Big, Fat Truth: Volume Five

Identity Crisis

I need to get a new wardrobe for my new job, it has to be fashion forward and from my store. I spent the whole day last Saturday, watching customers try on super cute outfits and wearing clothing and being creative with combinations of items I would never have thought of myself. One girl in particular caught my eye. She was very cool. Her mix of floaty, floral palazzos, a vintage band tee and denim shirt, finished off with classic, black Birkenstocks, blew my mind! 

I subsequently spent the rest of my shift shopping for similar articles so I could recreate this girls killer look. Btw, not in a creepy, Single White Female way, but kinda how people try to look like Kardashians. 

Anyway, I find the perfect garments and head home excitedly. I, literally, cannot wait to see how cute I look! I was so disappointed. 

I had bought all the same things as her but I did not feel like a hip, chill, bohemian chick, I felt like a frumpy soccer mom. I couldn’t pull it off because it wasn’t me, individually, each element was lovely but I didn’t see myself in the mirror (figuratively, obvs). I didn’t want to prance around my boyf or What’s App my mate to show it off. It did not pass the take away test. 

This week I bought several pieces that actually reflect my personal taste. I didn’t think, would Beyoncé wear this? Well, no more than usual. I picked things I wanted because I thought they would be fierce on me, not because I got my head turned by someone else. The mystery girl was rocking her look because it was hers and God damn it, I will do the same with mine. 

Ps. The pic is of one of the black dresses I bought instead. If chubby, urban/grunge/goth fusion is working for me then I’m going to go with it. 

Big, Fat Truth: Volume Four


Keep your pecker up, no matter what! 

I have recently gotten a fantastic part-time job in a plus size store in my local town. I am having a blast! I’ve always gone back to fashion retail because I’m bloody good at it and I really love shopping and I want you to love it too! 

The best thing about my store is that it isn’t afraid to be fashion forward and we have been able to create a safe and supportive environment. An environment where women can feel comfortable and confident to experiment with different shapes and colours and trends. An environment where they can buy lingerie that is actually pretty or sexy, not two potato sacks in black, white or beige. It’s truly nirvana for fat chicks. 

[Side bar: My two cents on the whole ‘plus size’ debate, is that we will never find a term that everyone is going to be happy with but, when I was a kid, Evans was called outsize. Outsize! Plus is better than Out in my book. However, I do hope that one day all brands will run into bigger sizes and we wouldn’t need to be sectioned off at all.]

The only trouble in paradise is the not fat friend. I have seen girls, who were having a ball in the fitting room, literally deflate when they overhear someone’s skinny mate or daughter making cruel remarks. A slim chick will hold up size 30 harem pants and say, ‘just murder me if I ever get this big’, or give someone picking up a crop top the side eye, and, at least twice a day, a twelve year old will bring the house down by showing how the bras are bigger than their head, hilarious. 

Only it’s not funny. The sad fact is, I can spend 30 minutes helping a woman shop and telling her how beautiful she looks and to fuck everyone who thinks differently, but it only takes five seconds of scorn to undo all that good work. Who do they think they are? Where is their compassion and sensitivity? Why is it ok for people to feel superior by cutting down others? And, most importantly, what should I do to stop them?