So Outrageous

Hi. Never your dye your hair teal.

It may look super cool with some things, like a Free People stripe top (size L) from work and a Cynthia Rowley bicycle belt, but it’s a more permanent investment than you realize.

It is somewhere between blue and green, so it looks off with blue and it looks off with a green polka dot dress (size 16, thrifted).

And although it looks pretty amazing at first, it ends up fading to a color between the green of the dress and the brown of the polka dots.

And once you dye it teal, it never truly goes away. And if you are not like me, and understand color theory, you will want to avoid cool green and taupe and white animal print skirts from the 60s that you bought on etsy. You can still wear a size L polka dot top from the Limited that you bought at work, but you may want to skip the thrifted size M cardigan.

YUP JUST SITTIN’ IN A TRAIN STATION TAKING PICTURES OF MYSELF WITH MY COMPUTER.

This is a huge endorsement for the color Twisted Teal by Raw, though. If you WANT a color that stays in forever, let me tell you that no matter how hard I tried, this stuff didn’t fade a bit for a month. It did stain everything all the time when taking a shower, though. And even though I faded it with clarifying shampoo and vitamin C powder and dyed over it twice, it STILL shows through once my current dye starts fading. ONLY DYE YOUR HAIR TEAL IF YOU ARE PREPARED TO HAVE IT BE TEAL FOREVER.

Shortly before I made my last post I had been thinking about my struggle to find readers for this blog, about whether I wanted to start doing contests/giveaways (I do, but more to promote the many, many talented people I know than to simply promote the blog) or what I was doing wrong, and I came to the elusive epiphany that there was no point to having more readers if I wasn’t saying or wearing anything interesting.

Sure enough, when I finally wrote something I put some thought into, I got linked by Already Pretty (thank you!).

I want to thank everyone for really engaging with that post. It was really rewarding for me in a way that reblogs on tumblr and other instant gratification kinds of social media interactions aren’t. I can’t promise I can keep it up, though.

Do you know the tumblr Girls of Ebay? I like to believe it’s not about meanspirited mockery, and my favorite part about it is that there are no pithy, try-hard, Tosh.0 style comments attached to the pictures.  To me it’s what American Apparel would like to be but is unable to be because it is so earnest that it is almost alien. It is also clearly not about objectification or sexualization. I know the spirit of it is not exactly celebratory of the photographic accomplishments of these women, but the idea that they are subject to interpretation– just “this is funny/neat/interesting for the fact that it is exists”– is my favorite part about it.

I don’t have great equipment.

I have a pretty low-powered point-and-shoot, a Nikon 2600. When I took these pictures, I didn’t think “I want to look like a Girl of E-bay”.

But when I uploaded these I saw something similar about them. I often wonder if I did have the time and capability of taking a DSLR into a field of daisies if I would find it something worth doing. I think part of following a fashion blog is a certain kind of escapism. Seeing a girl posing like a tool in her (sister’s) room, even if she’s wearing an interesting outfit, does not provide a feeling of “I want to dress like her and have a life like hers”. That’s the feeling I look for in fashion blogs that I follow, at least.

I wore this to school. I do go through a thought process of “I want to go full-on 90s goth today” before I get dressed. The dress is INC, either an L or XL, and it was the first thing I ever bought at a branch of the store I currently work at. Anything fancy I do with my hair either involves braids or curls.

This is one of those outfits that I build up from one particular piece, in this case, lion skirt. Lion skirt is a size M, also from my job. The top is Old Navy, size XL. The tights were a gift.

I was wearing a sleeveless top at work recently and a lady says something to me about how she needs to cover her arms, and how I’d understand when I’m older. I told her I did understand but chose a long time ago to completely disregard things like that. It wasn’t too long ago, actually, that I refused to wear anything shorter than short sleeves. My arms are still not my favorite. They are easily one of the most visibly fat parts of me and I have trouble seeing beauty in them. I think actual naivete, not practiced naivete, is part of the appeal of Girls of Ebay, and seeing pictures of myself where all the non-standard parts of me (arms, chins, rabbit teeth, belly) are highlighted is very Girls of Ebay.

I actually did buy a GorillaPod and am waiting on it. I will never be able to afford a DSLR, I think, but I am intrigued to find out if a small investment like this will make all the difference.

I always feel embarrassed asking people to take pictures of me or having people catch me take pictures of myself, which seems to be an integral part of fashion blogging. We may be immersed in Instagram culture (guess who will also never be able to afford an iPhone, probably?) but there’s still something uncanny about “being your own best model”, as the Girls of Ebay tagline says.

I can identify my aesthetic with a few phrases: “sexy party clown”, “precocious uncomfortable baby”, and perhaps “aggressive whimsy machine”.

Fat female-identified people have only a select number of roles people feel comfortable with them filling: “curvy” vamp, matronly mother-type, non-sexual best friend, and whimsical quirky girl.

Christina Hendricks is allowed to be fat on TV because her curves are anachronistically celebrated on “Mad Men”. Melissa McCarthy is allowed to be fat in movies because she often performs a caregiver or best friend role.  Adele is allowed to be fat in music because she follows the great tradition of soul singers draped in mourning clothes, for whom we can’t really imagine sex or heartbreak happening, but whose voices we use to channel and embody our own heartbreak. We particularly use the matronly trope for fat women of color in white-dominated media. As far as quirky girls go, do you know how many times I have been told I look like Garcia from Criminal Minds?

The fat quirky girl is different from the Zooey Deschanel or Natalie Portman quirky girl because she is completely removed from the ideals of sexual appeal. A fat girl can never be a girl next door because her fatness is indicative of excess or lack of self-control, which can not coexist with the wholesomeness  and invigorating liveliness of a girl next door.

So how does this manifest in fashion? CONSTANTLY AND UBIQUITOUSLY. When we think of the main distributors of clothing for fat wearers of female-marketed clothing, Lane Bryant might be the first to come to mind. Their catalog is aimed at two fat markets: conservative/work-appropriate and conservatively sexy. “Cute” or “interesting” are never facets of design for them, only “appropriate”. Lane Bryant wants to help you let the world know that you are appropriately ashamed of your body and would not dare call attention to it by wearing prints or any cuts other than classic wrap-dresses. This is your store for fat type matronly.

For a younger market, Torrid is the primary retailer, but having tried to shop there when it used to be the only option for me, the only aesthetic it caters to is youth by way of sex appeal. This only works well if you happen to think sex appeal can be carried out by wearing poorly made and designed polyester club wear. This is part of fat type “curvy”.

Of course there is nothing wrong with embracing your sexuality, and any word that you’d like to use to identify yourself or your body, even if euphemistic, is valid. I think, though, there is a constant perpetuation of the idea that if your curves are in the wrong kinds of places, then you are the wrong kind of fat. You are not Joan, you are Peggy Olson when she didn’t know she was pregnant (SPOILERS).

Once, a boy I was dating informed me that I could never be sexy. “Only cute”, he clarified to me. I have very small breasts, no hips, and no ass, and because of that I can’t demonstrate the kind of body . bravery that is celebrated commonly in fat circles. I cannot demonstrate sexiness. I cannot wear a bikini or a crop top because I have a body that does not lend itself to sexualization, even by other fat people. I am frequently asked if I am pregnant because there is no place for a body that is fat but non-sexual, that has an ample belly and arms but no “curves”.

So do I carve out a space for myself in the trope of infantilization, where I feel comfortable but commonly make other people uncomfortable? I think discomfort in many ways is virtuous. I am attracted to disruption but on a very base level I like things that are cute. I do not want to be anyone’s mom, aesthetically or otherwise.

What is the difference between an Alison Brie type and me? What makes her a dewy-eyed Disney bride and myself a weird baby lady? I think that it is that fatness and a childish sense of wonder in combination recall associated stereotypes of fatness like laziness, dependence on others, and stupidity. It takes fatness to an unsettling place for people.

I am 24 now. I have no desire to drastically change my aesthetic, as I will always like cute things, weird things, goth things, and retro things because they appeal to me without the baggage of seeming “childlike”, though that baggage seems to exist for many other people. I am only now beginning to wonder if I always have to be an Adele or a Garcia to everyone, regardless of how carefully I cultivate my own fashion choices.

The octopus dress is a vintage dress upcycled by aorta on etsy and I can recommend them highly. The cardigan is by Design History, size L, bought at work, and the belt is J Crew and also from work.

I feel like fashion has currently caught up to what I’ve always been into. I feel lucky! Truly, I don’t like feeling not unique but it is good to be able to easily purchase things I like.

I got this dress at a Buffalo Exchange in Center City, which is not the consignment franchise I work for. They have a lot of fun stuff, and this was new with tags (from TJ Maxx, haha).

I really liked the staff at Buffalo Exchange, and was surprised to see such negative reviews on Buffalo Exchange, especially for their consignment policies.

Consignment is a great way to make a little money if you have things you’ve bought but don’t use or just generally take great care of your clothing (personally, I couldn’t consign anything I’ve bought because it’s usually thrifted in the first place and worn until it’s in tatters).

Here are some tips on consigning clothing. These aren’t specific policies related to where I work; they should help you no matter where you consign:

-Before loading your stuff up, make sure you read ALL of the consignment policies before you go. This will help prevent wasting your own time and theirs. It’s important to know whether or not you need an  appointment, whether they pay you up front or put you on a contract, how they would like you to bring your items (on hangers? in bags?), if they have a minimum of items they take, whether or not they take vintage pieces, what sizes they take, etc. Unfortunately plus size consignment is hard to find, but many places will take up to size XL or don’t have a maximum for shoe sizes. And let the consignment store know there is interest in plus size consignment if they don’t have it!

-It’s always best to launder anything you want to consign before you consign it. It’s just polite, and it will help get rid of simple things that might prevent your item from being taken (dirt, cat hair, etc).

-To prevent embarrassment for yourself and for the staff at the store, make sure nothing you bring has any icky stains. Period and pit stains happen to everyone! It’s normal! But you don’t necessarily want to share yours with the world. Check every item you want to bring for deodorant stains, collar wear, pulls, all the things they will be looking for, too. Pre-sorting your items saves you time when you get there. If it’s something really high end, like a designer purse or designer shoes, keep in mind if there’s significant wear you might not make as much back as you’d like.

-Don’t try to argue with the staff about what they will or won’t take. They probably know the stock of the store well enough to know what will or won’t sell. If there are extenuating factors (it’s a designer they might not know, you paid $1200 for it, it’s made out of whale bone penis, whatever), politely let them know before they start looking at your items.

That’s it! Go make some money off your stuff!

It’s been universal knowledge for generations that the best way to dye your hair is with a sleepover. Kara and I both used Manic Panic Ultraviolet (with a splash of Electric Amethyst) and it turned out… turquoise? Not really what we intended, and I am kind of over Manic Panic as a result.

The color barely took for me! It became kinda cool mermaid hair but I have since done something a little less splotchy with it. It was not Kara’s fault at all, though. We each completely coated our hair with dye but it must have been a bad batch or something.

This blouse is a fun thing from a thrift store that I butchered. Some people can do any kind of DIY project and make it look beautiful. I just took a pair of scissors and started chopping at the sleeves unevenly until I was too angry to do more. I am too impatient and clumsy for craft.

I’m with grill. Kara also thrifts pretty much everything she wears.

The skirt is actually a poodle skirt my mom made for me in 7th grade, and sure, I still wear it. If it fits, why stop?

Here are some DIY projects I would do if I weren’t totally incompetent:

bow on the back Valentino t-shirt

stencil your own heart print tights

easy circle skirt tutorial

I think my very cute Oxfords have become the reason I can barely walk because of carpal tunnel in my foot. I have to find something that is not Crocs to work all day in.

Pennsylvania weather has been hovering around 60 for the past 6 months because we think we are San Francisco without the basic concessions to human rights. I realize none of my clothing is seasonal. Any of my outfit posts could happen at any time of the year.

Looking towards summer, which is the worst season, all I really want is basically a variety of printed togas with little braided belts. I don’t know why everyone has to complicate fat fashion. In the summer, when I sweat like manappendages, I just want a breezy thing that doesn’t have an empire waist or any kind of tailoring or material that shows exactly how much I’m sweating.

The frustrating thing about this is that I feel like that’d be a relatively simple and cheap thing to produce, but all anyone ever wants to hoist on fat ladies is sheaths of rayon to show off your chests, regardless of whether or not there’s anything to see.

I also don’t ever want a waistline to end right below my boobs. Ever.

I JUST WANT A PRINTED TOGA.

Instead, I am a printed tiger:

This was at the peak of hair grossness. I’ve since fixed it so it’s a different type of gross.

Fashion tip for this week and every week: Alienate everyone.

top: Patina Vintage, size OLD

skirt: on clearance at work, size HANDMADE

tights: prolly kohl’s

with special guest star sir isaac

When I was a young mall goth, freshly outfitted in the finest UFO pants and oversized t-shirts with slogans that said things like “As a matter of fact the world does revolve around me”, my primary fashion goals were to let everyone know what a snarky asshole I was and to hide my body.

which is obviously not a concern anymore

I discovered lolita fashion, which was an avenue to my discovery of my feminine side. I got into the idea of self-acceptance and loving the body you have, and it made me want to hide it less. The more feminine I dressed and the less of myself I hid, the less I wore pants. It got to the point where I had no idea why I owned jeans in the first place.

Because of my body shape (big belly, no butt, proportionally toned legs, no hips), pants never stay up, nor are they flattering in any way. When I was working at the bank, a particularly stupid co-worker initiated this exchange:

Co-worker: Mary, no offense but…

Me: Yes?

Co-worker: Do you ever wear pants?

Me: Ohhhh. No.

Why would that question be offensive? I had been expecting her to ask me if I ever showered, or if I actually kept human body parts in my lunch bag because I seemed like the type. NO OFFENSE TAKEN, FORMER CO-WORKER. Pants are agony for someone shaped like me. Until one day, on a trip to the Bucks County Antique Gallery, I found them. The pants.

They seem like they were handmade in the 70s. They have an elastic waist and no tag. They remind me of PA dutch hex signs and summer pool parties where people eat disgusting stuff like ambrosia. They are comfortable but confusing.

I cheated, though. I did not wear enormous platforms all day at work. I actually wore these:

But tiny little flats diffuse the majesty of these pants! They require a shoe with some guts, some bravado! Unfortunately guts and bravado don’t make it easy to be on my feet for 8 hours.

I thought you ought to know that sometimes I DO close my gaping maw.

top: Kensie, size L

pants: Bucks County Antique Gallery, vintage

scarf: thrifted

shoes: which ones? the tan ones are demonia, thrifted, and the little oxfords are qupid

“that’s not LOLITA,” someone would say, “she’s not wearing a PETTICOAT and her TIGHTS HAVE HOLES and she’s FAT and i HATE HER and i will ANONYMOUSLY FIND OUT HER ADDRESS and INFORM HER WORKPLACE SHE’S A SLUT.”

5 years ago that would bother me. Or I’d be the one saying it, probably.

Surely, dressing yourself without the help of rules and guidelines and a bunch of screaming internet girls is a loathsome task, but these days I am (questionably) managing.

Actually, when I got home I kind of hated this outfit. I wondered if perhaps I had walked around looking like a fucking mess all day and because everyone perceives me as always being a fucking mess no one bothered to tell me.

SMILE AND NO ONE WILL NOTICE

blouse: thrifted

dress: BABY THE STARS SHINE BRIGHT. this dress has been through a LOT

belt: crappy mall Body Central

shoes: Jeffrey Campbell

no petticoat this time!

my favorite compliments to receive:

-I can’t wait to see what you’re gonna wear all the time!

-your face looks vintage (WHAT)

-you look like amanda seyfried/christina ricci/any total hottie that i don’t actually look like but i am totally ok with reminding people of

-you sang the ass out of that hall & oates song

-i like your face (said by some guy at a costume party off his face on E or something)

-”your hair looks like a lisa frank sunset”

least favorite compliments to receive:

-”congratulations on not wearing your weight around your neck”

-you look like (person who is famous for being fat but doesn’t look like me)

-you look comfortable

-”that’s so different!”

-”the one on the right looks like a dude but if it’s not i’d totally fuck it”

-things that are observations but not compliments: “so many colors”, etc

OH GODDAMMIT I HAVE WORK AND I NEED TO WEAR CLOTHES TO WORK AND NOT BE NAKED

I NEVER WEAR THIS DRESS (FROM PAYHALF, SIZE L) I WILL WEAR THIS DRESS BUT PEOPLE ALWAYS ASK WHEN I AM DUE WHEN I WEAR IT AND I AM JUST NOT IN THE MOOD

I WILL THROW A SPARKLY CARDIGAN OVER IT (FOREVER 21, SIZE L) BUT THAT IS STILL NOT FANCY ENOUGH

YES, A CROCHET BOW WILL MAKE THINGS ADEQUATELY FANCY

but only just!

I’m so behind. There is some obvious autumn foliage in this. But it hasn’t gotten much colder since I took these!

I don’t know. I think Uggs have ruined slouchy boots for me forever. They are from etsy. I bought them for my Hallowe’en costume and are actually kind of uncomfortable, even though they are flat.

The sweater is thrifted. The skirt was on clearance at work, size L. The necklace is from Buffalo Exchange. RETAIL PRICES CAN S MY D.

I took this by accident because I forgot to put on the self-timer. I’m a smart lady.

LITTLE FURRY PHOTOBOMBER