Stylishness, for the thin only?

I think it comes down to a lack of imagination. How could anyone plus size (that means more than UK dress size 14) could possibly look stylish? Can they be fashionable? Vogue is celebrating 90 years of publishing, just how many plus size females have graced the front cover of their magazine? I bet you wont need two hands to count.

Fern Britton has always looked styish to me. What she wears always seems to complement her shape. Her choice or a some one in the wardrobe department, doesn't really matter, she looks good. And would you consider Dawn French? She must know something during her time at the helm of Sizeteen47.

Society is still clinging on to thin is beautyful and I thought diversity was the key!

Quality NOT Size

Organisers for Madrid`s fashion week have imposed a ban on skinny, waif-like models on their catwalk, with minimum BMI requirements and doctors backstage turning away over 30 models for being TOO skinny!

“Fashion is a mirror and many teenagers imitate what they see on the catwalk,” said regional official Concha Guerra.

This is great news! London fashion week has NOT proposed the same ban and designers joke about there being no food available for the models - just champagne and lettuce! Whilst I understand that the clothes are made showing off a slim, unbloated stomach, I feel this encourages the so called `heroin-chic` look.

Please take the time to read the blog maintained by the Philippine's chapter of the International Size Acceptance Association Sari-Saring Pinoy where she goes into alot more detail as Italy threatens to propose a similar ban for Milan Fashion Week....

As they say, they are not looking for plus size models, they are looking to promote a healthy body image.

Now that`s got to be a step in the right direction hasn`t it?

Keep safe ;)

Splendour

Thought on Size Acceptance

I have been thinking a bit about what size and self acceptance actually is. My first thought was that they are two things, size acceptance and self acceptance. Size acceptance is something other people must do. Society must accept that there are large people and make sure they are included. Much the same the lesbian, gay and coloured people have had to accomplish. Self acceptance is, as it says, accepting who you are and understanding your own body.

I saw on called 30 Years Ago Today a statement I had not heard before but realise is true.

'...fat activists are discarding the term "size acceptance" in favor of Health at Any
Size.'

To me that makes much more sense. Lets not rely on society changing, that is not going to happen any time soon. Instead the focus is back on those who are large. I am not sure if that is good or bad! 'Health at any size' to me says that those who are large can be (and most are) healthy. Even thin people can be un-healthy.

To focus on health is dealing with the number one myth, 'fat' people are lazy and have no self control. Most of the time there are underlying genetic and disease related conditions which are beyond the control of the large person, yet many are healthy and fit. So perhaps we should stop trying to change societies view point which does seem like an ant trying to move a wall. Instead how about showing just how healthy big people are? Taking care of yourself what ever your size, must be the number on priority for anyone.

Thoughts about self love

I found a site I found really cool EMoms at Home and being a mother myself took a deeper look and found a great site!
They do these sort of blogjolts and the latest one is for Passion Meets Purpose by Kammie, a life and business coach, who better to talk about self acceptance, self love in particular which I take to be similar to self acceptance and therefore not far from fat acceptance/size acceptance.

Kammie asks the question, along with a friend "What do you think about yourself?" Cause basically it's not important what other people think about you that matters but how you value yourself, how you make you feel...

Take a look, I know I will be on a more frequent basis....

I married a man I met over 11 years ago on a Big Girl's Dating Site!

Feeling more positive today! Sorry about my sounding off yesterday - venting....!

Anyway I wanted to tell you about the most special person in my life, my husband...

Met him on a Sunday, the 15th May 1995 spent all day with him, dinner, the cinema, shopping centre, a couple of parks - the works - we chatted about EVERYTHING! Religion, sex I mean everything you probably shouldn't on a first date - the regular taboos!

Didn't put him off - saw him again on the Tuesday, had too much to drink so slept on his couch and drove home Wednesday morning.

Got my parents to invite him over for dinner Wednesday night - he came to dinner and never left!

I met his parents that weekend, his grandparents, his sister, the neices, the lot!
Got through all that quite well and we moved into our own rented house with my five year old from a previous relationship 1st June, yes only 2 weeks later!

Pregnant by September, gave birth in early June, fell pregnant again and gave birth the following May. Got married that September 1997 - Princess Diana's funeral day - but I couldn't help that - it was a great day despite that!

Moved to France October 1998 and had our last child (the VERY LAST I MADE SURE OF THAT!!!) February 2001.

Life can be hard sometimes and life can deal some rubbish hands but you got to keep on playing the game.... the results have got to be worth it - he puts up with me even though I have rheumatoid arthritis and am in a wheelchair even though I'm only 36 - life could be worse I suppose and I know it is for alot of people out there...so got to keep smiling and taking each day as it comes!

Keep yer peckers up...! (or your chins if you haven't got peckers!)

Love from Splendour

Crap day!

How come just when you think you are getting along fine something comes along and bites you on the arse and makes you feel crap?

Nothing in particular. Just a bad day I suppose. I'm 36 years old and in a wheelchair and I've had the battle of phoning all the wheelchair suppliers trying to find one to fit my wide backside in....

It seems that the link hasn't yet been made between the fact that you might actually need a wheelchair for a reason unrelated to your obesity but which has created the vicious circle meaning you are immobile therefore unable to take as much exercise as you'd like so you need a larger wheelchair.

The temporary chair I have at the moment is for up to 120kg (my latest shock at the dietician is that I now weigh 166kg with a BMI of 56!) so I push the plastic sides up against the wheels and so the motion of the wheels then creates burns on my thighs.... not a great way to get about but better than nothing!

I was in a positive frame of mind when told I needed to be in a wheelchair. At least I would now be able to accompany my young family on outings instead of being left at home or impeding their sorties!

But then I realised in surfing the net and phoning suppliers just how difficult it was to find a chair to fit.

My poor husband has somewhat borne the brunt of it today. Maybe I just shouldn't have got out of bed! I'm back on morphine, so that helps, but I sometimes feel that makes me feel as if I'm being pushed sideways or that I'm not really in my body.

I know I should feel grateful, worse things could happen. At least I'm around to see my 4 growing children enjoy their lives - I just feel that at 36 years old I want more out of my life!

Sorry for the rant!

Love from Splendour

Wheelchair Bound

I've not been very well lately. I had blood tests and they show liver damage although I'm not a drinker, I have a drink every now and again for a special occasion but not on a regular basis.

Also, I've had pneumonia - the second time I've had it in the summer - very strange in my opinion - I thought most people got that sort of thing in the winter! I've always been out of the ordinary me!! lol lol

Anyway, I've moved house - into a bungalow with plenty of garden with beautiful vine canopies and well established wisteria which is my favourite when it's in flower! We have a swimming pool too so with this amazing heat we spend alot of time in it!

We have in fact more or less moved into the garden! With a gas barbecue we eat all our main meals outside, when we don't go to the various night markets there are in the area where you can do your fruit and veg shopping and eat your main meal too, with soup offered by the stallholders and other stands where you can by mussels (moules marinieres) and chips or kebabs and sausages and even delicious salads (salade de gesiers) of the region. The one we go to is in our village but all the villages around us have their own on different evenings so you could manage it so that you never eat at home! There's music, wine, eau de vie (almost pure alcohol!) and strawberries and melons as well as the local cheeses to choose from! I love it, the kids get to roam around and play in a safe environment and we get to have a calm evening just dishing out the odd 2 euros for their soft drinks!

We have barbecues on other nights, except for Friday evenings where we meet up with a large group of friends, about 25 of us, for an evening at the local bar and there's a pizza van that turns up so we pre-order our pizzas and eat at the bar with our fresh glasses of 'demi-peche' (beer with peach sirop - delicious!) or a simple beer.... It makes for a fun night out and it's something we do even throughout the winter when the organised events tend to dry up - unless you like the lottos (bingo) which offer huge prizes like duck, pigs and even a leg of beef! Well, we are in the country!

I'm now in a wheelchair, and the largest one we could find is still a bit tight for me, but it's still better than nothing - I'm looking for a wider wheelchair or even an electric one but don't seem to be having much luck! My arthrose has spread through the cartilege in my back to my knees and ankles and so the wheelchair has become a necessity!

I am of the opinion that this isn't necessarily a hindrance mind you - I used to not go out much because I couldn't walk far, or my husband and the children wouldn't go out places where there was alot of walking because they didn't want me to feel bad about being unable to join them. But now that I have the chair, the possibilities are endless! I can go to car boot sales (vide greniers they are called here) and shop to my heart's content! I can join them on outings and we have got into a programme of going for an evening stroll - well, of course I don't stroll - I wheel along! But at least ot means I've got more freedom than I had before which can't be bad can it?

Love to all - Splendour

Human For Sale!

I found a cool site Human for Sale and did the little questionnaire for a laugh!

I got the following results:

I am worth $1,490,230 on HumanForSale.com.

Apparently, you get points depending on how you answer certain questions ranging from height and weight to education and income.

I don't think I did too bad considering the most expensive female got valued at $2,968,140 and she was 21 years old, with a doctorate and weighed 137 lbs....

For a change I like this!

I'm obviously very good value! You get over twice the weight of woman for half the price - sounds like a 'two for the price of one' advert don't you think? Or even a case of twice as much woman for half the price!

All harmless fun!

Weight Loss Surgery and Health Problems

I made a small comment on the item written here by Emerson who has brought home my own weight loss surgery experiences, so I thought I would share them with you. It's slightly therapeutic to be able to share this with someone in the hope that if it makes just one person think that little bit harder about opting for weight loss surgery then it will have done more than I had hoped!

I had appendicitis and was hospitalised. Now I weighed about 160kgs back then (don't know that is in pounds or stone sorry!) and the doctor made me feel so bad about my weight and the difficulties that they had had whilst removing my appendix that when he suggested gastric banding I thought it might just be the solution for me.

He leant me a video, which was pretty ghastly, where I could watch the operation being performed. The operation obviously went well but when I could see what the actual adipose layers looked like as the surgeons cut through the outer flesh to get to the stomach, and all the fat just floating around - it reminded me of butter ghee, it was obviously a film destined to shock you into surgery. Either that , or plainly put you off the idea of eating forever!

Just in case you don't know what gastric banding entails it is where the stomach is separated into 2 pouches by the gastric banding which has silicon pumped in via a 'port' in your side, near to the rib cage. This means the amount of silicon can be adapted according to your weight loss requirements. If you reach a plateau in your weight loss they can add silicon and therefore tighten the band lessening the available cavity so that you cannot eat much or if weight loss is too rapid they can remove some of the silicon and loosen the banding so that your stomach capacity is increased and you can eat more.

I had the various tests, blood tests, psychiatric testing etc and was accepted by my medical insurance to go ahead with the operation which was performed by laparoscopy and performed more or less a month to the day after my appendix removal.

I had no doubts whatsoever that I wanted to go ahead with this operation - having read plenty of info on various pro surgery and pro diet sites and also on anti surgery/anti diet sites, I also read through plenty of information on one of my favourite Size and Self Acceptance websites - SizeNet.com where I was able to read objective articles that were neither pro nor anti diet or weight loss but more geared towards the pro information idea. Anyway, I was armed with all my research and yet I still wanted to go ahead with the surgery. I was having back problems and decided that my quality of life would only be improved by a bit of weight loss. As one tends to, you read the words of other people who've had problems with their surgery and think that it won't happen to you.

Well, from day one I started to lose weight. Then within a couple of months I found out I was pregnant with a much wanted baby, after having suffered 2 miscarriages previously to the surgery.

I lost weight pure and simply because every time I saw food, smelled food, ate food I felt sick and on plenty of occasions vomited. This was linked to my pregnancy as well as the fact that I had just had surgery.

My consultant was happy with my news, or at least he seemed it at our monthly check-ins and even advised me not to worry about trying to follow the eating program... yes, I didn't realise that pre surgery, I had surgery - MAJOR risk and then had to follow a DIET as well! Now, I don't know about you, but if I was any good at blooming diets in the first place I wouldn't have NEEDED the surgery!

I put away the diet sheet and carried on shedding the weight due to my severe morning sickness. At each visit the consultant was happier and happier and I felt that maybe my daily suffering was not for nothing!

I had various major medical problems during pregnancy, linked to my pregnancy and had to have total bed rest then hospitalisation at 33 weeks due to very high blood pressure. I had Intra Venous drips and medication at the hospital, nothing seemed to get it down. Then I started feeling very giddy and all went black. Realising the urgency, I was given steroid injections for the baby and whisked off by emergency helicopter to a hospital in one of the big cities where they had more facilities.

My veins collapsed due to exhaustion and my high blood pressure, and lack of vision were put down to pre-eclampsia and an IV drip was set up in the only vein they could find - the juggular. I was trying to keep calm in particular for my husband who was at my side and didn't understand a word of what was going on (he doesn't speak much French and we were in a French hospital!) but understood the urgency of all the doctors and nurses flapping around me!

I had an emergency caesarian and although I had asked for my fallopian tubes to be put out to retirement as it were, due to the fact I was not under my own OB/GYN he wouldn't do it even though I had the signed authorisation in my file... but that's another story!

I had a lovely little boy and all was well. He spent a week in the neonatal special care baby unit and my husband would wheel me in my wheelchair over to breast feed him on a 3 hourly basis.

My blood pressure came down and everything went back to normal.

Or so I thought. I thought that my no longer being pregnant would mean that I didn't suffer the morning sickness any more. You'd have thought so too wouldn't you? But no, I carried on with the nausea and sickness.

I lived with it for almost a year, until things got so bad I couldn't drink a drop of water without vomiting, exceptionally painful when the stomack was empty.

I had had a fall during pregnancy that had given me a herniated disk and severe sciatica so I stopped breast feeding when I was put on Morphine for pain relief. Luckily, I have a very understanding partner, my husband, already looking after our other 3 children took over looking after the littlest one too. My morphine doses were upped until I was asleep almost 24 hours a day. One day, the morphine stopped working and so I was rushed by car to the nearest hospital.

After various MRIs and body scans it was decided they would operate immediately on the now very big herniated disc.

The operation went well and when the nurse came to ask me about the menu I required (they're pretty good in French hospitals - a bit like a hotel with medical services on demand!) I explained the trouble with my digestion.

So, after more scans on my stomach and a barium meal that wouldn't stay down, it was found that I had almost inverted my stomach. My vomiting throughout pregnancy had meant I had almost turned my stomach inside out and the larger pouch of stomach to the other side of the band had almost been pulled through the band into the smaller division of my stomach.

Another emergency operation was carried out where doctors removed and replaced the band itself. This operation went well, I recovered well, and was back home within a couple of days or so.

I started my monthly visits with the surgeon who had replaced the banding, the surgeon w ho had performed the first operation had moved on elsewhere by this time.

However, my 'port' on my left side was not healing well. The doctor seemed unconcerned saying that all would get better in it's own time but when I told him it was leaking a tea like substance he assured me it was a fatty fluid and not to worry.

In between visits to the specialist, I went for my Christmas Holidays to my parents in England. Whilst there, a sort of bump or blister came up on the port and within a couple of hours it became a very small hole, about the size of the needle that was used previously to inject silicon into the band.

I went to Accident and Emergency as this was in the middle of the night and I was getting very anxious. In the couple of hours I spent in the waiting room the hole got bigger and bigger.

I ended up having the box hanging almost out of me when I got to see a doctor after a 4 hour wait.

Result was that the box had been rejected by my body and they had to remove it, the surgeon was going on holiday for 2 weeks the following day so the decision was made to remove just the box and leave the band and tubing for another time as he would have wanted to be there for any emergency should the operation not go according to plan.

Surgery was performed early on Christmas Eve. I got up early on Christmas Day and put on my make up and painted my nails and did my hair, so that I looked healthy when the doctors came round and they let me go home to recuperate with strict instructions not to do ANYTHING but rest.

I had to have the wound packed by a nurse on a daily basis so she came to the house to do this every day. The wound was VERY deep but needed to be kept open as there had been infection and the surgeons couldn't stitch me up with infection in the wound.

I still had an open wound when I went for my follow up operation in April to remove the band from the stomach and the tubing that had linked it to the port. I had requested that it not be replaced as by this time I was exhausted from all the procedures and the whole experience with the gastric surgery had left me feeling depressed.

I tried my trick of getting up early and putting on my make up and doing my hair the following day, I know I feel better when I look better, but something just didn't FEEL right. I felt flat. I had no energy and was ready to burst into floods of tears.

The doctors made their rounds and came to see me - I was fully expecting them to release me, but they informed me I was still severly anaemic (which explained the lack of energy) - I had two blood transfusions of 5 units each time over a period of two days and left the hospital still slightly anaemic but on ferrous acid tablets to bring the anaemia in line!

I was quite unwell after this operation and it took me a long time to get back on my feet as it were. I was used to getting up and getting on with things as soon as possible after my previous operations but this time wasn't the same. My body was not going to be dictated to and it took it's own good time to recuperate.

I still have gastric problems, including irritable bowel syndrome and gastric reflux. Upon having a gastroscopy last November the doctor thought I still had the banding from the state of the inside of my stomach, adhesions and a 'lake of gastric acids' - his words not mine...

I take medication for my stomach on a regular basis and still have episodes where I am unable to eat as my stomach acids flare up ( a problem I never encountered prior to gastric surgery) they are still keeping an eye on me and due to that and ongoing back problems I am about to be declared officially invalid at 70%.

I walk with a stick now due to my back problems, but it's the stomach problems that cause the most inconvenience in my daily life. I'm putting my life back together, still trying out different medications to help ease the symptoms I have been left with since my gastric surgery.

I'm still obese, I plateaued at about 140kgs and don't lose or gain weight although I can't eat properly even now.

When I read articles like the one Emerson refers to - Lynda Taylor, I feel ill and angry.

At the end of the day I wish I hadn't had the gastric surgeries at all. But I did and I take full responsibility for my decision. I took the risk and it didn't work. For others it does work.

In my own honest and humble opinion, taking the risk that it work is TOO high a risk. I thank my lucky stars. I have a poorer quality of life than prior to my surgery, but I have a quality of life - I am still alive.

(In memory of Lynda Taylor and the thousands of men and women who aren't so lucky.)

Just how many more....

It is well known that weight loss surgery kills people. If the actual surgery does'nt do it then post operative care will. Just ask the husband of Lynda Taylor, his wife died after having surgery to help her lose weight. Is being fat really that bad? For some women it really is, so bad that they would rather risk everything then continue to be the size that they are.

I think alot of people forget that weight loss surgery is a risky operation. No matter who many websites quote figures and statistics about how bad it is and what the chances are of walking out of the hospital, if there is any chance of success then someone is going to risk it. For them it is worth it.

If you are one of them, thinking about taking that risk and willing to chance it then take a look here and see if you are prepared to change your mind.

A wonderful sense of community spirit

I've just returned from drinks taken in the Firehouse in our village. It's half past nine at night and we've just buried Louis.

The funeral took place in his home village, St Cernin de l'Herm and the turnout was amazing! The crowds that filled the church seats, standing room at the back of the church and the upstairs area meaning more than 30 people had to stand outside during the ceremony.

A wonderful ceremony. Not morbid. Plenty of tears, but I hope that many people's tears were for the same reason's as mine, in celebration of an active life. I also felt somewhat silly with myself as I felt I shouldn't been quite so fragile - every time a kind word was uttered about his life, like the glorious expression of love from his sister and the kindness and compassion from his recently ex girlfriend. I'd be surprised if there was a dry eye...

The priest read a passage about the raising of Lazarus, reminded us all the true meaning of sympathy - a word coming from the greek word to share, and reminded us we have many fond memories of Louis but should not allow ourselves to be swamped in nostalgia as that can be harmful, life is eternal, Louis' life here with us has been shorter than it could have been but life is eternal.

I envy those who have a solid Christian belief. I feel I have a christian attitude and feel that for me and my method of life it is adequate but at times when life seems unjust to be able to accept that God has not prevented such a terrible event overwhelms me, I'm sorry but I cannot grip it.

I don't mean this entry to my blog to turn into a question of faith. I believe in Destiny, if it was meant to be, it will be. I admire people with strong beliefs and am sure they must feel soothed by them but I'm afraid I ask questions and have, despite an 8 year Convent education, always learnt that I should have my own opinion, that it is right to ask questions and not rest until one is satisfied. This however contradicts my opinion of religion.

What I do find spectacular, is the wonderful sense of community spirit, the way that people have cocooned the Louis' family while they were awaiting family members from England and Scotland. They brought round meals, cakes, sympathy and a shoulder to cry on. The village and all the surrounding villages, anyone who knew Louis, his sister, his ex (but still very close) girlfriend as well as his parents' came out today to support the family in their pain, to show they knew and love not only Louis, but his family.

I am proud to be a member of such a community. Proud that when someone needs a hand we all club together and do our very best.

That was how Louis would have liked it. That was how Louis lived. That is how Louis will forever be remembered in our hearts, a tender, special person who I am proud to say I knew.

Is it a waste of life to die so young?

Horrified is not really an adequate word to describe my emotions when I heard the news that the son of dear friends of ours, also a friend in passing himself, has died after a catastrophic vehicular accident.

Louis Kent MacNamara was a young chap in his early twenties, he would have been 26 years old in November, I've known him since he was about 12 years old and seen him develop and grow into a charming young lad, a credit to his family and friends he participated fully in village life and was a fully integrated and fluent member of a rural French community.

Louis was a volunteer fireman, that is to say that he worked his usually daily paid job and was a fireman in his spare time and whenever the village siren went off to indicate an accident, fire, wasps nest to clear or an old person who had fallen.

He was also an ambluanceman for a taxi and ambulance company some 20 miles from home.

It was at approximately 6h50 on Saturday morning on his way home from a party that Louis lost control of his vehicle and was unable to steer clear of a tree that his vehicle hit with such dreadful consequences. Whether a deer or wild boar came into his pathway causing him to swerve we will never know.

He was transported, in very poor condition, by his fellow volunteer firemen to the accident and emergency hospital at Sarlat where he died of his injuries in the early hours of Sunday. Just happenned to be Mother's Day here in France.

I have had a good old bawl (well, several) thinking what a waste of a young life, and thinking of my own son, not that much younger than Louis himself, empathising with Louis' own mother. But upon reflection, I think that maybe the family and his close friends, after the shock and horror pass, will be able to recognise the value his all be it too short life had for all that knew him.

Let me tell you a little story, we had a major house fire 2 years ago almost to the day, and Louis attended the scene of the fire as did his fellow firefighters. With help from firefighters from the nearby town (we only live in a small village of less than 1000 inhabitants) the fire was successfully extinguished. With no loss of life, not even the cats, dog, fish or birds that were saved by our gallant firefighters. This was enough reason to be proud of Louis and his fellow firemen, but Louis returned to the burnt out house a couple of days later to offer aid to my husband with the clearing up! Not because he was a close mate of my husband, just because he was that kind of guy.

Louis lived in the village along from us, a couple of miles away, but we often heard of him through his father, a good friend, or his long-term girlfriend who had the local flower shop until recently. He had only recently separated from his girlfriend of 7 years and they were still extremely close after having matured together.

Louis had found his place in the world and had found a talent for caring for people and it showed. A fairly timid young man, he was well spoken and always had a good word to say. He somehow found the time to take flying lessons, play rugby and go climbing. A lad who could not stay still in one place for long!

His life has been cut horrifically short. But it has not been wasted in my opinion. His short time amongst us demonstrated a consideration others are not gifted with, he was someone you could be proud to have known. In my eyes and the eyes of all who knew him, whether as a friend or acquaintance would not say otherwise, he was just such an all round cool guy.

In fact, I have heard comments from people wondering how he managed to condense so much compassion into what turned out to be a short life, but a full and lively one.

We can only imagine what strengths he would have gone on to prove if his destiny had been otherwise. But we cannot regret the time we were given with him. A loyal son, a loving brother and a caring partner.

Louis Kent MacNamara, fondly remembered, sorely missed.

History of an Extrovert

I've always been fairly outgoing I suppose, even as a child I remember my school report cards coming home with the standard 'would do better if she were to prioritise her schoolwork over her social life...' But then again, I did spend 8 years at the Convent of the Sacred Hearts!

I think I really came into my own when I was 12 or 13. When I met my first 'real' boyfriend - I'll call him Bastien to protect his innocence... or pride! Either way, it wasn't altogether a success as I recall, I'd never had a French kiss before and my SO-CALLED friend took great pride in telling her boyfriend who then told mine!

We went for a wander down what we all called 'Lover's Lane' (original hey?) and I got the lesson in how to kiss. It was pretty yucky I thought but he seemed keen, I hope his technique has improved since then mind you!

After several other ventures into kissing and petting, at 17 years old, with the Convent education behind me, I met and nearly wed a swarthy Frenchman who wooed my knickers off! He moved to England for me and it didn't work out but there you go that's life!

But I had found out something I excelled at, or so I'm told! LOL I had a few regular boyfriends and, my father being a military man there wasn't exactly a shortage of candidates if you get my drift!

I was a big girl from about 13/14 years old, firstly I just wouldn't stop with breast development but then the rest fought to catch up! I never experienced any teasing or tormenting but then as I say, I'm a fairly outgoing type of girly so they wouldn't dare!

I met who I thought was the love of my life at the ancient age of 18 and was pregnant by 19. We however split up and I brought up my little boy on my own, with alot of help from my parents! I went back to college - finished my education and went out to work.

We tried moving to France a couple of times and although the summers were great fun the place was like a mortuary in the winter, the locals were all old folk and they seemed to be dropping like flies!

So we winged it back to old Blightly (UK) and I met my now husband through an introduction agency called PLUMP PARTNERS, he was number 3 of my 5 dates for the weekend - needless to say I didn't get as far as meeting the other two guys!

I was so enamoured of this gent, that we spent 12 hours talking, kissing and petting. On our second date I stayed over, our third date he came round for dinner to meet my parents and he never went home! Between the first date and that one there was a grand total of 5 days!

We moved into a house together, me and my son with my new 'boyfriend' after sleeping on the floor in various mates houses and flats and sharing a single mattress for quite a while... luxury!

We met in the May, I fell pregnant in the September, gave birth to our daughter in the June and fell pregnant immediately afterwards! I gave birth to another son in the following May and we got married in the September before moving back over here to France to re-try to live my childhood dream.

So far it's worked, 1 more child later we've decided the brood is big enough and are living a quiet life (other than our ventures to Paris!!) in rural France!

Although I came across as a fairly self confident person, my husband found my sensitive points and set to work on them. I couldn't believe that someone's initial attration be BECAUSE I was well padded, rather than despite it! I do truly believe there are so many more men out there who prefer a bit of meat on the bone (excuse the pun - unintended I assure you!) but that peer pressure has enforced this 'ideal' upon them of being admired as blokes if they've got a 'fit chick' on their arm... HEY YOU LOT - I AM A FIT CHICK THANK YOU VERY MUCH! At least my hubby thinks so and I repeat it to myself in the mirror every now and again when I'm feeling low!

I've worked for a while as a Big Bunny Girl for a Night Club in London and LOVED every moment of it. I've been on various chat shows in England, the London Newspapers and National magazines, even on a German chat show filmed in Holland. I've been in a couple of beauty contests and although I've never won a prize I felt it was enough to have got through to the finals and to have strutted my stuff on the podium! I now am an assistant moderator for a French libertine site with over 5000 members - we hold parties in a popular part of Paris (see other posts) every couple of months or so - proof alone that there is a market there - that people are becoming, slowly, more prepared to admit to what they like and what they want.

I don't know if I look sexy, I don't know what looking sexy is really... I don't think it's a size and that's for sure! I think sexiness comes from inside and can be found inside us all, it's just a matter of how deep it is and how far we are prepared to go to find it!

I just thank God there are some blokes out there who are self confident enough to display who and what they actually find attractive, some guys like fat chicks, some like slim ones, voila - there we go, simple as that!

THE END.... or is it?

My revelation of the weekend!

To follow up on last night's posting - as I was too tired - knackered in fact - to be able to type correctly - I decided to cut it short and take up the rest of the story today!

Anyway, where was I? I remember, I had told you about my evening at the Sultana Club in Paris with my friends from Charnelle Attitude... I think I glossed over our exploits so as not to be too sexually specific as to render this blog an adult one! But I think you will have understood and got the general gist of what the night was like - in particular if you've visited the websites for the Sultana and Charnelle Attitude!

Well, my hubby and I had travelled up to Paris by train, 4 hours instead of 8 or 9 by car, on Thursday and spent the evening chatting with our good friend Miss Botero and her charming companion BoBlack who run the Charnelle Attitude website, we had pizza and plenty of vodka and caramel toffee drink and I went to bed worse the wear for alcohol - a good start to a great weekend!

After clearing up a somewhat muggy head (not quite a hangover although one was deserved!) we set about preparing ourselves for our outing to another club Cris et Chuchottements where we were to partake in a BDSM afternoon - a first for us - with a club run only on Friday's between 1500 hours and 2130 hours - animated by the delicious Christine in French maid's outfit and skyscraper heels and Philippe, The Marquis Noir (very talented and thoroughly charming!) were afternoon sessions called Les Gouters du Divin Marquis (The Divine Marquis Afternoon Tea) - well I'm sure you've guessed there was no cake or tea on offer here! No, but by jove you might have felt you needed it after passing a somewhat active afternoon exploring the club and it's pleasures which I hasten to add were not exclusively for the plus sizer but all different types of people from all walks of life.

That's what I call size acceptance... the fact that size wasn't even an issue at all and didn't even need to be thought about - you were accepted for what you were and who you were, what you like doing and who you like doing it with - as simple as that really!

There were plenty of rooms to enjoy oneself including one with a gyne table, another with a love swing, cosy corners and cages under the stairs, all completely decorated in the baroque style so typically associated with fetish and Paris itself.

On to my amazing revelation - many people who know me think I am fairly dominating - my husband included. Well, I think they all had the shock of their lives (but not as much as me) when I discovered the delights of the fine line between pain and pleasure - if you see what I mean! Bent over the gynacological table I found my husband whipping my rear end before he appeared in front of me to let me know that even though I was still being whipped it wasn't by him!! Then the Marquis Noir himself took over - professionalism entirely - he knew exactly what he was doing and it was definately not 'gung ho- here we go' but a talented and slow build up to see what my limits of acceptability were, to see how far I was willing to push it, how much I could take. I got a very good whipping I can tell you!

That was nothing mind you.... well, nearly!! lol

Then, as I had expressed an interest in (amongst other things that I SHAN'T go into detail about here!!!) hot candle wax being dripped upon my breasts, we decided to give it a try, see if I could deal with the intensity of hot wax.

Having never even dared to wax my legs before as I (thought at least) was terrified of the pain it might cause me, after the intense agony of the first few drips on to my aroused nipple I got past the pain to another level I suppose, without it sounding corny after getting past the pain it was pleasurable - no, it really was!

So now we have got mementos of our trip to Paris, of our experience with a side of me that I was unaware of myself, we have kept the wax moulds of my nipples to remind us of our weekend!

The difficult thing is though, that there's another Gouters du Marquis Noir next week... now what should I do about that?? lol

My salutations to the professionalism of a Great Master!!

Have a good day!

A rather tiring weekend!

Yes, it's been a weekend to remember alright! I am a moderator on the French libertine website www.charnelle-attitude.com and I help animate the chat and the administrative side of running such a group - as well as partaking of the parties which we hold in a club in the Pigalle area of Paris, well known for it's - erm - 'nightlife' - you know the area - near the Folies Bergeres where the famous cancan girls strutt their stuff!

Well, our Charnelle evenings are for us larger, more amply padded girlies (and guys) and our admirers both FAs and FFAs come together to revel in each others company in a club situation - there are 2 bars and several 'cuddle' corners and even a jacuzzi that welcomes up to 15 of us big babes at a time (or less with male company!), a hammam, a sauna, showers and even a BDSM room complete with St Andrews cross which even I made a little use of this time!!

The party went really well, as they usually do, with everyone in good spirits and those that wanted to partake of the pleasures could do so, others who didn't did not feel out of place as there were 2 cool discos and the bars to keep them occupied too.

Basically it's a place where big girls, their admirers and partners can come together in an ambiance where they don't feel they are being stared at or discriminated against because they are admitting and enjoying they have a sexual side too!

Although in the depths of my heart I do feel it's a shame to have to need to create these clubs as in an ideal world we would all be born with the added ingredient of TOLERANCE so we don't have to worry about creating ghettos for big gals.

That's not size acceptance I feel, however Charnelle party nights are NOT I repeat NOT like that at all - we have thin girls and couples who come to the party because they like the ambiance and feel that we are welcoming and non judgemental like some other clubs can be at times...

Although on Friday we did go to a club that was what I would say totally size acceptance because they accept and are totally tolerant of all people... I'll tell you about that next time as I'm writing this very late at night, shattered as we've just arrived from our long train trip, so I'll elaborate further on my MAJOR revelation of the weekend another time as I CANNOT go on tonight!

Kisses

Splendour

Shout!

My name's Splendour and I'm a Super Sizer Big and Beautiful Woman - a (hopefully) pretty big girl that is! I'm learning to live my life as a larger than life woman in today's judgemental society and most of all SURVIVE despite it!

I'm about 150 kg (sorry don't know how much that is in pounds!) and I measure 5 feet and 8 inches (1m75). I am a happily married woman with four children between the ages of 5 and 16. We live in a lovely little village in the Perigord region of France, in the Dordogne area... it's wonderful, calming and fantastic in the summer!

I have my own website www.worldofsplendour.com which has the tagline A BIG GIRL'S PASSION FOR FASHION so that tells you a bit about what that's all about! I try to look around the net and find good deals and sales for large sized fashion wear, boots, jewelry, divawear and lingerie for example...

This blog, has nothing to do with fashion however, as I have set up as the ideal place to shout and moan about things I see and hear going on on the internet and in real life - where I get to praise the people that make life that little bit easier for me and the fuller size person in particular!

Any reader participation is appreciated so join in the conversation and add your point of view....

Love from Splendour