Fatty Sewing Club is a blog for fatties who make their own clothes or would like to learn! The fashion industry sucks, and it especially sucks for fat people. Rather than begging for inclusion in the thin-dominated fashion industry, I’d love to see fat fashion become a community of fat folks who…
sounds really cool!
Today I watched NostagiaChick’s review of Anastasia, and while it was (as usual) funny and pointed, it reminded me of something very important.
Sophie is a mega-hottie. Fat ladies— need a fashion idol?? LOOK NO FURTHER. Sophie I-Don’t-Know-If-She-Has-A-Last-Name of the delightful Fox movie Anastasia has it all. She’s sassy. She’s Parisian. She wears great dresses and changes five times in the 20 minutes of the movie she’s in.
I mean, seriously. Just look at her. Hot.
I always loved this character!
oh my gosh she was the best, she was so cute. I always loved the way she knocked the maid out the way of the door. This is fat Disney princess missed opportunity all over.
It’s been 370 days since Fattoo has been a part of my life.
The first week I had you, Fattoo, a woman on the bus asked me if you were real. When I told her you were, she told me that the two of us were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.
A month later, my mother met you. She smiled, nodded, and told me about how much she’d lost during her current Weight Watchers stint. She would go behind my back and tell my sister she thinks I’m going off the deep end; she’s worried about my mental health.
I took you to school with me. We met a lovely bunch of Southerners who welcomed us with their arms out stretched. One of my classmates, however, told me, “You’re not fat. You’re beautiful.” I asked him why I couldn’t be both. He said, “Heck ! There ain’t no damn reason.” I think you may have changed his life, Fattoo.
In San Francisco, you met your first kiss and I met myself in a way I never thought possible.
You empowered me, Fattoo. When my marriage, my life, was crumbling around me, I knew I had you as a part of me — representation of the power that I know I posses, even if I can’t always utilize it.
Beach parties in bikinis, blank stares through airport security, cross country trips to find true love, bouts of depression that suck the life out of me — we’ve had one heck of a year, Fattoo. I can’t wait to see what we go through next !
And, as always, a big FAT Thank You to Natalie Perkins for her beautiful design. <3
How cute is this tattoo story?
am i allowed to cry or
| — | Tigress Osborn (via boybitch) |
this is a defaced ad sponsored by children’s healthcare of atlanta. this specific ad said something along the lines of, “stocky, chubby, chunky. you’re still fat.” other ads said things like, “it’s hard to be a little girl when you’re not,” “fat kids become fat adults,” and “big bones didn’t make me this way, big meals did.”
these ads are horrific for numerous reasons, but the thing that startles me the most is the public targeting and shaming of children. i can’t even imagine how much self hatred these ads created.
choa defended itself by stating that obesity is a health problem. this tired defense of fatphobia is completely ridiculous. choa is basically saying that body hate, eating disorders like bulemia and anorexia, depression, and suicide are better than being fat.
fuck them. if you see one of these signs, please deface it if you can. fat kids rule!
LOVE this edit and LOVE the look on this kids face. They’re just like “yeah, I know I’m awesome.”
My thighs don’t just touch, they squish, they kiss, they rub, and every time I walk it’s like my thighs are making love. The only time they hurt me is when I go on long walked paths, they sweat and blister and blush a deep red and in return I do not curse them - I soak and touch and love and smear them with creams and crushed plants from my garden. A recent me did curse my thighs, the dimpled, pale, solid collumns - bloated fat and covered with hairs. I love now how they roll and stretch and squeeze my lover’s head. They’re thick and soft and wet and dry and often covered but they are me and I am them and I fucking love all the things they can do……
Maggie’s first ten adventures in one handy adventure. I’ll be talking about Maggie and fat stigma in children on the Friend of Marilyn podcast coming up later this week, so check that out as well as previous episodes of the show.
See also:
“Maggie Gains Back the Weight and Learns to Accept Her Body”
“Maggie Gets a Master’s Degree in Gender Studies”
“Maggie Joins a Roller Derby League”
“Maggie Learns to Belly Dance”
“Maggie Joins a Punk Rock Band”
“Maggie Reclaims the Word Fat”
ahh i love this
SO MUCH YES.
EEEEE! I am so glad someone(s) did something awesome with their Maggie rage.
get it gurl
And it all starts when we say no. We can say no. When someone instructs us to lose weight, to shave, to straighten our hair, to get “in shape”, to wear makeup, to wear less makeup, to dress appropriately, to dress more stylishly, no not that stylishly, to stop standing out, to stop making noise, to stop being so damn large, to stop making excuses, to stop fighting, to just get along, to just do what we tell you, to just buy into this commercial weight-loss plan, to just take these pills, to just have this cosmetic surgery, to just follow instructions, to just know that we’re doing this for your own good, to never walk alone, to never walk alone in that outfit, to never draw attention, because no one wants to see that, because no one wants to see your body, because no one wants to see you.
You can tell them no, and refuse to say more on the subject. No is always an option. It’s a small word, a difficult word, a word that speaks volumes in a single syllable, and one that gets easier to say the more you do it. It’s part of your arsenal, whether you realize it or not, and it’s a powerful weapon.
You can say no.
You don’t have to explain it.
You don’t have to apologize for it.
You can just
say
no.
| — | Lesley Kinzel (via goforthandagitate) |
Image - An outfit photo of Natalie, fat and pale skinned with swoopy blonde hair, posing in front of the boot of a white Porche wearing a cropped pleather jacket, a blue/black/grey diagonally paneled tunic, straight leg jeans and black flats.
Jacket: City Chic
Top: Big W (?)
Jeans: New Look
Shoes: Evans
Necklaces: ebay and made by me ;)A post that includes brownies, a birthday drawing, badass babes and a bike!
so many amazing things in one pic, the hair is sooooo awesome
