Make of this what you will

(Source: idreamofrainydays)

These are the mental images I get every time I hear these stupid lyrics.

I know, I know- I’m a bad person.

In the spring of my 18th year, love was the roast beef rolls he made me for dinner before our late classes. Love used to be the focaccias we had in the cosy, dimly lit cafe in the hipster end of town. His fingers were rough from his beloved nylon strings, and he always smelt of coffee and comfort. Love was a pasta bake we had on that warm, vodka-and-orange afternoon. We sat on the worn out carpet, watching how the sun filtered in through the wooden blinds, making our skin glow. Love was that one last rum and coke before we fell together and then fell apart. 

Love now is bacon at noon, his naked torso shying away from the spitting pan. Though we sometimes drive through the city at night eating McDonald’s in his car, I cannot let his tastebuds be. Gone are the days I spent in musky cafes, for I am on a mission to teach him how to appreciate more than just spaghetti bolognese and toast. Love is aiyu jelly and deep-fried sushi by the Brisbane river. He is young and alive and idealistic and unrealistic, but I want to live his dreams even though I don’t believe in them. I no longer pretend to be a grownup who drinks coffee as if it isn’t bitter; we buy bubble tea and drink it on the beach instead. It’s sugary and light, and I don’t have to worry about burning my tongue.

For our anniversary, he gives me a basket filled with chocolate Yan Yan sticks, green tea Pocky and tinned potatoes. I have taught him well.

Okay, everyone, can we please take some time to talk about the term “real woman”? I’ve been hearing this term thrown around a fair bit in recent years, and I simply don’t think it’s appropriate. Let me explain:

We’ve moved into an era where there are various groups advocating “healthy” looking models and criticising the media for its unrealistic representations of “attractive” bodies. More and more, it seems that the size zero model is being phased out for a slightly fleshier model, with some publishers even going so far as to Photoshop fat onto a slightly bony woman. As far as I’m concerned, that’s great- perhaps this is what we need to help persuade young women that “attractive” does not equal “anorexia nervosa”. Perhaps this will help decrease the number of girls with body image problems and self-esteem issues, and encourage young women to lead healthy lifestyles, instead of worrying about how thin their waist is, or big their butt looks. But why did we have to bring the term “real women” into it?

It’s as if the media has realised its mistake and are now trying to make amends by pinning the “real woman” label onto every curvy, size 12+ model shown in the media. A “real woman”, according to the media, is apparently all soft edges and full curves. Search the term in Google images, and this is the type of picture you’ll get:

This particular picture is from Dove’s “Real Women” campaign. If you scroll through the results, you’ll see that the women in most of the images that show up look quite similar to this.

So why am I so concerned about it?

Personally, I don’t find endorsing a bigger body type by labelling it as “real” really helps the body image dilemma. Every woman is shaped differently, and to say that only these women are “real” is to deny the femininity of those who aren’t. I don’t feel this is very fair. Are skinny size zero models not real women too?

Of course, I am only so affected because I am a skinny 19-year-old with AA cup breasts. I fall into the severely underweight category at 45kg/ 168cm. I have never had an eating disorder nor any serious health issues that have caused me to become this underweight, and I am as real as it gets. Despite this, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone in the media with my body shape. Small breasts are apparently so unsexy they’re banned in Australian porn (that’s a whole other world I’m not going to go into in this post).

What I’m trying to say is: skinny women are real women too! Curvy and plus-sized women are definitely under-represented in the media; this is not a point I am arguing against. I just  think that instead of the inclusive function the term “real women” was meant to have, it serves to alienates other women who do not fit the media-defined category. What we need is a common understanding that our body shape is irrelevant to our identity as a woman. I’m no psychologist, but I think we could start by discarding the term and all the connotations connected to it.

(Source: kristurtle)

To be honest, I don’t understand the whole concept of reblogging when I can keep track of things I like by “liking” it. 

My mental rules for reblogging anything are as follows:

1. Don’t reblog where a “like” would be sufficient

2. Don’t reblog anything that would give away too much information about your private life, and definitely don’t reblog anything that might make your friends uncomfortable 

….which leaves me with pretty much no use for this blog, because I am a lazy bitch who doesn’t write anymore.

I fell in love with these at first sight, when I saw them online. Saw them IRL recently… it’s just the $250 price tag coming between us now!

(And because I’m a stinge, chances are I won’t get them) 

(Source: 1trillion)