Archive for the 'It's all about me' Category

OoTD No. 3 – Starring the Whipper Snipper

Going through my old blog posts, this is my first OoTD since… August?! Shit, really? This year has gone outrageously fast.

This is my first summer outfit post, as well as my first time showing you a glimpse of Work Frances.

On Friday, I went out with the in-laws for the Boyfriend’s birthday dinner (The Light Brigade Bistro in Paddington – highly recommended). I came straight from work, hence the black jersey, though my not-terribly-corporate office does Casual Friday, hence the short hemline and the sandals.

The Boyfriend took these pictures and insisted we use that most overlooked of props, the whipper snipper.

What? There's heaps of unkempt grass edges by the pool.

She works hard for the money... so hard for it honey...

Dress: Country Road (I had it shortened – it looked a bit like a nun’s outfit when I bought it)
Necklace: Dinosaur Designs
Watch: Nu + Nan
Bracelet: Mimco
Sandals: Nu + Nan
Nail polish: Molly by Bloom
Whipper snipper: Poulan PRO

Fat Admiration and Fat Acceptance

I’ve been thinking about writing a post on this for months, but was given a kick in the pants by a post on Big Fat Deal titled ‘Fat Fetishists on Tyra’.

First of all, we need to work out our definitions. There are very clear differences between fat admiration (a preference for fat people), fat fetishism (can only be aroused by fat), and feederism (actively wanting/making your partner fatter). People have used these terms interchangeably and they shouldn’t.

More than anything, my problem with the whole Tyra thing (that bastion of media integrity) is that those who are attracted to fat women are considered so odd, their preferences considered so bizarre, that they have a whole segment dedicated to them. Really, Tyra? REALLY? You wouldn’t base a segment on men who prefer blondes, so you’re revealing yourself to be incredibly judgemental by treating fat admiration as an ‘issue’ to be dissected.

Straight up: I have no problem whatsoever with fat admirers. I was introduced to the online fat admiration scene by a boy. At that time, my self-esteem wasn’t the best – I tolerated my body, but I certainly didn’t love it. I figured guys were attracted to me in spite of my body, not because of it. As taboo as this is to admit in the Fatosphere, it was a huuuuuuge revelation to find that people not only thought I was sexy, but preferred my fat self.

Don’t get me wrong – some guys on those websites are creeps. I’d get ridiculous messages that were obviously written with one hand. And I am not defined by how many people find me attactive. Having said that, realising that there were people out there who thought my body was perfection meant that I could finally let go of all the ‘my body isn’t good enough” bullshit that I had held onto for years.

I’m not saying that external validation is the only measure of worth. But I can’t ignore the fact that fat admiration was a significant part of my fat acceptance.

My boobs are outraged.

Recently, my tits grew. I’m not sure when exactly because, due to my deep deep hatred of bra shopping, I put up with spilling out of ill-fitting bras for months. When the last hooks on my bras threatened to snap off suddenly and violently, I decided to brave the hideousness of the department store lingerie section.

I’m quite pear shaped, so it was only with this recent booby growth that I made it into plus size bra territory (I’m now a AUS 16D, which I think equates to a US 38D). With my new back-to-cup ratio I have apparently made the transition into completely sexless bras.

Helllooooooo boys.

I don’t know about you, but it’s a wee bit hard to think “I break hearts for a living” when encased in this much beige microfibre.

Even the prettier, less practical bras – like this absurdly expensive one by Fayreform – subject my tits to an unnecessary amount of control.

HI. I'M STRAPPED IN.

My hatred for bra shopping has now increased tenfold.

What’s the deal? Who decided that bangers, once past a certain size, must have enforced sexlessness thrust upon them?! MY BOOBS ARE TOO FABULOUS FOR THIS SHIT.

I need your help, Fatosphere. I know there are many of you that have been dealing with this crap for many years and have worked out which brands flatter the girls and which try to hide them from the world completely. Where should I go? What should I buy?

What do you love about yourself?

Lilli at Frocks & Frou Frou, Sonya at No More Mumus and Natalie at Definatalie have started an online self-love trend, answering the question “What do you love about yourself?”

I think this is fabulous idea. 

I wasted my entire adolescence on low self-esteem, talking myself down and wishing that I looked nothing like me. I have had more than enough body hate bullshit for one lifetime. I am now rather arrogant and y’all should be too. Arrogance is a GOOD thing and, rather helpfully, it’s also really really fun!

What I love about myself:

  • I love my shamelessness. I’m outgoing and bawdy, I dance in public, and I wear loud clothing/accessories.
  • I love my skin. Thanks, Asian genes!
  • I love that I smile big, laugh easily, and that my laugh is a loud cackle.
  • I love my pot belly. Whenever my mum tells me to lose weight, I lift up my top and shake my belly at her. True story.
  • I love my butt. It’s big and proud and sticks out like a table.
  • I love my curly wurly hair.
  • I love that I am affectionate. I give awesome hugs.

Your turn! What do you love about yourself?

Don’t act like you’re not impressed

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If you look closely, you'll see the hole in the 'a' has been replaced by a tiny cupcake. Awesome.

Chickety check my new necklace!

It’s a custom made necklace by a lovely Kiwi girl called Kim Laurenson (always happy to support a fellow antipodean). She has an etsy store and a fantastic blog, both by the name of Cupcakes and Mace.

I am in love with this thing and can’t wait to wear it out. No, you cannot borrow it.

OoTD No. 2 – Sneaker Freaker

I’m getting the hang of this OoTD thing!

Since y’all reacted so well to my shoe collection in my last OoTD, I decided to wear my most fabulous pair of sneakers out:

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I need a haircut.

I wore this out yesterday. Mr Frances and I went to Saturday in Design; an annual trade event for Australia’s design sector, which takes place on alternate years in Sydney and Melbourne. It involves Australia’s best designer furniture, finishes, fixtures and lighting showrooms all over Sydney displaying their wares for architects, designers, students and members of the public. Mr Frances is an industrial designer, whereas I just go along for the free booze and canapes – Living Edge put on a particularly good spread, with Chandon wine, Little Creatures beer (I love their Bright Ale) and the most amazing Thai food from longrain.

It’s our anniversary today – 5 years! – so Mr Frances and I also went out to dinner at Doma Bohemian Beer Cafe afterwards. Doma serves Czech/Slovak food (read: meat and stodge) and have a great range of Czech, German and Belgian beers – I recommend the schnitzel (chicken or pork, both were fantastic), the huge apple strudel and the Schöfferhofer Hefeweizen (a German cloudy wheat beer). Do not go there on anything more than an empty stomach; the Czechs will break you with their serving sizes.

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These came with white laces, but I changed 'em for some blue ones I had lying around. Because they weren't colourful enough already.

I’d never worn these sneakers out before and, after walking around in them all day, I’ve realised that they’re not the most comfortable kicks in the world. All those multicoloured panels are separate layers of leather and they have plastic around some of the eyelets, making them extremely stiff. Lucky they look so good, or else I’d never wear them again.

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You can't tell in this photo, but this ring has been polished to a mirror finish. Perfect for someone as vain as me.

Tshirt (that is on the brink of being too small) : Huffer
Straight leg jeans : Just Jeans
Sneakers : Nike Air Tech Challenge Hybrid from Espionage
Lego necklace : O.A.W on etsy
Titanium ring : titaniumknights on etsy

My Very First OoTD

I’m jumping on the Outfit of the Day (OoTD) bandwagon! Hopefully this post will be the first of many (read: hopefully I can be arsed to keep this up).

Before anything else, I think I should introduce you to my style to give you a bit of context or something. My style has two very distinct and completely separate settings: casual and work.

Casual Frances is a mix of street, 80s and hip hop. I live in my denim (dark rinse jeans and shorts) and I wear a lot of bright men’s graphic tees; most of which get turned into singlets by my alterationist. I never ever wear heels; the most feminine my shoes get are ballet flats. What I love more than anything is my ever-growing collection of kicks:

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My babies!

Work Frances is restricted by the sartorial expectations of the public sector (yep, I’m a government monkey). Most days I’m wearing some kind of black jersey dress and I keep things interesting with accessories: brightly coloured tights, kitsch brooches and chunky colourful resin jewellery.

Both Casual and Work Frances like to wear things that are bright, kitsch and eye-catching because both are great big show ponies who like attention. Both are no good at dressing for winter.

It’s surprisingly difficult putting my style into words; hopefully it will all emerge through my OoTDs.

Speaking of, here is what I wore to my mate’s farewell last weekend:

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Nope, I've no idea what I'm doing with that left elbow either.

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Oversized tshirt : Sportsgirl
Yellow bra (which is super duper visible because of the flash on my camera) : Mossimo
Leggings : Beth Ditto at Evans
Ballet flats : Witchery
Resin bangle : Dinosaur Designs – my favourite accessories brand of all time
Robot necklace : Electric Monkeys, Bondi Beach

A Good Week for Me and My Mailbox

Lord, how I love online shopping.

A couple of weeks ago, I discovered that I’d paid my last credit card bill twice, so I had an extra few hundred dollars to spend frivolously. And spend frivolously I did! This week I’ve been coming home to discover happy little packages waiting for me in my mailbox.

First came this:

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The Boys #32 by Garth Ennis and Darrick Robertson

The Boys is one of my faaaaavourite comic books. It’s about time y’all found out that I am a bit of a comic book nerd. Other favourites of mine include The Punisher, Sin City, Preacher and Hitman.

A couple of days later, the postie brought me this:

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Health at Every Size by Linda Bacon

This was more of an educational purchase than something fun. I figure if I’m going to do this fat blogging thing I have to know what I’m talking about. That said, I am really looking forward to reading this.

Finally, these babies turned up yesterday:

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Happy Frances is happy

My Beth Ditto leggings were a present from me to me. As you can see, I am chuffed to bits!

As Deena mentioned in her post, these are brilliant leggings. They have been cut and sewn like a pair of pants, so they actually fit my thighs and arse (o, happy day!). The huge double-layered waistband almost comes up to my boobs, eliminating the severe muffin-top I usually get from leggings and tights. They’re also spectacularly garish which is right up my alley. I bought a size 18 and they fit perfectly.

Now I just have to find the right mini-dress or tunic to wear with them. A mate of mine is abandoning me for European adventures and is having a farewell party this Saturday (hi Liam!). Methinks it will be the perfect opportunity to bust these babies out in public.

My credit card is still in credit so I think I’m due for another order from We Love Colors

I eat, therefore I’m fat

The Fatosphere and various fat communities like to point out how active they are, how balanced their diet is, how they were fat children that grew into fat adults and their corpulent physique is not something they can control or change even if they wanted to. I understand why this is, and I’ve no doubt that for many people this is the case.

But I am not one of those people. I am fat because I eat too much.

I’ve never been small person; I think I was at my thinnest when I was around 17 and 65kg/140 pounds. But I know that if I were to exercise a bit more and eat a bit less, it’s probable that I could lose around 10kg and a dress size.

But I don’t want to do that. I love to eat.

For me, eating is an almost hedonistic experience. When I eat something truly amazing, like a beautiful cut of steak or a simple margherita pizza, my face beams. I dance unconsciously in my chair (my boyfriend calls it my ‘happy food dance’). And I like to eat a lot, because the feeling and look of fullness is so pleasant.

I am not fat because I eat ‘junk’; I don’t eat much processed food, not because it’s unhealthy, but because it tastes like crap and makes me feel gross. In fact, my body craves all manner of things: pesto pasta, opor ayam, wholemeal tuna sandwiches, pho, wood-fired pizza, rare steak and homemade chips, soft boiled eggs and toast soldiers, cake, porridge and stewed fruit, roast chicken, laksa, unadon, absolutely anything covered in garlic… I end up eating a reasonably balanced diet, just a lot of it.

While my growing belly is a consequence of my over-eating, it’s a happy one. I love being fat, and not in a ‘This is what I’m stuck with so I may as well love it’ sort of way. I genuinely think I look better now than when I was 30kg lighter. I’m certainly a helluva lot happier.

I wanted to make this all very clear because so far I have not found anyone in the Fatosphere that I relate to on this matter. Of course I’ve found people who enjoy food, but none who publicly love it as much as I do and none who identify it as a cause of their fatness. I am sure I am not the only one. I wanted to make this clear because I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.

When the media is full of reports that FAT IS UNHEALTHY AND YOU WILL DIIIIIEEE, it’s natural for fatties respond with statistics proving that being obese does not automatically equate to unhealthiness and that the active fatty will outlive the inactive skinny. And that’s all very good; we should not allow misinformation to parade around as fact. But what I want to stress is that I am not ashamed for being one of the inactive fatties.

I do some exercise; I go to dance class and I swim at the beach in the summer. On the other hand, I also wish the whole world sloped downhill so I’d never have to walk up another incline again.

My point, in a roundabout way, is that we should not have to prove ourselves to be one of the ‘good’ fatties in order to be seen as people. We should not have to divulge our eating and exercise habits to family/friends/strangers/journalists in order to justify our fatness. Whether we happily overeat or happily run marathons, we all deserve respect.

Opening Act

Hello and welcome to Corpulent! *insert fanfare*

If you’ve followed me over here from my tumblr, thank you. I hope you like my words as much as you like my pictures.

I started this blog because my entry-level job is quickly turning my brain into mush and, being an Arts grad, I desperately miss writing.

So the First Rule of writing to to write what you know. My name is Frances. I am 23 years old, I am in love with food, my clothes are plus size, I am 1.72m tall and I weigh 95kg (approx. 5′8″ and 210 pounds, for those not down with the metric system) which classifies me as obese according to BMI. I eat, I jiggle and I break pants. In line with the First Rule, I’ve created a fat blog.

I’m not quite sure what form this blog will take as yet and it’s probable it will end up being a mix of everything: some fat ranting, love letters to food, a dash of plus size fashion,  some politics and loads of photos of the plus sized women I love. Basically, whatever captures my flittish attention.

You stay classy, Fatosphere.


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