nothing but honest at all times. Like Sassy and Jane before it, xoJane.com is written by a group of women (and some token males) with strong voices, identities and opinions, many in direct opposition to each other, who are living what they are writing about.

xoJane.com is not about changing yourself to fit any mold of what others think you should be. It is about celebrating who you are.

xoJane is a collaboration between Jane Pratt and SAY Media.

Yay right? I mean it sounds good. It sounds like something I would say oh SHIT YEAH.

I decided against linking any particular articles, I don't know any of the authors except for Lesley and I don't want to make it a oh look what she said kind of thing.

Here's the deal.

Despite such rah rah message nothing about xoJane makes me feel uplifted. And to quote the about, like Sassy and Jane before it, xoJane too makes me feel little more than excluded without ever having been invited.

Again, as I went through article after article there were no applicable make up tips for me a chocolatey black woman. There were no hair, not even any asides that say if you are a woman of color try this, nothing.

Honestly xoJane feels more like every other lady mag dressed up with some DIY and sassy mouthed aesthetic.

The thing that upsets me is not the what two pictures of Black women or the dearth of diversity (admittedly I didn't search hard but nothing drew me in) what upsets me at this point is just the disappointment.

Again.

I guess that I had the hope that all these years on something might have changed. If not Jane's tastes perhaps a thought for us others.

Also this is very timely as an essay that I wrote about how Riot Grrl culture also left me excluded is going to be in a magazine. Not to give it all away but Sassy plays a part in it.

And here we are, here I am with that same sad feeling.

I realize that as I've said not all spaces are for all people including me. The issue I have (that I can articulate now that I'm older and fancy) is that spaces that have what comes across as a hip liberal vibe, and turn out not to be so much are just frustrating to me.

To my mind if you're telling women that this is your place, and there's no place for the kind of woman I am what then?

Perhaps I'm off here but as I was reading I got the same feeling I've gotten at certain events in my meatworld. The type of event where I look around and the nice White ladies smile at me nervously, they want to tell me I'm so cool for being there, or for participating but there's that invisible "holy SHIT WHAT DO WE DO" moment where no one knows what else to say.

Now, I realize that this feeling, call it an intuition isn't easy to get across in a blog. I also realize that if you've never experienced that moment you're probably thinking I'm overreacting or being over sensitive.

I might be but, as of this moment in my life that is where my brain goes. Probably because that moment has been one that has happened over and over again like some kind of demented 'Groundhog Day' and there's rarely been anyone for me to talk to about it.

So while I'm super happy to see Lesley have her work in more places because I enjoy her writing, I won't be revisiting xoJane.

Now I don't expect that suddenly xoJane or any other publication will be full of Black folks things. I don't.

I would be really happy to see some nod to or evidence of the thought of, oh hey maybe not everyone reading this is a Nice White lady.

It's not as hard as it seems. For instance I think it's Glamour that I was reading a while back and one of the beauty trend things about bronzer talked about bronzers for everyone from the super pale to the deep chocolately brown that I am and it made me happy. Even a line or two that says hey if you are X try X instead for the same look.

The actual work of inclusivity can be really fucking hard. It's a daunting task to go outside of those who are rather like yourself. It's hard but I believe in the end it's worth it.

Now thank you my darlings for being patient with me while I finish The. Book. I'm gettin so close. So. Close.

I do still need some $$ help so here's the chip in thing.



I currently have my cover ready (sans title). I have pulled some definite blog posts that will get gussied up for inclusion.

Look out for the reader poll this week.

Um.

Yeah.

Holy shit this is happening.

As ever if you can't donate don't sweat it. I will need other help with things like promotion coming up.

Also you can still get me on the kindle in the US for .99. It's still only available in the US for some reason. I'll keep my non US homies updated as I find out info.

Okay that's all honey badgers.

Homo Out.
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Monday, May 16, 2011

How not to talk to strangers about their bodies.

Okay y'all.

It's been a little bit of a day.

Almost every day I like to go to Starbucks for coffee. I get the same thing every day, I am a regular and spending that 3 dollars is something that makes me happy and sane.

Every day I get a venti (20 oz) Americano (espresso shots/water) iced when it's warm hot when it's cold. I like two squirts of vanilla syrup and a touch of room.

After I got my coffee today a woman walked out right behind me, tapped me on the shoulder and informed me that it would be ever so much better for me if I used the non-fat for my "calorie laden drink".

Ahem.

As I informed her that the drink she had in her hand (some sort of mocha thing) had more shit in it that if I'd ordered four of my drinks.

Second of all it's none of her fucking business.

Furthermore, her you poor ignorant fatass tone was not appreciated.

I do not approve of the idea or insinuation that I am unable to think for myself or make decisions regarding my own health.

That is unacceptable.

I told her simply that I thought her tone and the things she was saying were disrespectful.

It is disrespectful to approach someone this way because it works on the assumption that the person you are speaking to is ignorant. In approaching someone uninvited and with the idea that they are doing something wrong or that you just don't approve of you are asserting some kind of moral dominance and it's not welcome.

Contrary to what the media may have you believe most people are very well aware of what's in their food and drink.

Clearly this woman took a look at my fat self and decided that she could read my health status.

She was wrong.

The fact is that my afternoon before work coffee is usually what keeps my blood sugar from plummeting an hour into my work shift. The fact is, I am not a big breakfast eater regardless of how much I try.

The idea of food during the first few hours I'm awake just disgusts me. however, as I get older I grow more and more borderline hypoglycemic and I can't usually keep my blood sugar steady until I can eat without some kind of sugar. I like my sugar in the form of a couple of pumps of vanilla syrup or the occasional simple syrup.

Now really, how many of us run to take the advice of random strangers? Do people who do this kind of thing think other people are so mindless that they will say, OH HAY I don't know you but you're so right...no.

So if you really are in fact concerned about another persons health walking up to them and educating them with what works for you doesn't demonstrate it.

If you're concerned about me ask how I'm doing and respect me if I don't choose to share personal information with you. If I do choose to share information listen to what I'm really saying and don't pick out the "bad fatty" parts.

Figure out what is not appropriate behavior and don't excuse yourself because you think you're Captain Save a Fatass all of a sudden.

That's all.

OH wait someone asked about getting this blog via Kindle in the UK and I'm sorry sugar it's not available yet. I honestly don't understand why but that's what amazon customer service says. Maybe email them and tell them you want it?

For everyone else get this blog here in the US on the kindle for 1.99 a month.

You can also read some tiny fiction by me in The Literary Burlesque.

UM tomorrow a book update.

Also in the next couple of weeks look for a poll where I need your input on some entries I'd like to include in the book. Think sexytimes advice.

Now my darlings I love you all my homies and haters.

Homo Out.
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Monday, May 09, 2011

Oh my face.

I never thought about my face in any way aside from an oh hey that's my face kind of way until I was in the sixth grade.

I remember my allergies were really bad that year and I was on a cocktail of antihistamines and one of them had this side effect. After a few weeks on one of the drugs I developed huge black bags under my eyes. They weren't just the kind you get when you haven't slept well, they were huge and dark.

They were bad enough that the school nurse actually asked if someone had hit me.

Thus started very abruptly my (eventual) hatred of my own face.

Fast forward to my late teens. I had so many really beautiful young lady friends and I hung out with them and felt like the ugly kid out 99% of the time. One of the problems for me was that I had no peers of color.

I quite honestly thought I was the ugly girl who was smart and funny and cool but you know, not the kind of girl people wanted to look at or talk to.

Most of this stemmed from the one thing that I am to this very day self conscious about.

My skin.

I am a somewhat recovering skin picker. The big problem is that my facial skin scars if I look at it cross eyed and for years I had so many dark marks on my face and throat I felt like I was just awful.

Sometimes I still catch myself fixating on those spots and just wanting to claw my face off so I can have my insurance pay to fix it.

I'm also slightly cockeyed. Unless I am unhealthily thin I don't really have angles to my face. My skin is what one dermatologist called massively oily. Duh. It's also highly sensitive and prone to being burnt by products and peeling.

Sometimes I notice how asymetrical my face is and the weird facial expressions I make. My skin makes me cringe etc etc.

The thing is, there have been very few times when another person has called me ugly and it's hurt nearly as much as when I've picked my own appearance apart. No one has ever said anything as fucked up to me as I've said to myself.

People have tried.

Dealing with my own face is why I actually started taking make up pictures a few years ago. See those here. I've used those pictures to desensitize myself to a degree.

Sometimes those pictures still freak my shit out. My face looks so weird to me. It's nothing I can name that would make you go oh right I see you're weird looking. I don't care if anyone else says that no I'm not gross.

It's a process. Some days I think my face is pretty cool and when I see a picture of myself or I see myself in the mirror I"m okay. Other days, not so much.

Other days I wonder what the fuck I'm thinking walking out in public like this.

Other times I don't even recognize my face. It feels like I'm looking at some strange woman with my voice.

I've tried over the years to figure out why I feel this way sometimes. Honestly I don't know.

What I do know is that for my own sanity and as a measure of my radical self love I coax myself through those bad moments. I know they happen and I don't berate myself for having them. I don't throw up my hands with myself.

I make myself be good to my skin. I reckon that if I make myself take care of myself, I will feel better in the long run.

I'm the only one who can get me through it. Nobody (even Uniballer) telling me I'm beautiful can make me feel better or can get me through the rough days.

This is for my friend who was amazed that sometimes I hate my face.

It's for those of you who also sometimes hate your faces or whatever other thing about yourselves.

It's okay. I won't tell you that you have to love yourself all the time because frankly I don't think anyone can do that.

Love yourself the best you can. Be nice to yourself when you feel like shit. Don't delete those pictures that make you upset. Keep them.

I wish I had a magic cure or magic words to make it better. I don't. I can only commiserate and tell you that it's fucked up but, it doesn't have to stay that way. It's not easy, matter of fact sometimes my self care is the hardest act of love I can commit.

You can do it too.

You can start maybe with not picking at your face if you do that. Or putting sunscreen on before you leave the house. Or wearing chapstick. Put lotion on your hands. Take an extra second in the morning to stretch or take a leisurely pee.

I can tell you that sometimes, much of the time it's the little things that save my sanity and keep the hate and bad feelings at bay. Tiny pleasures that I know will do me good.

Now my darlings exciting news. You can now buy a Kindle subscription to my blog! HOLY SHIT RIGHT? Get the details on Amazon over here. If you do that please let me know how it goes.

Work on The. Book. Continues. Today I finished up two essays. And I have to warn you my homies some of the essays will be really difficult to read. They hurt to write. I make sure I give lots of warning before I get down to it but be aware my homies.

I'm going to say I'm about 40% of the way there. Slower than anticipated but yeah. It's been hard.

Okay that's all for right now. Later this week I'm going to try and do a tights review post. I've tried out some new tights and I've got some shit to say about a trend I seem to be finding.

I also want to talk about how fitness can be SUCH a pain in my fat ass y'all don't even know the bullshit. And it's probably not what you think.

Now homework. For me, take a minute or five or forty five later and do something nice for yourself. Rub your temples, have a wank, give yourself a mani, use the good face wash. Do something nice.

Homo Out.
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Tuesday, May 03, 2011

Sometimes, ladies I just can't do it with you anymore.

Sometimes I want to give up on women (as in those who identify as women). I blame the fact that the internet has made it easy for me to follow around my favorite women, there are blogs and twitter streams, face book pages and everything else. I read so many of their words and sometimes I just want to give them up the way sometimes you have to force yourself to give up a lover not because they are necessarily a bad partner but because they aren’t healthy for you to be around.

I hate it.

I read what these often conventionally attractive women say about their bodies and the often cavalier way they speak hatefully about their own bodies. I remember one author talking about her awful fat thighs and posting a picture of the offending body parts. To my eyes they looked like toned thighs that touch yes but not fat in any way.

I read those things and I have flashbacks of listening to my friends talk about another girl we all knew, about what a fat awful bitch she was. That girl was significantly thinner than I and I remember feeling mortified. I wondered if they mooed when I wasn’t around, if when I wasn’t sitting right there they called me a fat bitch.

I realize that on one hand it’s comforting to see that these thin pretty women have their issues too. On the other hand it floors me and makes me sad that these women haven't yet realized that they don't have to say that there are things wrong with them.

Also a note from a reader who is actually fat, when all the bad things are fat related. If you say you're fat because you're lazy or because you had ham with your lunch instead of a said or whatever, that's not cool. I take that shit personally.

I go right back to being 15 and sitting chewing the inside of my mouth raw because I am everything bad and no one is saying anything to my face right that second because they are being polite and they like me.

When I see people I know are smart and loving take part in the culture of self hate so wholeheartedly it just hurts me. Even worse when it comes to women I've spoken to on the internets, I have that moment where I wonder if they would not talk to me if they knew that I am an actual fat person.

Would they be nice in an email and then turn to whomever and say oh this fat bitch?

I never really know how to approach people I don't know on a personal level about these things. other than to not follow/read them anymore.

I know that sometimes all it can take to get someone to think about the language they are using is for one person to say oh hey, hey that's not cool.

I also know that I would probably not take it super well if my thoughts were taken to be insults or call outs.

It makes me tired y'all.

So let me say this. Women (as in those who identify as women) please, when you talk about all the awful things you are because you're fat or because you perceive yourself as fat you're not doing yourself or anyone else any favors. I know that we're all human and have shitty days but maybe try to go easy on the self hating talk.

I won't like you or your writing any more if you don't post about your fat ass that in all actuality isn't fat. I won't like you any less if you say you had ham for lunch and it was mother fucking delicious.

I may like you a little less if you equate fat with all the bad things.

Okay folks.

I know posts are few and far between. I'm steaming ahead on The. Book. Look out for a poll in the next week or two. Um. Yeah this is going down and it's frightening.

What else?

I keep thinking there's something else I wanted to say but I don't know.

Right so that's all for now. I'm going to go write more things. Y'all tell me what you're up to. Show me pictures, fling some links. Have at it y'all.

Homo Out.
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