Lush Christmas Product Review

As a follow up to my total humblebrag post about attending the Lush Sydney Blogger Event, I wanted to go through and give you all a good thorough look at the enormous array of goodies we were given in the loot bag handed out at this event.

First up are the glorious little bundle of bath bombs we were given - Shoot For The Stars, Bombardino, Secret Santa, and (technically a bubble bar) Candy Mountain.

They're still in their bags for this group shot because my lightbox has a black velvet backdrop at the moment
and I was NOT interested in trying to clean it after putting bath bombs on it.

Taking the Low Road - Jubly-Umph Originals

The division between low brow and high brow art has always fascinated me. Way back in the way back times I was dating a boy who was finishing his degree in Fine Art, and we would have some enormous "discussions"about what did and did not qualify as art. At the time, I was pretty disinterested in modern art as a whole. I much preferred the old masters section of the gallery, and could spend hours ogling the delicate brushstrokes, and incredible way the light is captured in a Rembrandt.

Rembrandt, Self Portrait 1640

I turned my nose up at things like installation artworks and abstracts. I didn't consider these things "serious" or "proper"art, and my boyfriend furiously disagreed. He was very fond of the hard-edge abstractionist school of art, which looks to an untrained eye such as myself to be just shapes. Very nicely done, crisp shapes, but just shapes. Sometimes lines. My boyfriend was big into lines in his own work.

Karl Benjamin, Orange, Red, Umber

Conscientious Objector In The Weight Wars

I was actually tossing this topic around in my head for some time, trying to decide if I had anything to say that hadn't already been said. There is almost as many words out there on women's weight and associated issues as there are actual women, and I wasn't sure that my point of view was something that really needed to be added. However, when I put the word out on Twitter and Facebook that I was looking for input, the response was pretty overwhelming - which at the very least convinced me this is something that DOES actually need to be written. I've tried to wrestle as much of it into a post as possible, but it's a huge subject to try and condense down. I described writing this as being like wrestling with a kraken made of feels, and now it's done, I totally stand by that. But really, the core of what I'm trying to say is simply this; how about we women try being kinder to each other about our bodies, and save the vitriol for the institutions that actually contribute to making our lives harder?

Cosmetic Marketing and the BFF Style

I thought my post on the Dove Beauty Sketches ad was so late to the party that it might be the last one - but apparently the debate continues to rage. Well, actually, calling it a debate seems a bit disingenuous. The vast majority of the articles I've read have decried it as being exclusionary, too focused on beauty as the core of a woman's self worth, and being sneaky wolfish marketing dressed up in "activist" sheep's clothing. I'm not interested in arguing the moral value of marketing companies attempting to appeal to our self esteem in order to sell products - although you should feel free to do so in the comments if you like. However, I do find the psychology of this type of "friendship" marketing endlessly fascinating, and I have a great example of this kind of marketing done horribly wrong to share with you today.

Loyalty based, "friendship" style marketing is at the core of what Dove is attempting with their Natural Beauty campaigns. They're trying to convince us they're not a soulless corporation that only wants to sell lotions - they're our friends. * They want us to feel good about ourselves (and buy their soap), they want us to be happy and successful (and buy their soap), just like our real friends. They tell us we really are beautiful, no matter what we tell ourselves, just like our real friends. And in turn, they hope we will reward the company like we do our real friends - with our loyalty and commitment. They hope that we will forgive their mistakes and support their endeavours, just like we would a real friend. And the thing is, regardless of whether it's morally right or wrong, this type of marketing isn't going anywhere because it works like WHOA.

Loyal customers bring in tons of bags just like this.

I Wish It Was Supanova Every Day - Part 2

Welcome to the second part of my Supanova Melbourne adventure!

The second day I decided I was over the cape, and more importantly, over the height of the heels on my boots. I really have to find something more wearable for the Sydney event! So I went "incognito", and spent most of the day in panels, shopping, and once again, stalking cosplayers.

For some reason I can never seem to be all of The Boy's head in joint selfies.
I mean, he has a big head, but this is ridiculous.

I Wish It Was Supanova Every Day - Day 1

If you don't want to hear about my recent trip to Supanova Pop Culture Expo in Melbourne, then you should probably go entertain yourself elsewhere for the next couple of days because I had SO MUCH FUN and I have SO MUCH TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT!!

Quick background info for those who either haven't been to Supanova, or aren't Australian and therefore have never heard of our tiny little backwater convention. Supanova is held once a year in Perth, Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, and the Gold Coast, and they usually spread these events out into two "tours" - one around April, one around June. Different guests go to different events, which is pretty neat because it means over the course of the tour they can get a lot of different guests, and guests don't have to block out half a year to attend. However, it alsp means that inevitably all the guests I really reaally desperately want to see end up going to the events in cities other than the one I live in, and every other year I've just sucked it up. But this year I said NO MORE. I have a decent job, I can afford the ridiculously cheap airfares to Melbourne, and best of all I have a little posse of internet acquaintances who are willing to let me crash on their floor. This year The Boy and I decided to Do This Thing. I got together a classic Catwoman outfit, as pictured here, and The Boy made himself a kick ass Riddler costume, based off the Arkham City game.

We arrived in Melbourne absolutely exhausted from staying up all the night before sewing costumes, which seems kind of like a prerequisite for any cosplay attempt. We were put up by some lovely friends of The Boy, who I technically had only previously known online, who live in a fantastic share house in what the taxi driver warned us was a "bad" suburb.

My kind of place

Once we got there, we more or less passed out, and then it was time to get into costume and on to Supanova.

Fairy Princess Awareness Day

You might recall from my persistent spamming all over social media that I was taking part in Dare to Wear Day this year, in aid of an Australian charity called Fitted For Work. Fitted For Work aim to hep disadvantaged women back into the workforce by supplying them with appropriate interview clothes, as well as help building their confidence and interview skills.

I think this sort of work is really important - the interview process is often the most challenging thing about getting a job, far more so than keeping the job if you're offered the chance. If you're at a point in your life where you're out of practice answering the ridiculous arbitrary questions that recruiters throw at you, the last thing you need is to feel like you're dressed like shit. A nice skirt suit really can make the difference between answering confidently and getting the job, and mumbling into your chest and being immediately dismissed regardless of how skilled you actually are. The women Fitted For Work work see also often have big gaps in their resume from time in prison, or raising a family, or all the other things that get in the way of a career, and I really feel for people in that sort of situation. My own work history hasn't exactly been a smooth path from Point A to Point B - no matter how you spin it, a three year break from the workforce because I had a mental breakdown so severe I couldn't leave the house never looks good on a resume. Gaps in your resume shouldn't be an automatic disqualification from the interview process, but unfortunately, they often are. So if you're out of practice, out of decent outfits, and have a gap in your resume, the odds are definitely stacked against you when you're going up for a job. Charities like Fitted For Work try to tilt the odds a bit more in the interviewee's favour.

Dare To Wear Day is held once a year, and works in a similar way to World's Greatest Shave  in that people sponsor you to do something challenging. In this case, I only had to wear something ridiculous to work for one day, so I decided to go as a Fairy Princess. I figure any excuse to wear a tiara is a good enough excuse.

Since some of you lovely people who helped out by donating, I promised pictures of my femmetacular outfit - so without further ado, here is what I wore to work on Friday. This was the Fanciest of all Fancy Fridays.

I would be totally lying if I said this didn't get pretty challenging to go the whole day in. While it was great fun dressing up, and I do love floofy skirts, I'm also the kind of person who has a very fine emotional line between enough attention and TOO MUCH attention, and this outfit definitely pushed the amount of attention I got firmly into the TOO MUCH category. I had a bit of a freak out about three quarters of the way through the day and tried to figure out a way to wriggle out of it, but then a couple of new donations came through, and I realised I would be letting people down if I let my self consciousness get the better of me. 

I'm sure you're all STUNNED to hear doing my nails so sparkly they could be seen from space was my favourite part of the whole outfit. This is Alanna Renee Mardi, with a layer of Femme Fatale Ebon Roses over the top, with a smattering of Hello Kitty holographic glitter over the top for good measure. This manicure was shiny enough that it was legitimately distracting.

I also took the opportunity to really go nuts with my Femme Fatale loose eyeshadows. If you follow me on Instagram, you'll know I've been obsessed with these things since a wise Twitter follower gave me the marvelous advice to use Napoleon Perdis Cake Eyeliner Sealer to keep them in place. I'll be doing up a How To on this at a future date, once I'm a little more confident.

I made it through the whole work day, and even heading out into the city for lunch with minimal panic! When my boy came to pick me  up from work I was so pleased with myself we stopped for an impromptu photoshoot in the park.

But the most exciting part of the whole day was realising the donations had hit $500 - a completely arbitrary target I had set up when I initially hoped some of my workmates would join me. I didn't think I had a chance in hell of reaching it by myself, so I just want to say a great big THANK YOU to each and every one of you who donated. And don't worry, I don't do charity things often, so it will probably be a while before I'm hassling you again!

More Than Meets The Eye

I spent most of my twenties wondering what the big deal about feminism was – the people I associated with all agreed with it's basic principles so firmly that even discussing it felt like a waste of time. I felt like I had plenty of power – but looking back there were so many things that I took for granted as just part of being a woman. If I was out in the city by myself late at night, I would wear spiked collars and big boots, just in case. When a taxi driver refused to let me out of his cab until I gave him my phone number, I laughed it off as just a weird thing that happened. When my partners pushed the boundaries of my consent, I assumed it was my fault for leading them on, and just something that happened to women. But it was working reception in the sex industry that showed me what it's like to have tangible, real power, and now I've left the industry, I don't know how to deal without it.

Because of the social circles I was hanging out in at the time, when I was once again out of a job and someone suggested I try reception at a massage parlor, it didn't seem like a big deal – just another job. I could answer a phone, and take money. Why not? There was no stigma attached to the industry in my little bubble. A bunch of people I knew were either current or former sex workers in various capacities, and others had done the reception thing. I was intrigued by the idea of getting a glimpse into such a “secret” side of my city. I'm the kind of person that can't help peering into open windows when I'm out walking at night, so the idea of being PAID to peer into people's private lives was too good to pass up. While I thought I knew what I was getting in to, I would be lying if I said there weren't challenging moments. I remember the first time I sent a girl upstairs with a client, and the horrible confusion that gripped me about whether I was doing the right thing or not. I remember having to tell a client to put his flaccid cock away THREE times while I was trying to talk to him, because apparently he couldn't listen without one hand on it. I remember going into the introduction room to fill up the tissues, and discovering someone had vomited into a glass bowl of mints and then put the lid back on. I remember the first time I put my hand in a puddle of a strangers cold semen while doing the laundry, and how hard I scrubbed down my entire arm afterwards. But most of all, I remember the feeling of power.

The Teenage Guide To Popularity

Popularity has been the Holy Grail of teenagers everywhere for as long as there have been teenagers. While we like to think the world has moved on socially (at least a little bit) since the time of bobby socks and poodle skirts for all, I personally think that when it comes to social interaction teenagers are being sold the same garbage they were 70 years ago. It can more or less be summarised like so;

Above all, dress “nicely” and be visually appealing.
Be confident, but don’t draw attention to yourself.
Be nice, be pleasant, all the time. Boys don't like "moody" girls.
Never, never do anything anyone could interpret as slutty or scandalous.

Any of this sound familiar? I’d be shocked if you’d never heard any of this advice before.

I want to use this topic to introduce you to one of my favourite underrated sites on the net - The Prelinger Archives – there is hours and hours of fascinating (largely hilarious) footage to be found within it’s poorly coded shell. It’s part of the broader Internet Archive, a project that is attempting to archive as much media as possible in one location, presumably for future generations. The Prelinger Archives are specifically “educational” films that date from the early 30’s to the early 70’s, and cover an astonishing variety of topics. There is one that shows an actual unsimulated birth that I am particularly fond of (it’s called “Sudden Birth!” and the birth sure is sudden) but the one I want to talk about today is simply titled. “Are You Popular?” Because all the material on the Prelinger Archives is public domain (or creative commons licensed) a lot of the videos have been copied over to YouTube and the likes. However I'm going to link you to the original source because I think it's an awesome project. Before we go on with our discussion of teenage popularity through the ages, take five minutes or so to sit down and let this gem soak right in.

I Don't Want To Be Stuck In The Fat Corner

I started this blog as a personal challenge to myself – I wanted to try things simply because they weren’t “me”, and talk about things I had previously felt I should keep quiet about. I guessed that committing to sharing these things with a bunch of strangers on the internet was the best motivation for me, and so far, it’s going great. I’ve tried a lot of new things, gotten involved in communities I never knew existed, and I’ve shared a LOT with you guys. There are long posts about how othered I used to feel by women who understood makeup and fashion, and how I still do to a certain extent. I’ve talked about my internal struggles when I realised I actually LIKED makeup and fashion, and how that changed my perception of my own identity. I’ve shared pictures of my self harm scars, for goodness sake.

But the thing that scared me most, that was most challenging to share, were pictures in which you can see the full extent of my fat.

Betcha Wish You Could Op Shop Like Me - Part 3

Welcome to the final (I promise) installment of my guide to Effective Op Shopping. If you missed the other two installments, they are here and here. And now, on to my very last two bits of advice.

4. Pick your Target 

Thrift shopping is a game hunt and as with any other kind of hunt, you have to know where your game is likely to be found. Not all thrift stores are equal – ones in suburbs with a high population of people who drink half caf soy lattes and ride fixies are likely to be picked clean. But if you venture out into suburbs where the more well-to-do congregate, you can find some real gold. See, the suburban yuppies like to donate clothes, because it’s an easy, convenient way to be charitable. But they would never be caught dead wearing second hand clothes, and they also tend to be pretty keen on keeping the poorer people who WOULD wear second hand clothes away as much as possible. Which leaves their second hand stores chock full of barely worn goodies, free for the taking. This dress was actually from a local store in my suburb because I haven't ventured much further than my latte sipping suburb for a while, but it's a good example of what you can find if you're willing to hit the more upper crust areas. It's City Chic, a high end plus size label, and new this dress would have cost upwards of $200. When I got it, there were no labels, but no signs of wear either so I would guess someone wore it once and then got rid of it.

Ha! Look at that fierce face I'm pulling.

Betcha Wish You Could Op Shop Like Me - Part 2

Welcome back! So last time I had a good long talk about the Why of op shopping (or thrifting). Now I'm going to share with you my golden rules of How To Op Shop Effectively, and build an awesome wardrobe for a surprisingly small amount of money. 

1. Know What You Want

Unfortunately, if what you want is the latest fashions for bargain prices, I have no advice for you. I don’t tend to follow fashion, and have instead developed a wardrobe of things that look good on me, and will always look good on me. In order to get this stable of staples, I did a lot of trying things on, and made a lot of mistakes. But now, I can pick up any article of clothing and be able to more or less visualise how it will look on me. Figure out what looks good on you, so you can spot it in a crowded rack bursting with beaded Christmas sweaters. The sequins can be very distracting! And that’s before we get to the pushy little old ladies.

For all your Doris Day At Mardi Gras needs

Betcha Wish That You Could Op Shop Like Me - Part 1

Sometimes it feels like I've been op-shopping as long as I've been wearing clothes. A brief note of clarification for any American viewers I happen to have picked up - when I say "op shop", I mean what you would call "thrift store." So just substitute it in your head while you read. When people ask where I got whatever I'm wearing, the answer is "second hand" at least seven times out of ten. But when I tell people where I got things, they always look at me amazed, as if I have some great gift to be able to find decent things where they apparently have never been able to. I am going to admit something to y'all - it's not a gift. It's just practice. 

Image courtesy of windyfm

Fat Money $pends

Just a little update today - I've been busy putting together a bunch of upcoming articles for other sites, which is still an idea I find so entertaining. I started this blog because I didn't think anyone else would publish my opinions, but it just keeps happening! Hilarious.

Image courtesy of Domino Dollhouse

Today's link is an opinion piece I bashed out with my ranty pants on for The Closet Feminist, who are a fantastic Canadian feminist fashion blog. I really dig what they're doing, and this article has been quite popular so far, so I'd be interested to hear what y'all think. It's about trying to shop in brick and mortar stores when you have a plus sized body, and how it's incredibly frustrating - Fat Money $pends

Smells Like Community

There are certain products that somehow create the magic alchemy it takes to give rise to a devoted, caring, and thriving community around them. Nail polish in general is one such community, and the brand devotees within that genre. Anyone who has run into a Lush addict will back me up that they are an absolutely devoted community as well. But today, I want to talk about a product that has created one of the most intricate, tight knit product oriented communities I know - BPAL, that is Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfume oils. 

I have a fairly keen sense of smell, which is actually pretty unusual considering I'm a smoker and have a depressive disorder, both of which are supposed to dull your sense of smell. Not only am I good at telling smells apart, certain smells evoke really powerful emotional associations for me. CK One reminds me of an ex of mine who was obsessed with it, so much so that if someone walks past in the street wearing it, I instinctively look for him. Since I stopped being able to eat normal bread and other pastries, the smell of baked goods gets me so pumped in the desire parts I often find it hard to walk past bakeries without pressing my face to the glass like a Dickensian orphan. I discovered an ancient tube of hair gel in a box I hadn't unpacked in about six moves, and as soon as I caught a whiff of that particular gel I remembered exactly how it felt to be 22, heading out to the local goth club, because that was the last time I'd used it. I have such a strong emotional connection with my boyfriend's smell that I actually find myself less attracted to him if he wears the "wrong"deodorant - it distracts me so much I can't concentrate on making out with him. TL:DR, smell is a big deal to me.