Tag: body acceptance

skeletalroses:

So this is a totally useless rant, but as a skinny girl, I’m getting extra, extra tired of fat-shaming.

I work for a corsetier at a Renaissance Faire. We sell corsets. Not flimsy bullshit costume corsets; like real, durable, waist-training corsets. Today a woman came in with her boyfriend, so I helped her pick out a corset and try it on. While her boyfriend—who was decidedly enthused about the whole corset thing—sat watching me lace her in, he told me, grinning, “Of all the good jobs at the Renaissance Faire, I think you have the best.”

I shrugged in agreement. “I touch butts and reach down cleavage all day; I mean…” Because we like to be a bit rakish at the Faire, and, y’know, it’s true. Tying people into corsets pretty much invariably requires getting handsy.

The couple laughed at that, and the boyfriend said, “That’s the job I would want!” But then he chuckled again and said, offhand, “Or maybe not; while we were looking at the racks, there were some pretty big sizes on there!”

Our sizes are all done in inches, and the biggest we make is a 46. And you’d better believe our large sizes sell. For a second I wasn’t sure what to say to the guy’s comment, but I answered him casually. “We get a lot of beautiful big ladies in here.” Because we do. “We make corsets for real women, not Barbie dolls,” I added. Wasn’t trying to be smart, just kind of tossed it out there because that’s the line we like to use when people ask about larger sizes, and because, again, we do.

The boyfriend went quiet at that; I didn’t think anything of it, I just kept on lacing. A moment later, he said, a little awkwardly (but sincerely enough), “Didn’t mean to be offensive.”

I quickly smiled and brushed it off, said he wasn’t, said I was just saying. (Don’t want to make the customers uncomfortable, you know?) And that was the end of it. His comment had rubbed me the wrong way, but it wasn’t a big deal. Now, I wear a 20-inch corset. I’m a few cup sizes short of being one of the Barbie dolls. Like his girlfriend, I’m one of the “hot chicks”; he doesn’t have to worry about offending me by implying that I wouldn’t be fun to poke and pull at.

Honestly though, of all the people I fit sexy technically-undergarments to in a day, fat girls are maybe my favorite people to lace up. Because they are just so damn happy that we have stuff that fits them. They are so damn happy that the corsets we make in their sizes are all the same pretty, shiny colors and cool flower/dragon/skull/etc. prints that the smaller corsets are, not ugly beige and boring “granny” colors. They are so goddamn happy that at least one (of several on the grounds) corset shop carries things that they can wear, that they actually want to wear, and that they look fucking awesome in. This is only my second season working, and we’ve fit 60+ inch waists and double-K busts. The only people we’ve ever had to tell sorry, we don’t have anything that fits them, are twelve-year-old kids.

It’s half-wonderful, half-heartbreaking how excited those women get. Women who say with sad smiles, when we ask if they want to get fitted, “Oh, no, you don’t have anything that fits me,” and then are stunned when we’re 300% confident that yes we do, and we have options. Women who can’t stop smiling and looking at themselves in the mirror after we’ve got them laced in.

I had a lady last week whose waist I measured (cinching the tape tight, as per procedure) at 41 inches—honestly not all that big. So she picked out a 41-inch corset to try on. I could tell halfway through getting her laced that it was going to be a bit big for her, so I mentioned it and said she might do better to try a smaller size. She started crying on the spot. She was so overwhelmed; she couldn’t believe someone had just told her that a 41 was too big. She told me about how hard clothes shopping was for her, how her mother would tell her she needed an XXXL instead of an XXL, how she had recently lost weight but still couldn’t wear certain colors because they didn’t fit or she wasn’t confident enough.

She did end up getting her corset, and after I checked her out she asked if she could give me a hug, so we ended up standing there hugging each other for a minute. While we did, I told her, “Do not ever let anyone tell you any bullshit. You are gorgeous.” She said, “I have a new boyfriend and he keeps telling me that.” I told her he was right, and to just keep telling herself she’s gorgeous; it was okay if she didn’t always believe it, but to keep telling herself anyway. (That’s how I talked myself through shit when I had bad anxiety.)

We all know fat-shaming is bad. The stupidity, fatphobia, and misogyny of it has pissed me off since I first became aware of it. But working with clothing, especially as figure-hugging and precise as corsets, has given me a new perspective on it—how much it affects people and just how shitty it is. Like, what does it say that I had a grown, only average-big woman crying into my shoulder because she was so overjoyed not to be the uppermost extremity of what a manufacturer can clothe?

My job rocks and it’s really rewarding, but sometimes it highlights some of the ugliest shit about society. I’m so glad I work at a shop that’s not bullshit about body types and operates with more people in mind than just scrawny white chicks like me. The fat women I work with are a ton of fun to lace up, and they’re so much more than their size—they’re cool, they’re smart, they’re funny, they’re sweet, they’re great to talk to, and yes, they’re hot. I’m so damn done with them getting short-changed and shamed by petty fucks who refuse to make them nice clothes, who refuse to even try to work for them, who refuse to consider them pretty. This whole rant was useless and won’t get read, but I had to vent because it’s been driving me nuts.

So actually, screw you, random dude. Fat girls are the highlight of my job.

My partner and I went to Sexpo Sydney about eighteen months back, and both got fitted for corsets. My partner was in her chair at the time, and the woman was so excited to fit us, especially to fit her so that she’d be comfortable sitting AND standing. We’re both plus sized (at the time, I was borderline, but I have a big ribcage so I’m ALWAYS an Australian 16 regardless of my weight) and we could try on most of what she had on the racks. That’s at a convention, not at her store, which was all the way down in Melbourne. We both walked away with corsets, having not even known that she could fit us at all when we walked into her booth, because she was passionate about her job and really excited to fit us, personally. She made us feel like a million bucks. TL; DR, corset fitters who go out of their way to accomodate people of all sizes and shapes are awesome.

So, check out Corset Wonderland. They have a comprehensive online store, but if you get a chance to get fitted by them, do. They have the details for contacting them on the website. 🙂

neurowonderful:

This photoset is dedicated to the people who have been sending me anonymous asks lately about how cute I am, about how nice my makeup looks in my videos, and about how they feel less-sparkly in comparison. The first two things are really nice to hear and I always appreciate sweet messages, but the last thing is sad to hear, especially from fellow chronically ill people and people with sensory issues.

These no-makeup selfies were all taken within the last twelve months. It’s important to keep in mind that I spend about an hour doing my makeup before filming my Ask an Autistic episodes, so the internet is really only ever seeing the prettiest, least-tired/sick looking version of myself. It’s the same way for lots of youtubers.

Most often I live in pyjamas, Marvin’s old t-shirts, and oversized sweatshirts, with messy hair and without a stitch of makeup to conceal the dark circles under my eyes or lengthen my eyelashes. And even in these selfies I am smiling and posed in a flattering way, so if we were speaking in person right now, I would look even farther from my appearance in my videos.

I am Amythest whether I am wearing makeup or not. Both versions are the “real me”, and I’m generally okay with how I look either way, but my youtube self is carefully crafted to be very feminine and fall in line with societal standards of beauty. I don’t look like that even three days out of the week. Please don’t compare yourself (or what kind of hygiene/beauty regime you can manage) to other people, especially not me. It’s so important to love yourself, or at least not be tearing yourself down. The world will do enough of that for us.

You are all super and great and cute, and I love you!

silentauroriamthereal:

nofreedomlove:

image

image

image

imageimage

image

image

image

Source

“Image Credit: Carol Rossetti

When Brazilian graphic designer Carol Rossetti began posting colorful illustrations of women and their stories to Facebook, she had no idea how popular they would become. 

Thousands of shares throughout the world later, the appeal of Rosetti’s work is clear. Much like the street art phenomenon Stop Telling Women To Smile, Rossetti’s empowering images are the kind you want to post on every street corner, as both a reminder and affirmation of women’s bodily autonomy. 

"It has always bothered me, the world’s attempts to control women’s bodies, behavior and identities,” Rossetti told Mic via email. “It’s a kind of oppression so deeply entangled in our culture that most people don’t even see it’s there, and how cruel it can be.”

Rossetti’s illustrations touch upon an impressive range of intersectional topics, including LGBTQ identity, body image, ageism, racism, sexism and ableism. Some characters are based on the experiences of friends or her own life, while others draw inspiration from the stories many women have shared across the Internet. 

“I see those situations I portray every day,” she wrote. “I lived some of them myself.”

Despite quickly garnering thousands of enthusiastic comments and shares on Facebook, the project started as something personal — so personal, in fact, that Rossetti is still figuring out what to call it. For now, the images reside in albums simply titled “WOMEN in english!“ or ”Mujeres en español!“ which is fitting: Rossetti’s illustrations encompass a vast set of experiences that together create a powerful picture of both women’s identity and oppression.

One of the most interesting aspects of the project is the way it has struck such a global chord. Rossetti originally wrote the text of the illustrations in Portuguese, and then worked with an Australian woman to translate them to English. A group of Israeli feminists also took it upon themselves to create versions of the illustrations in Hebrew. Now, more people have reached out to Rossetti through Facebook and offered to translate her work into even more languages. Next on the docket? Spanish, Russian, German and Lithuanian.

It’s an inspiring show of global solidarity, but the message of Rossetti’s art is clear in any language. Above all, her images celebrate being true to oneself, respecting others and questioning what society tells us is acceptable or beautiful.

"I can’t change the world by myself,” Rossetti said. “But I’d love to know that my work made people review their privileges and be more open to understanding and respecting one another.””

From the site: All images courtesy Carol Rossetti and used with permission. You can find more illustrations, as well as more languages, on her Facebook page.

Oooh. I reblogged a partial version of this recently but I didn’t know how many more there were! I LOVE these!

evmlove:

damecatoe:

“By far, one of the best scenes in the book is where Kaling writes about the photo shoot she and Office co-star Ellie Kemper did for People’s Most Beautiful issue. When the stylist brought a trailer full of size zero gowns, Kaling found herself crying in the children’s bathroom of the public school where the photo shoot was happening. In the bathroom stall, she discovered a smear of what looked like excrement and a child’s graffiti: “This school is bulls–t!” which made her a) laugh and b) demand that the stylist alter one of the gowns to fit her. In the end photo, she’s smiling in a gorgeous fuchsia dress that the stylist had to rip down the back and alter with canvas. Looking at beautiful Kaling, though, you’d never know. It’s a sweet moment of chubby girl victory.” (via afterellen)

This is the story that truly made her my hero.