More specifically, I want to talk about the (enormous!) role our society’s attitudes towards sex and virginity had in this tragedy.
Go on, read this. You know you want to.
…you are an idiot.
I’ve been extremely nervous about writing this post. The reason being that I love you guys and don’t want to offend any of you. I really don’t.
But I’ve decided that this message is way too important for me to not say it. But be aware that I will be describing symptoms and manifestations of mental illnesses at their worst here, so if you are at all afraid that you might be triggered, either don’t read (I won’t be offended) or send me a message asking if there is anything specifically triggering to you in here, and I will happily answer.
Right. On with the post!
Hi everyone! It’s been a stupidly long time since I’ve posted, and I’m so sorry about that. The only real excuse I can give is “life”. So provided that my absence hasn’t caused you all to abandon Fatshion Hustlings, let’s get into some discussing of things and life and such.
Today, I want to talk about makeup.
Chums, Chumettes, and others of assorted Chumliness, I am afraid this will not be a long post. There are a couple I am thinking about, and I will write them. But not tonight. Tonight, I am zonked from a looooong work day and feeling feelings toward my bed right now that can only be described as lustful.
I watched Frozen this morning. I absolutely loved it. It was visually stunning, funny, heartfelt, and I really liked how the “true love” cure-all was… ahh, I’d better not spoil. At least not before the convenient “read more” cut.
But it’s a particular moment from the movie I want to talk about today.
I fucking love dancing.
Pardon me while I take a moment to rearrange my face into an expression of shock.
A couple of days ago, a friend posted on Facebook about her mother saying rude things about what working class locals wear. Said friend went on to say that it was almost as though her mother forgets that she wasn’t always middle class.
It’s a fair point. It would be like me hypothetically losing a shit-tonne of weight, then saying rude things to people who were still fat.
I’m not much of a New Year’s Resolutions kind of girl. I read a post on This Is Thin Privilege (fellow fatties/people interested in fat discrimination, check this baby out, because it is awesome and so cathartic, and the mods are awesome) about a woman who’s going to be going back to uni and getting her life back on track, and some dickhead she knows actually said “that’s boring; what about weight loss resolutions”.