Tummy tamers and other undergarmets of a supportive nature!

I’m the proud owner of…..

…well if I told you straight off I’d have given away the funny bit of the story wouldn’t I?!

This week’s tale starts with the realisation that my bootilicious self really needed to invest in new underwear. Saggy pants and bras with emerging underwire had become prevalent in my wardrobe. Not only unsightly (unsupported tummy alert) and uncomfortable (what’s that heavy feeling on my stomach?….oh that’s right it’s my boob that has freed itself from the confines of a bra I’ve owned for a decade) but also embarrassing (Colleague: ”What’s that metal coming out of your top?” Me: “Oh that’s just the underwire of my bra” #feeds wire back in and turns scarlet).

I decided to start with the bottom half having reviewed a recent photo and realised I really need better tummy tamer undies. I head to Marks & Spencer and to the shape wear. The labels on the display of hideous unattractive flesh coloured chastity belts are adorned with svelte ladies beaming away with their naturally flat stomach. You can hear them laughing I swear! I bend to look for my size right at the back of the bottom shelf naturally – make the chubbies bend hey. I select my Bridget Jones specials. On which point I must add that if I had a figure like Bridget I’d skip around in lacy thongs for sure. Lady at checkout smiles politely as she scans them. I can tell she is thinking these pants have a big task at hand with me.

That night I try them on….. well I try to try them on anyway. I get my legs in and start to raise them up. They are snug but I think to myself this is a good thing as they need to hold on tight when I get them on. In walks my husband, bursts into laughter at the sight of me fighting with my new super knickers. I leave the room now barely able to breathe. I lay on the spare bed and continue trying by writhing around like a snake held in a tight grasp. It’s no good I’m nearly blue and still my yummy tummy is pouring over the top. I abandon hope and move onto the top half.

So bras easy right? Lots of places cater for big boobs now don’t they? Well yes they do but they don’t cater for big ladies with big boobs which surprises me as surely its more likely? What am I to know.

I pass by the lovely lingerie store on my local high street remembering my last attempt to explore their collection. The sign says “look fantastic whatever your shape or size” - they didn’t mean me. In fairness the lady was lovely and measured me chatting away but then she made that air sucking noise. You know like a builder does when he is telling you that the wall is going to fall over unless you spend thousands with him right now. She offered to look into speciality suppliers on order but I declined.

So I went home and to my computer and online shopping which is where most of my shopping takes place. I head straight to my favourite site – Simply Be. A retailer who know women of all ages and really do come in all sizes and we like a really big range of things…mostly not tents. I dream of a Simple be shop (with wide aisles and large changing rooms) but for now I’ll settle for several hours in front of my laptop. I got a little waylaid on the party clothes but eventually managed to refocus my attention to the job in hand (they would have to be very big hands). I head to the appropriate section and start narrowing my selection choosing underwired, strapless and then my size. I was left with 1 product choice. I can live with that as it’s what I need. Now before I fill you in on the product details let’s talk language.

I always think ‘plus size’ isn’t the most endearing term to be honest and recently a question popped up on Twitter from the ever scrumptious bunch at Simply Be saying that a recent survey showed that us larger ladies would prefer to be called ‘curvy’. My response was that I’d really prefer ‘gorgeous’ but would settle for  ‘mighty fine’ or ‘delectable’. Labels mean a lot and, I know as someone who’s had a few applied to them over the years, can make a big difference to how you feel about yourself too.

I decided to purchase the product I was left with and so have become the proud owner of ‘the World’s Largest Strapless bra’ I kid you not!…I await the call from Guinness.

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I do like festive glitz!

So the other day I noticed a blog from one of my favourite plus sized retailers – M & Co. I’ve been a fan of their plus size collection for a while and have got a nice selection of their curvaceous delights in my wardrobe. They’ve set us a bloggers a challenge of piecing together a top notch Christmas outfit from their online store and it’s a challenge I’m more than happy to take on. I do so love some sparkle and glamour at Christmas.

As a full time working mum I'm not necessarily overrun with occasions for such glamorous outfits and I'm not imagining that this year I will suddenly become sophisticated socialite with invites for Christmas engagements flooding through my letterbox. This year though I am hoping to have friends over for a few cocktails in the run up to Christmas and for a few fleeting moments I can imagine I'm in a trendy London bar quaffing champagne and canapes until reality hits that my neighbours baby (who I was holding while she shouts at her 6 year old to stop trying to juggle with my paperweights) has thrown up down my back, my friend is being sink in my treasured butlers sink and my 5 year old and her friend are now under the collapsed Christmas tree following a failed game of ring-a-ring o'roses.

So, with an uplifting reminder of reality in mind I got to thinking what do I really want from a Christmas outfit? Well I could be tempted to velvet shorts and a sparkly halterneck but my wimpish southern ways dictate that a little more coverage is required. I love trousers, wider legged the better for that air of sophistication I hold dear (I can hear you laughing you know!) but I actually think if you want to dazzle at Christmas it’s an occasion to throw caution to the wind and get a frock.

I think my winning dress from the collection would be (I told you I like sparkle):

 

Sequin dress  £55

The dress means inevitably that the hunt for well fitting, comfortable tights for my, more than shapely, pins will begin. Obviously I’ll give their tights a try – these 60 denier ones look like the job – might be a pants on top too job to hold them secure….don’t pretend you’ve never done this.

 

 

60 denier tights £8

 

Onto accessories. Love earrings – they always fit. They have a great range of excellent value piece and these are my fave (in fact I’m off to buy them after work)

 

Glass drop earring £5

The finishing touch of course – shoes. Now, in order to maintain my sophisticated poise, I’m afraid strappy sparkly sandals are not in order. I love them and, don’t get me wrong, I buy them but my lesson from last Christmas is certainly that sometimes glamour can be compromised by heels when in combination with decking, ice and a friends decorative pond. I’ll leave you all to paint the picture! My choice therefore is a pair of lovely wedges with ankle straps – yes even with my calves.

 

Black wedges £15 (what a steal!)

 

And in case my mum asks of course I’d wear a coat! actually i would wear this wonderful long military maxi coat. It goes up to a 22 and I think I'd stand a chance as long as I lay off the mince pies. I'd be warm and snug enough to pop round my neighbourhood for a spot of carol singing before the cocktail party too. I'm not sure the neighbours would be impressed but I could always supply earplugs!

 

 

Military maxi coat £99

Happy sparkling everyone!

Halloween costume horror

So what next? Shall I be ranty, funny, self absorbed or some incredible mixture of the 3? Well let us make a start and see what we end up with!

I’m constantly impressed with the power of Twitter. Its ability to quickly mobilise people behind a cause (#timetotalk), unite people in times of great joy (#royalbaby) or just be fantastically daft (#geekpickuplines). It makes me feel like, what can seem a very big world, is actually a very small place in which a sense of community does still exist (fear not I’m not about to break into “I have a dream”).

Today is a great example of what I like best about the people power of Twitter. Now some of you may have caught snippets on mainstream news of a backlash against the likes of Asda, Tesco and Amazon regarding their oh so politically correct choice of Halloween costumes. Those ‘friends to the populous’ at Walmart have, with the ironic sensitivity of an axe wielding maniac been selling a costume labelled ‘Mental Patient’ which depicts such a maniac covered in blood. Not happy to be out-cretined  Tesco also produced a ‘Psycho Patient’ orange jumpsuit with the word ‘committed’ emblazoned upon it. Full marks to their buying teams for going retro and believing they were stocking stores in 1950s America.

Now clearly this is a shameful representation of the continued stigma around mental health. Plenty of wonderful tweeters took to their phones, tablets, laptops and, in rare exceptions (like those of us working in companies with the IT infra-structure fresh from the ark) a PC to condemn the retailers. Not only that but to seize the opportunity to observe what this says about how far we all have to come before anyone with a mental health problem can say so openly and get the support they need instead of living in fear of the newly coined Asda promise that “people will be running away from you” – catchier than ‘Every Little Helps’ you have to agree.

And so I come to #mentalpatient. People from all walks of life posting pictures of themselves showing their ‘costumes’: Mums in jeans for the school run, stock brokers in sharp suits, students with green hair, we saw it all including a fantastic array of funny faces and comedy hats. Proving brilliantly that there is no such thing as a stereotype of someone with a mental health problem and also that, those that do, tend to possess a pretty awesome sense of humour.

Needless to say both of these retail giants have removed the offending items from sale as a result and money has been promised to mental health charities. A result for people power and Twitter. #nicelydone

Now where can I get my costume for my daughter to wear to her 6^th birthday pole-dance party I wonder??? 

Curves and clothes

So I felt that my last posting wasn’t very upbeat …well yes sorry I wasn’t in an

upbeat place. Not to say I am suddenly, inexplicably filled with joy or that the wonder

of the world has suddenly revealed itself to me but none the less I think a second self

absorbed posting of that nature would do my subscription numbers no favours!

So today I was going to talk to you about….plus size fashion! Bear with me though

skinnies, don’t stop reading - this will at least stop you reaching for the next

doughnut.

Now being a larger lady (call it curvy, cuddly, burlesque even the truth is that I’m

pretty fat) shopping for clothes has long presented challenges. Not least because I

would prefer, it all possible, not to dress like a) a man, b) my mum or c) a marquee.

You see I’m not an old lady and I quite like fashion. I also have a body shape

(including a waist….I know the shock!), hips and boobs so when I see the drab array

presented in plus size sections I always die just a bit inside.

Let me tell you about my recent trip to our nation’s capital: home of fashion houses

from the great designers, flag ship stores for our best high street retailers and unique

stores to suit all tastes. The city of inclusiveness where diversity rules and anything

goes right? Well no not really if you fancy a bit of shopping for your mightily

sexy size 24 frame. I was travelling with a friend of mine so girly shopping was an

obvious decision. Now my friend is 24, 5’10” with stunning thick dark hair and a

very glamorous size 8 …she’s kind and funny too (it’s a friendship on the rocks to be

honest). So we headed to Piccadilly Circus and to the shopping mecca that is Regent

Street.

We begin with Barbour. Now the fact that nothing here fits is OK. It’s for horsey

types right? And I accept there isn’t a pony out there ready for the challenge of me as

a rider and frankly I have limited aspirations of dressing like the queen or following

equestrian pursuits.

Now we tried Hobbs. Classic tailoring, beautiful clothes and here starts my grumbles

I’m afraid. This store is not full of mini skirts or crop tops. It is not a purveyor

of lycra vests nor thigh clenching micro shorts. These clothes are clothes for

women, real women with women’s bodies that go in and out. Women with style

and sophistication – maybe a little like me? Well no actually because if you break

beyond the giddy heights of a size 18 you’ll be with me looking at the bags. Nice bags

though. I suppose I could always wear a sack and carry a Hobbs bag? That could be a

look.

Next up was L’Occtaine – hand cream always fits thank goodness.

So on we go and there’s French Connection. Now I really love these clothes. So

classy, so well designed and made but even before entering I know this will be

an ‘accessories only’ store for me. Now the good bit here is that I could indulge

vicariously through my friend. In fact she became my doll (and that of the Spanish

dresser and shop assistant). Oh to be the woman in the shop that the assistants want to

help and dress up. Don’t get me wrong I’ve had very helpful assistants try to grease

me into items and offer me tips to hide where the misplaced bulges showed but I don’t

think it was their idea of fun!

We started with our gorgeous doll in a mini dress. Oh yes she looked hot but I’m

pleased to report that long legs aren’t always a blessing and she really couldn’t have

bent over even to wash the dishes without giving a glimpse of her derriere – not that is

was the kind of dress you wash dishes in but you get my drift.

So next it’s a jumpsuit. Now this was a wow moment. It’s not quite like on X Factor

where the weird looking geek turns out to be the next Beyonce because if you saw

my friend you would have expected her to look good in the jumpsuit but still it did go

beyond even my expectations. Jeesh she looked hot. How awesome to walk out of a

changing room to a series of ‘wows’, jammy girl. Anyway we had a lot of fun trying

it on with various necklaces and jackets before my stunning friend was convinced

enough that her model like figure didn’t look ‘too hippy’ in this gorgeous piece

of tailoring. Purchase made and placed in one of those bags that you’d be pleased

enough to pay for on its own. A bag that you’d happily show off. Anyway in their

early thirties remember that your PE kit in high school had to be in such a bag – yes

OK I had to buy gloves from River Island to get one!

So we turn our attention to a high street label because my mate has spent out in

French Connection and we’re yet to fit an item of clothes I can get into. H&M is

our choice. Now H&M do a plus size collection. This used to be called ‘Big and

Beautiful’ but they seem to have dropped that and soon we’ll hear why I think that is.

My friend scans the store directory to establish where we may find the tiny fragment

of items designed for my voluptuous figure. I tell her this isn’t needed – I know where

it will be. In the basement, back corner, near maternity wear. I’m right of course and

so down into the dark corner we head. I only assume this method of tried and tested

retail layout is so the ‘normal folk’ don’t have to see us shopping – could their eyes

bleed from the very sight of a dress in a size starting with 2 maybe?

Now, as we approach said section my friend looks a little confused. I understand

this because it does look upon first inspection that we are approaching menswear as

a large collection of oversized check shirts hangs in front of us. I reassure her that

this is indeed what the fashion industry believes is what I would choose to wear. We

peruse the selection of loose fitting, badly cut tops and baggy jeans. I select a jumper

to try on. It’s suitably designed to hide all of my bulk under a tent like shape which

overlooks any shape I may want to present. It fits! Shame that instead of ‘wow’ the

best either of us can muster is that it looks ‘comfy’ – a bit like that sack I suggested

earlier really. It covers me head to toe in fluff so I decide I’ll pass. Sadly as I wasn’t

a doll for the sales assistant she looks blankly at me and says she has no lint roller so

I have to buy one and stand in the underwear section rollering myself down but that’s

not an issue as nothing in that section fits either so it’s not like I would be shopping.

The only saving grace was that when my friend tried on a size 10 dress she could

barely breathe – we all have those changing room moments after all.

Thank goodness for lovely friends who’ll let me play ‘dress up’ and for the fact that

when we left the shops we went on to see Mcfly at the Royal Albert Hall who were

truly amazing – even the seats were big enough.

Vive the plus size revolution….. J