Yesterday was my last true day at the cafe. And I had never received so many compliments in one day…ever! I didn’t dress up or wear make up, shit, I didn’t even brush my hair! Just slapped a big hot pink flower headband on that bitch and headed out the door! Ha-ha! I was told I was smiling bigger than ever before. Huh, hadn’t thought of that as an outfit accessory. But it was true, I was smiling and happy and so ready to walk away entirely. What I also hadn’t counted on was my own body issues becoming more apparent. Oops!

Night before last, we were suiting up to go swimming with out niece and my MIL. I thought I heard a bunch of kids in the pool and cringed. My husband asked what was up and I explained that I get anxiety from the thought of being in a pool full of kids. And he said that yes, he realized this as well (about me) and that my body issues aren’t entirely resolved. I said to him, “Well, yeah! Everyone has body issues.” and left it at that. Then later his mom mentioned the length of my swim suit after I called it a swim dress. It goes down to my knees, y’all! It’s one of those sporty Junonia numbers with the zipper in front (got it on clearance for a steal a year or two ago). It’s so comfortable and keeps my boobs in place (which I need) and I like it. It’s not terribly stylish, but I’m all about comfort, so fuck it!

But it’s true. I do still struggle. I am not a Fatkini Riot-er. It’s not that I didn’t want a new swim suit this year, it’s just that we are fucking poor and they cost so damned much! Even looking at the clearance ones at Torrid the other day, I either didn’t like them or they were too expensive. As I explained to my husband though, it’s not so much my body specifically, as my armpit cysts and other similar anomalies. My niece pointed to my armpit yesterday and said, “Oh you have mosquito bites, too?” and I had to explain that it was either heat rash or cysts. UGH!

And there is fuck all I can do about it. I cover them for my comfort, no one elses. When my pits aren’t inflamed, I’ll go sleeveless. I honestly don’t mind it now. But huge red blotchy sores? No thanks, not wanting the world to see ’em. Is that so wrong? That’s not the whole story though, is it? I don’t like how my waist line looks bare. I have a permanant pink/red line that goes along it and wouldn’t dream of showing it to anyone, ever…except my husband. I am getting used to showing more of my bare legs, but that is still and may always be a struggle for me. Part of me will always be a scruffy tom boy, no matter what frilly things I put on.

And so I reflect and ponder and consider these issues while also wondering what tomorrow will bring. I am so optimistic about the future now. I know that the universe chose to take mercy on me and nothing short of a (I hate to use the word, but) miracle took place so that I could sell my cafe. In this economy it is truly a wonder that we’ve been able to struggle along this long! But I am humbled and ever so grateful for all that has transpired these last 2-3 years. And I am trying my best to enjoy this in-between time. I slept in this morning (an hour), I am playing fetch with my puggyman, I am listenting to music instead of morning radio! *Sigh* So nice! Peace and space. This is what I needed all along!

Now, to sort through this paperwork and tax business?! Ha-ha! And dust off the old resume. They still use those, don’t they? Resumes? Ha-ha! It seems like everything has changed since I’ve been out of the workforce. But I suppose that is a post unto itself.

What body issues do you still struggle with? What one part of your body would you never show the world, why? What kind of bathing suit do you rock at the pool or beach? Are you a proud fatkini riot-er? I want to hear the good and the bad. The proud and the shy! Why? Because you ALL amaze the shit out of me! <3

Today’s Tank Top Tuesday submission comes from Heather of the fabulous blog FatGirlPosing.BlogSpot.com

My arms are fat and I love them. I spent 13 years wearing long pants and long sleeves. Finding the fat acceptance movement has not only done wonders for how I feel about myself and my body, but it’s been fantastic for my wardrobe and my comfort. They’re just arms! What’s the big deal? And I have so much more fun with my friends and family when I’m not worried the entire time about how I look. Enjoying life is far more important than who’s offended by my rolls.

Thank you for the fab pic, Heather! Be sure to check out her blog often (sometimes NSFW & generally better for a mature audience)!

I am taking submissions from anyone who wants to exercise their right to Bare Arms! Email your pics here: notblueatall@notblueatall.com, please include the name you’d like included in the post, a blog or etsy shop you wanna plug, your thoughts on bare arms or other fatty philosophies. It does not have to be in a tank top, so long as your arms are bare. Have fun with it!

Also, feel free to still treat comments as TMI topic/discussion area! Feel free to ask TMI questions or just vent/rant about your own stuff. I love it! We all do! =0)

FattiBoomBallatti here:

So there must be a special place in hell for the plus sized bridal dress industry, or perhaps the wedding dress industry in its entire. I mean it is such a freaking racket. To back up here for a little bit and explain my strong sentiment I decided to get married this September, back in May. The reason why I did this was that I wanted to “get er done” rather than obsess and get all OCD on it should I wait for next spring. So I started off on my adventure wanting: champagne colored tea length, A-lined dress. Did I eventually find it? Not….quite.

So my H2B goes online for about an hour, orders a full linen suit online made to his order, it comes about 3 week later and looks fabulous on him… no alterations needed. Oh, and it cost him under $150. Contrast that with the epic journey into wedding dresses that I have had. First I learned that many of the couture gowns need to be ordered 6 months in advance, and THAT is only for them to make it in a STANDARD SIZE.  Why does it take 4-6 months if you are making them in standard sizes??? Oh, that’s right so you can charge holy hell for them….

From there you would then have to alter it to your specific measurements. Now… why the HELL can’t I get a wedding dress as easily as my beaux got his suit? I’ll tell you why my little darlings, snuggle in close…. Because the bridal industry exists on continuous shots of body insecurity that it feeds on like a zombie feeds on brains.

So I quickly realized that I would have to buy “off rack”. As I do not have time for a couture piece nor do I have time to have something made to order in time. So what did that mean for a girl like me? It meant David’s Bridal. And that was after another consignment wedding shop that had exactly 2 dresses in my heifer size… exactly two and most places stop making them after 14 which if you know anything about wedding dresses they are sized two down, so women bigger than a 10 or smallish 12 can go stuff themselves I guess….. I wear a street 16 and I am apple shaped and that translated into a size 20 at that store….

So I made my appointment at David’s Bridal and arrived on a Friday morning the same time 3 other women came con entourage to try on dresses. They were all about 5-8 years younger than me, thinner than me and unlike me, who came alone, had a gaggle of ladies to pass judgment/praise. Even though I walked in at the same time and had my appointment I was seen last and while the rest of them got the nice full mirrored dressing rooms in the middle of the store on the lovely dais for longish trains I was relegated to the “large and roomy” dressing room in the back and next to the bathrooms with only one mirror partially obstructed to try things on. Talk about feeling like the ugly redheaded stepchild here like they didn’t want shoppers to walk by and see me in the store.

Now of course it would seem every dress I wanted they did not have in my size and in the end I bought a dress I kinda liked in a size too big but I was not thinking straight. I was panicked about finding a dress and confused by the treatment I receieved so I found one and got out. It was a longish tea length, missing the sash which they never gave me and is not in champagne.

So it took me a while to mull over my treatment. Was it because I am in my 30s? Was it because I am fat? For so many reasons or maybe the culmination of them all I felt marginalized, unimportant, and as a first time bride I did not feel at all like the special feeling they say all Brides do when getting their gown. I did the one thing I told myself I would never do again… settle on something because it fit and not because I really liked it.

So I kept looking for dresses and found some I liked online. One was a vintage swing dress with champagne lace overlay and champagne flowers I was like, yeah that’ll do just fine! so I ordered it which came in almost at my exact measurements. Now here’s the thing… I wear a size 16, depending on how the waist is since I am a total Apple… I am most likely considered inbetweenie status…. And the dress that I got was a bit tight in the waist but it was the largest size they carried…. Was sized as a “XXXL” on the tag….. really? Wtf? An XXXL? SRSLY?!?!?

I have something to say to clothiers who go S,M,L, XL, XXL, XXXL and so on…. There is something incredibly WRONG with utilizing this standard of measurement as if to say, “If you are beyond a large… well really we don’t have any words in English to suit your fat ass…. You’re just fucking…extra”.

How the hell is a woman not to feel marginalized, unseen, invisible if   (and this is key)   there is no language in use to describe her? We are all just extras… with no appellation of our own. Too much, overdone, above, beyond the ability to script new words for.

If I had it my way I would pass a law requiring women’s clothing to go by inches just like men’s clothes do, or hey why not have fun with it? Make the sizes colors or flowers or adverbs… come on, anything but shitty, hateful, fat shaming “XXXL”.

So anyways I kept the dress and may end up wearing it for the wedding but this whole wedding dress fiasco has really been just that. A fiasco. At a time when a woman should feel beautiful, special, loved, pampered the whole bridal wedding dress industry instills the opposite so they can fill their greedy little coffers.

So, on my wedding day I will feel beautiful, special, loved and pampered… but it won’t be because of the dress.

Today’s Tank Top Tuesday submission comes from Katie Koumatos!

I, like my mother and grandmother, have copious arm fat.  In the rad world of fatty activism, we call them “Hey Baby’s, because that’s the part that wiggles when you wave and yell hello to your friends.  I have learned to love my arms, appreciating their size and interesting shape.  But I have not always been this chill about my arm fat.  For many years I wore ill-fitting t-shirts in the summer, staring jealously at tank top clad girls who seemed so svelte and comfortable.  About five years ago I finally took the leap.  My first tank top was covered in glitters and sparkles, in hopes that folks might be dazzled by it and completely miss my giant naked arms.  I wore it out and surprisingly, no one threw rocks or even insulted me.  I felt beautiful and even more importantly, cool in the hot Sacramento sun.  Years later, more than half of my summer tops are tanks and I don’t even think about it.  It was one of those first steps on the road to body acceptance and I am so thankful I took that risk!

Trigger Alert: a WHOLE lot of bad language used therein: unless you dig that kind of thing, then step right in!

Fattiboombalatti here, how yous all doin’?

So today I get into an altercation with some douchebag who was parked in the alleyway (even though he had his whole, empty drive way) unloading some bullshit from his van. He isn’t moving even though I am clearly behind him, he expected me to back out onto a busy street and go around. So when I got out of my car and tell him not so nicely to move his car we start having an argument. First he tells me that I am “ignant” (his word, not mine) then he calls me a “Fat Bitch” then a little later, “White Bitch’. Before all is said and done and then he finally moved his van out of the alley so that I could move forward. My responses to those epithets above were: “lol I am “ignant, huh” “ooo big man calling me fat bitch I am so scared” and finally “ahh pulling the race card, are you?” and that was after he threatened to hurt me… in our quick back and forth not once did I disparage him by how he looked or about his qualities or capabilities, I did tell him to go fuck himself, but that’s really an invitation rather than a judgment.

So anyway… I want to deconstruct those words. Fat Bitch Fat Bitch Fat Bitch. I have probably heard those two words from pissed off people more than any other epithet that can be reasonably applied to me. I don’t really understand what is it about calling me a fat bitch that is supposed to be so insulting.  Like what do they expect me to do? Grab my fat all of a sudden and say, “Oh my god! I never noticed I am fat!!! After you have so succinctly pointed out my fatness I will right away jump on a treadmill and drink slim fast, thank you for your acute observation, sir.” Like really, what’s the point about pointing out the obvious here? I am fat and yes I am a bitch upon occasion and usually in direct correlation to the douchebaggery which is you at the moment.

The label Fat Bitch seems to apply whenever I have stopped being a “good girl” and sifting through the other moments where I have been called such was usually when I was attempting to assert my rights or my needs. Fat Bitch seems to be the label of nonconforming women, angry women, women who just really don’t give a fuck. I mean, I really don’t and am not ashamed to take up the cause whatever that cause may be. It’s not too dissimilar to slut, whore, cunt…. Those are also words usually applied to women “behaving badly’. As if those words, like Fat Bitch, are meant to silence us, to shame us, to assign us to a moral code of bad better best.

I had another nasty thought though, an insidious one that now when I looked at thin people, naturally slim people after the incident tonight I thought…. Do ALL of you, when you see me, do you think “Fat Bitch” about me? Is your disgust with me so intense and so close to the surface that all I have to do is make you angry for it to come bursting forth? Do I walk down the street and as I pass you does something within speak in the silence of your mind… look at that fat bitch? Have I been blind all these years thinking good will when in fact its just social niceties? In the face of ALLLLLLLLL that….. How can we not but reclaim fat bitch for our very own? While you attempt by making me “small” by using those words, as if those words should mean that instantly I am less than you, worth less than you, mean less than…. You. Cause I won’t do it. I am not going to shut the fuck up. I will not be a good girl. I will not go away and I certainly am not going to allow you to make me feel lacking. Though we fatties have been conditioned to believe that that most feared word once brought out into the light is like kryptonite to our souls; Supposedly rendering us powerless and in doubt. Like sunlight to a vampire calling me a Fat Bitch is supposed to render me weak and ineffectual; the horrible nightmare of every woman on this planet, “do I look fat in this?” the word to luff my sails, to becalm me and to win.

Does anyone know how to screen print T Shirts? I really really want one that says “Fat Bitch” on it. I’m claiming this.

NotBlueAtAll: Yes! You can certainly do your own DIY style screen printing, but there are some fab sites that do this cheaply, without the mess, as well! My fave is CustomizedGirl.com (link will put you directly into their plus sizes) and I have bought a tee from them that fits fabulously (don’t remember if I got a men’s 3x or a plus size one)! They have fun fonts (even rhinestone & glittery ones), you can even “distress” your design and I found it to be the most user friendly of custom t-shirt sites. Coupon Code: 4Got (15% off) or CG$U ($5 off) I have not tried these codes, but if you get their emails they send you discounts often, gotta love that!

I’ve also ordered from VistaPrint.com but their biggest size was a big snug, I still wore it for a charity walk, but haven’t worn it since.  I have done my own screen printing but it is pricey for the paints and quite labor intensive. You could buy a Yudu machine ($99-$399) and have an at-the-ready screen printing station for yourself, too.

My two cents: I love this! Taking back that which is constantly being thrown at us?! Yeah!!! When I have been called a Fat Bitch (forever capitalized, thank you) I have almost always smiled at the notion, that this simple turn of phrase could take power or diminish me?! NO WAY! Not on my watch! I’d love a Fat Bitch tee, here’s my first draft design, Woo!: