May 12, 2010

fat ass.


So lately I've been tempting myself to venture out on the "wild side". You know, the side which everything isn't censored, politically correct or size four...actually BARELY even size ten. American. EVERYTHING that most of the fashion blogs 'go around' and avoid. This blog was destined to be everything all about the politically "incorrect", the girls in between and the waistlines that go belly up [ no pun ] to butter, Caesar salad and/or the occasional Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey [ my weakness ]  who admittedly plunged to the same creamy hell we all theater majors do.

I started this blog with fat and fashion in mind. Socially it's definitely quite the water and vinegar cocktail, but frankly I'm not here to test either the circumstances. I've never been a fat girl all my life, technically, I've only been "overweight" by the typical standards starting with this year of 2010. A year ago, I was a happy, hourglass, size six with a ribcage and hip bones that wouldn't budge. I lived off of Top Ramen, Popov vodka [ plastic ewww ], and fitted tailoring.

Yet now I'm fifty pounds overweight. How? Even I bang my head in at this marvelous query. I'm usually stressed about my dying father, cook everything on butter and LOVE hard liquor. Brandy in general. I was used to seeing the typical cellulite on my thighs, but now when I find it's dimpled depths on my upper arms and knee caps...I shudder. The stretch mark scars lining my stomach are just as tumultuous. The boyfriend secretly complaining nonstop about my "adorable" hippo smile...nonstop. My family who concludes that my recent weight gain is correlated my lack of "admirable" job.  My own mother who's been overweight since her last four c-sections donating her two-hundred-fifty [ ? ] "fat" clothes...one's I secretly fit in.

I'm fat. The world isn't. I'm learning to love my wider self, but it's a journey with more than cellulite and double chins. It's a reflection of my current stage in life. This blog from now one will be a mix of it all.

May 09, 2010

victory day.




"The 9th of May Victory Parades are always awesome displays. So many heroes….so many lives lost, as many as 27 million Soviet citizens lost their lives. So many heart wrenching stories of personal sacrifice, hardship and horror. Soldiers, medics, airmen and women, partisans, workers and citizens all fought and endeavored together to save the country and the world from fascism. Thinking about these individuals is almost a religious experience." 
 
 

May 07, 2010

she's a secretary.




After taking an entire year hiatus from school, art, traveling and most especially employment...my bills were screaming at me. Miraculously the first job that I applied for was the very one that decided to utilize my talents. How cliche! Still I'm ecstatic to finally get my credit debt paid and most definitely a undeniably needed gym membership. The only problem is that gaining fifty lbs in one year has left me without a wardrobe. Ugh. I'm obsessing over these beauties at the moment.




May 05, 2010

oh...pretty girl.









I cannot decide for the love of god which one to keep as my laptop's background. Seriously cannot. It's like being a fat kid at an ice cream shop. I was [frequently still am] stumped over Black Cherry, French Vanilla, Chocolate or Strawberry Shortcake. Needless to say, I walked out with all of 'em.

May 04, 2010

russian dolls.







Fragile yet harder than granite. Adore these Russian matroshkas and their mermaid locks.

May 03, 2010

latest ebay obsessions.

 
[ Thriftwares ]                                                                          [ Red Square Vintage ]

[ Thrifted ]                                                             [ Sleepyhead Vintage ]

 

If only my 21st birthday could get it's Chunky Monkey ass over here before the auctions end.

flawed monochromatic beauty.






I've always had a weakness for monochromatic photography that captured emotions, whether it be film or digital. I haven't had a model release form signed since I was seventeen. These incredible pieces aren't helping stop the itching to pick up the camera and pretend what everything I capture is beautiful.