Rae – Hammôck

End-of-Year Review

A graphic image of orange-toned sunrise and sea with a quote on the bottom left side.

… I just checked my published posts, and it’s been a year since I’ve posted anything.

Time flies!

A lot has happened that I’ve not shared, but I’ve been writing, as always and scribbling down my ideas for business, for my life, for my home and of course, my soul.

The energy to create is always around me. From the child who wrote and coloured in the pages of her poems, to the frantic adulter who races through life from one task on the to-do list to next. However, the flurry of ideas leads to decision fatigue, and inevitably procrastination sets in.

I know this is true for many of my friends and family whose primary jobs are in the creative industry or the arts. The weight of these ideas and bringing them to fruition feels so heavy. Where do I start? Which resonates most deeply with me? Will people think it’s dumb? This cycle of wanting to do, getting ideas for actions, making lists and never completing them led me to therapy.

“To what extent are you a third wheel in your life?”
My Therapist

I was so sick of being stuck. I wanted to push through, but I felt so lonely. Everything feels overwhelming, when you don’t want to sit in feelings of pity, or worrying if you’re good enough. You want rainbows and sunshine, but you feel sad about life and how little you’ve achieved, so I switched on my screen and answered the question “What brings you to Therapy?”.

Within a few sessions of listening, he asked me a question I was taken aback by. “To what extent are you a third wheel in your life”. I instantly thought ‘I beg your pardon, me – a third wheel!’. I shuddered at the thought, and then I paused.

This comment was said in Spring and it has stayed with me ever since. The truth of his evaluation resounded in my head and the reverberations led to me to reflect on myself, my dreams, and my place in the world. If I’m honest I think it woke me up. Parts of me that felt too painful, too numb, too harsh to welcome, I now accept wholeheartedly.

It’s only through this acceptance that I was able to see the unhealed parts of me. I thought I was healed, I thought I had burned all the mouldy leftovers from relationships and unlived dreams. Haha! Aren’t we human beings funny. Honestly, I don’t believe we are ever fully healed, and I’d like to speak to whoever started that rumour.

What I’ve learnt is that healing is a process, and each day I try to understand myself better. I show myself grace and offer compassion to those around me. Minus the annoying people in the queue in Lidl, and my parent’s clutter. Sorry, I’m not perfect and I don’t care to be. I’m making mistakes, getting stuff wrong, and even hurting people’s feelings – not on purpose, of course. But ‘Ah so it go sometimes’, it is life. I’m growing and I’m doing the stuff that feeds my soul.

Trying and failing to take a picture of a butterfly. Posting the reel that I think is too long. Buying the top I really want, that’s 20 quid over budget. Scribbling my latest idea for bra design down at 3AM. Why, you may ask, are these things meaningful? I have no idea, I’m no guru. However, I will say since doing the little ideas that once seemed insignificant, since starting therapy and having a few tough love convos, I’m much lighter. I’m travelling, I’m writing, I’m a London Passista and I have a sewing plan. It pains me with cringe to say this, but …

Watch this space!

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What if I saw women who looked like me growing up?

￡12.50 was my weekly pocket money, and with that was my first independent steps toward Womanhood – my magazines.

I would buy the monthly editions of ‘Elle’, ’Vogue’, and ‘Sugar’ (which changed to ‘Cosmopolitan‘, as I grew older). These editorials felt like my lifeline. A cry away from the drab shrubbery of suburbia, a catapult into a world filled with Manolo Blahnik, Versace and Van Cleef. This intensely glamorous oasis was full of colour and creativity. It was an escape for pre-teen me. However, other than the occasional person of colour, usually from Naomi Campbell or Liya Kebede, no one looked like me, especially not with my body type.

In the early 2000s, you would be lucky to see a fuller lip in an advert, let alone a fuller bust or body. I felt so outside the sphere of beauty. There was no schema for a young black girl in London with big thighs and bigger boobs. The biggest store in my school was Tammy Girl, and I remember harassing my mum to take me there to get a pair of jeans. I was so excited! Already being named called for being the “fat”, “big boobed” girl, I was bursting at the seams to blend in with peers, at least in the arena of clothing. Well, “bursting at the seams’ was the correct phrase, coz that was my experience. At the time, I was a UK size 12 waist… but not on this high street, and not with my thighs!

Jesus and I wept that day. After being held in the changing room with my mum whilst the sales assistant ran back and forth, attempting to discover a jean that would mircaculously fit my evidently “out of this world” sized legs. This was sad and depressing time before stretch jeans. That day I went from Age 14 Tammy Girl to an Adult size 22! The size 22 was the only size that fit my thigh, but of course, it was then dropping off my size 12 waist. I was devasted! To be fair to my mum, so was she. Her face embodied all the sadness I tried to hide as she said, “We’ll try again next weekend’.

I’d like to say this was a one-off experience, but trust and believe it was the common thread of my body journey and my experience with high street shopping until I lost weight at 16. Even at my smallest (an all-over UK size 12)in the early 2010s, there was H&M with their old horrendous grading which had me buy a UK 20, and my friend (a UK 8) buy a UK 14.

So much of my worth came from how my body matched the status quo. How tall should a woman be? Should I relax my hair? What size should a black girl be to be desired by her male counterparts? Why can I find jeans easily in America? How small are your feet supposed to be? All these notions were fuelled by my own experiences, but also, what I had seen in fashion and lifestyle magazines.

They were filled with white women, barely an UK8, with Gisele Bündchen and Hedi Klum revered as the hallmark for “curvy”. The options for a size 12-14 girl being seen as beautiful seemed an impossible feat. Even in popular culture, the Pop Singers Cassie and Britney were seen as hot girls in high school, and neither of them looked like me.

Now flash forward to today, the drive and rise of plus-size models, the campaigns against eating disorders, and the wave of fuller-bodied influencers have all led to vast changes in editorials and fashion. I was blown away by the latest British Vogue cover entitled, “The New Supers“. This April edition sees not one but three Supermodels representing a range of ethnicities and sizes beyond a UK8. They are being called the new supermodels!

Paloma Elsesser, Precious Lee and Jill Kortleve appear on this April's British Vogue Cover, with a colourful scarf dangled over the right bottom corner. — Paloma Elsesser, Precious Lee and Jill Kortleve appear on this April’s British Vogue Cover.

My inner child cries for joy but, also for the pain I felt growing up. That time of my life was so much about my protection. I was bullied at school, so I cared a lot about what others thought of me, although I tried my best to hide it. Intelligence and wit were my armour, but I would go home and cry most days after school. I spent a lot of my time listening to music, and envisioning what my company would look like. I’d buy the fashion editorials and dream of my spreads being on the pages, cutting out the interesting bits. But how different would my teenage years have been if I got to see confident, strong, sexy women who looked like me?

I cannot fathom. The amount of time I spent looking in the mirror trying to eradicate the parts of me that now people train hard for in the gym or get surgery to achieve. I cannot begin to imagine what a childhood would have looked like without me trying to hide my breasts, or finding a pair of jeans that fit my waist and thighs.

So now I sit writing this, glimpsing across at the magazine cover after reading the article, and I smile. I smile for the little girl who felt so different from her peers, for all the girls who now get to see curvy women in media, and for the baby girls that will grow with broader ideas of what beautiful can be. This is the time when a 13-year girl can have a curvy figure, and find her jeans on ASOS or Pretty Little Thing or Fashion Nova. She can open a magazine and see people who look like her, and if she searches on Google or Tiktok for a size 12 she won’t just see weight loss images.

I feel the variety of images in mainstream media are not as far-reaching as they could be. There’s still a way to go to keep these images of women in the media frequently, but I am so pleased to be in a world where people are celebrating differences, not as aspirational, but just as being. We are glorious in all shapes, sizes, curves, and busts. Here’s to hoping many more years of inclusive fashion and beauty are to come.

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Just Do It!

There is a part of me that just checks out. Completely zones into this transcendental space. Free from time, commitments and obligations. For a second, everything stops, and numbness takes over.

I used to fall into these moments like a comfort blanket – ready, warm and cosy. These moments would precipitate anxiety about my appearance and internal jitters when readying the war paint for social functions.

In these moments, I’m faced with all my imperfections. Once upon a time, that meant feeling ugly, thinking how I hated my enlarged pores, my nose, and that part of my hair that always tried to escape the eco styler. But I am pleased to say I have grown.

So now, I say “why are my teeth not white”, “I forgot to thread my chin hairs”, and “no I can’t smile at the cute guy in the supermarket because I’m not sure he is as cute as I think he is,” because my vision is blurry.

A few weeks ago, I had an epiphany, actually two! One, I realised even when I am sad, I still like the face I see in the mirror. I can look and my face and my tummy and say, “hey girl, you are gorgeous”. Two, most of my body hang-ups are all minor things that I can do something about if I wish. This thought process may have taken me the best part of 20 years, but we give thanks.

I started to think of how much we rush around in todays society. Circling thoughts of our imperfections again and again. How often do we dream about what we could change? How often do we sit with the discomfort of these features and accept them? How much benefit would the change bring? I can easily list all the reasons why someone else should change, but when it comes to me, I often don’t get past the fantasy.

Recently, in a YouTube rabbit hole of self-help by inspirational women, I nonchalantly glided into a TED Talk by Bevy Smith. In this post, she spoke about settling, her family guidance and being a late bloomer. She had been doing it for most of her life. What resonated for me was how she termed settling. It was not about taking on a bummy guy or being mediocre. She was successful, with vibrant life. It was about her journey to her truth and living an ambitious life in-line with her path.

So amazing, right! I have this fantasy that I am running confidently up a hill, with my hair is in a bun with a smooth chin, then I awake from meditating on a beach with a warm, peaceful smile. Where is this girl?

More importantly, this fantasy is totally grounded within the realms of reality, but it’s just not how I’ve chosen to live. Like Bevy, I’ve had the most amazing titbits of guidance throughout my life, but I’ve not been present or ready to receive it.

My reception teacher made us recite, “There is no such word as can’t, there is nothing in the world I cannot do, if I only put my mind to it, I can achieve anything”.

Recently, that has really sunk in. All these hang-ups are relative to my perception of myself and the life I wish to have. The incongruence is astounding.

I am looking for love, but struggling to see.

I am spending at least 30 mins a day examining the hairs on my chin, wishing they would stop growing.

I am smiling less and less in pictures because, my teeth look visibly discoloured.

My legs are stiff, heavy and walking feels like a concerted effort.

Make it make sense!

I have run many times in my life, and I live on a hill. I can start running again. My dentist has rung me three times for a hygienist appointment, but I have ignored every call. It is 2022. Laser treatment is thriving and safe for melanated skin. I have been prescribed glasses in the past I can get a checkup, which my workplace will reimburse.

Okay, the first one will take a lot of effort, but it will be worth it, but the other three… As my dad would say, “I’m farming fart”!

I think I was scared because of the relative cost of all the things I needed. In being scared, I did nothing, and so I was further away from the fantasy version of myself. The funny thing about fear is you think in avoiding those frightening situations you are safe, and nothing will change. But that’s not how humans are built. The more I freeze in fear, the more the fear increases. For example, I have been worried about my increased facial hair growth for 3 years, and it’s only attacked me more violently, with an average of 20-30 hairs per week, sticking out my chin.

Well, enough is enough! I put on my war paint and I went to battle with myself. Self-care by force!

So now, I have a new pair of lenses, and a smooth chin following my second laser treatment. Teeth are on the list for next month, hehe.

It feels so much more lighter, everywhere… well except my bank balance. I am forever trying to avoid the clouds of depression, the grey skies of numbness are intense. Though I am that much stronger in the journey to align myself with my fantasy image, my truth and my heart. I’m actively working towards my best self, and that is so scary, but also so magical!

Let me know if you are on a quest for betterment, and how it’s going.

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This Valentines, I’m the gift!

In the spirit of loving my damn self, I walk into Valentine’s Day with an open heart, a winning smile and a dashing date.

Oh yes, I’m sooo excited for vday this year! To be honest I’m excited every year… hello a whole day in celebration of L-O-V-E. It’s a hopeful romantics kryptonite.

And it’s not only Eros that fuels my passion for this day. It’s the kindness, compassionate and acceptance that comes from your mother, good friends, and even sometimes unplanned company.

Maybe it’s because my sister brought me ‘Love in Colour’ by Bolu Babalola this Christmas, or because of a new beau in my life. But this Valentines, I really feel empowered by all the celebration of love.

Whether it’s people unashamedly claiming their bodies and painful experiences on instagram, or the new layer of softness in my friends who between them, seem be running a production line of babies. I’m really seeing the depth of self-love, and personal growth that comes from understanding who you are.

See, I’ve often found loving myself hard, what with my awkwardness, big boobs, bigger tummy, short Afro hair, and more recently bunions! But coming into my thirties I’ve let so much of my obsession with physicality go, and it’s left room for so much more.

Not to say I was ever vacuous, nor lacking emotional depth. But I was so concerned with the measuring up of my womanhood to others, I had no chance to acknowledge my gifts.

My ability to talk the pants off an elephant, my loyalty in friendship, my support to those ones I love. My ability to see a glass half full, and my never ending ideas for new ventures through creative springs has led me to this blog, which I’m eternally grateful for.

This strive inwards, hasn’t been easy. There’s been therapy, advice from aunties, reading, mediation, and big hugs (virtually and IRL). But taking time to nurture each of these gifts has made me more and more in love with myself.

Naysayers would say “Ha! Another commercially filled excuse to guilt us into spending money”. But you don’t have to spend money. Sharing the love is free and infinite.

It starts with taking those moments to just be you. Maybe your a free spirit dying to break free from the shackles of your job. Maybe there’s an idea you’ve had for ages but scared to try. A person you love/like, but your too scared to tell them how you feel. A lost friend you miss, but want to reconnect. A special place that brings you joy, or asking a professional for help when you feel stuck.

All of these things are love, and if any of the above resonates with you, listening to your desires, and taking thoughtful steps to bring them into fruition, could be the first steps toward the greatest love of all, thanks Whitney.

Sending you all a little light, and lots of love wherever you are this valentines 💗

Bra fitting IRL

Photo of Beija London store front, with black framed glass windows and doors.

With our new work schedules, most of us are back in the office for at least 1-3 days now. We’ve learnt so much more about work-life balance and having flexibility in our schedules. So imagine my joy when I discovered that Beija London has a store just 15mins from my workplace. And not just any regular smegular bra store, one that stocks bras up to an H. Erm… excuse me, what a find! Of course, I had to venture down there, and lunchtime is as good a time as any.

From their website, they boast an in-store fitting service, so I booked an appointment for the same day of the week I go to the office. I managed to find an afternoon time slot to squeeze into the seemingly never-ending list of work meetings. If I’m honest, I also had noticed a lilac pinky bra online that had my name all over it, but not my size, I was secretly hoping they’d have that in stock too!

Beija London’s Logo is an ancient Sanskrit symbol for a vulva, the Yoni. They describe themselves as a brand with an “ethos of powerful femininity and the strength in womankind”. I’ve been following them online for a while now, as they celebrate all the diverse and varied shapes we have as women. And I’m so here for seeing my slimmer sistas and voluptuous vixens all in one spot. Even offering a quiz on their website to help you find the perfect fit. They have designed three ranges to accommodate this, with the “Z” cup range for those who measure DD-H. This offers a modest nod to the idea that a fuller figure isn’t always a fuller cup, albeit not the broadest grading on the market. They are priced as a luxe brand with the average bra around £60. I wanted to see I could get a hammock worthy of that price tag.

So I arrived at the store a little late for my appointment – just typical of me. As I entered, I was greeted by the fabulous Anita. She perfectly combines the familiarity of your best friend, with the wisdom of your cool Aunty. She ushered me into a changing room after a slight lollygagging session and began to size me.

A great fitter makes you feel at ease, teaches you a little something about how to buy a well-fitted bra, and more importantly, informs you of the nuances of their brand. No two brands fit alike, and my fitter Anita managed this nuance expertly. I mostly wear a 36GG/H, but that’s usually Curvy Kate or Pour Moi.

Having never tried a Beija London bra before, I was curious how she’d size me. Firstly, she let me know that my bust is fuller on top. She measured me as a 36HH, although stated that in some other bra brands I could be a 36H or 38GG. Unfortunately, Beija only goes up to an H so this means I’m at the top of their range, and there is only one style of bra in a full cup 36H that I could fit in comfortably.

As most Beija bras are a balconette or plunge or bralette, those would be out. I didn’t even get to try them, as I was advised I’d be spilling out. A common experience I’ve had with plunge bras, so I couldn’t argue with her advice.

So, I couldn’t get my pink bra, as it would never have fit properly. I was offered this mustard yellow lace instead. I’ll be honest I had seen this one online and thought, Nah…

But I tried it on, and I was blown away by the Al Fresco Z Bra in mustard!

Changing room picture of Beija London mustard bra, and smiling blogger.

The online photos did not do it justice. The bra hugged my entire cup, in the softest, roundest way. After some assistance manoeuvring using the “scoop and swoop” method, a little jiggle et voilà, a perfect fit. Yellow is not my go-to as I have yellow undertones, so usually, I feel a bit ‘Simpsonish’, but I felt like a Grecian goddess in this.

Great support with a full band and firm wire, but there is a little flexibility so it doesn’t rub. My breast tissue is set quite deep, but the bridge of the bra fitting flush in the middle separating each boob, but still showing ample cleavage. And as it is a full cup you could quite easily flash a little sexy lace against a lower neckline top.

All in all, I really enjoyed my bra fitting and walked away with the complete set. I would have never brought that bra from the online photos, and probably would have sent back the original style I liked because of an ill fit. Luckily I went into the store, and got a personalised chat, letting me know how their bras would work for my bust. Just goes to show that good as a virtual fitting can be, nothing beats the face to face, experiences. So for any of you working in the city, or looking for a treat head on to Beija, it will be well worth the visit.

Mustard bra artistically laid on grey rug background, with a fan on the far left top corner.

Thank you Anita, for making the mundane lunch break a little rainbow in the grey city skies.

Wise Woman

Halloween for everyone else is a time to dress up, to party, to put on a mask, or to honour their passed loved ones.

For me, and my paternal family, it’s the day of my grandmothers birth. So every year I go and visit her, share some food, drink, and hear lots of her fabulous stories.

To honour her, and celebrate her gift of storytelling. I thought I’d share the story of my first bra, of which she played a part.

To tell you this, I must first give you the background. My grandmother was born in a small parish named St Thomas not far from a place called Hector’s River. And much like the river my grandma has always run deep, unwavering and following her own rhythm.

One of my oldest memories of her, was of her doing just that. Defying the conventional grandmother role, following her gut, and the wisdom learnt from her own experiences.

On this occasion, it’s was the Christmas of ‘97, and my extended family was gathered for the after-dinner present opening session – a time I treasured. I can’t lie, as a child I was spoilt, and most of my mum and dads friends either hadn’t had children yet, or their children were big teenagers, so I got extra gifts/money, and I delighted in all the fuss they made of me.

So imagine the living room carpet, floods of sparkly and shiny paper, whimsical glee of children (my cousins and sisters), laughter, and stereo blaring whatever Christmas special was on at the time. Everyone was getting Barbies, toys, clothes, books, videos etc. I had my routine polished for receiving presents.

It would start with “oh, thank you Aunty such and such”, grab the gift, shake a little and squeeze to guess what it was, open it delicately to show my gracious nature, smile back and thank them again, followed by a prompt dismissal of the gift on to present pile – so I could open more. And boy oh boy did I love this. The adults thought I was well ‘mannersable’, which ensured more gifts in the future. Such a great routine!

Anyway, I’m handed a present from my Nanny. So, of course, I start my routine, but as I catch her smile, it looks a little different. I think for a second hmmm, but who cares – another present for me, hehe. I continue opening it and great, I see 101 Dalmatians. As I continue opening, I spot the themed knickers with matching vests. Great! I thought … until I saw it.

There, hidden underneath, is a black cotton bra, embroidered with a black heart and x and an o. Before I could even react, my uncle was stood up big belly laughing. “What the hell, does she need that for”? I’d never been so embarrassed. I look at my nanny with a lofty stare, “ I like the knickers” and smiled. Then she looked at my uncle cut her eye, and kissed her teeth, pulling me close. She could see the annoyance in my face, but she grinned saying “Don’t worry you’ll soon see why”.

Later that evening, putting away all my new toys and clothes, I stared at that loathsome thing. Best believe I shoved it right to the back of my draw, deep in the right corner. “I’m never wearing that”, I thought.

Flash forward a few months, to a primary school hall, and it was time for me to do PE, and I had forgotten my kit. So my teacher told me I had to do it in my undies. This was a terrible practice of punishment through ridicule that was common in England decades ago, now thank God it’s not.

But to be honest, I didn’t feel the ridicule. I was a body-positive naive innocent child. I was all too glad to show off my 101 Dalmatians vest and knickers. I expected everyone to tell me how fabulous they were. Instead… it became the first time people gawked at my chest. Everyone kept asking what was on my chest until one boy said “titties”, and well – I’m sure you can guess the rest.

I was mortified, and so angry that I hadn’t noticed them. Where did these things come from, maybe it was last night? I got home from school humiliated, and I definitely didn’t want to talk about it. Then I remembered, that’s why nanny brought me that bra, she must have known they were coming.

The next time I saw her, I couldn’t wait to tell her what I was now wearing. I was so proud of my new bra, and the fact she had prepared me. Somehow the bra made the embarrassment alright. It became the coat of arms that would protect for a few more years of being one of only two girls with boobs.

The little life preparations, and wisdom from the women in our lives are endless. This Halloween my grandmother turns 90, she probably won’t read this, but I wanted to share a little bit of the love she gave to me through a story, just as she’s done year after year.

Happy Birthday Nanny Ivy, Love you lots x

Loving Yourself

The journey to self-love and body confidence has been long and arduous.

Love is not just the number of likes for a beautiful picture, a perfectly ‘slayed’ face, or a transient state of happiness.

There are peaks and troughs, and some days despite my love for myself, I still get caught on my hang-ups. The side of my belly that overhangs, my bunions, and the annoying hairs that always reappear on my chin. These are the not so good days. But I wouldn’t say bad, not anymore.

There was a time when how I felt, or how others felt about my physical appearance, would make me lie in my bed for hours. I would cry on the floor and then pray for forgiveness for being so ungrateful & vacuous. But now, the bad days are never about my physical appearance. And I’m so proud!

There was once a time I couldn’t look in the mirror. I was terrified of an image that didn’t reassemble the idea of beauty I thought I needed to fit into. That didn’t include my nose, my skin, my blemishes, my unperky boobs, scars, bunions, and a messy silhouette. I looked at the images on ‘The Gram’, or the happy girls in the bars and restaurants I frequented and felt they represented everything I did not have.

The perfectionist in me would like to tell you that my journey to loving myself originated with some good books and therapy, but that would be a lie. Books and therapy definitely helped, but my journey back to me started with a beau, (the feminist in me just departed).

But I wanted to be truthful so that I could share a real journey, and say not all beautiful flowers start in a wonderful garden, some are found in a field of weeds and nettles.

That was me a mess, a lost soul, unheard and unseen by the most important person, myself. But I met a guy from my past, who just got me. I didn’t need to have makeup on for him to say I was beautiful, and I didn’t need to dress up to be sexy. Bumping into him on my way it to work, and seeing his smile made my day.

And those kind eyes, those words of comfort when I was so self-deprecating, was how I started to be kind to myself, and be present. When I’d say I look like a tramp, or talk about how fat I was getting. He would roll his eyes.

On one of my particularly self-loathing days, he asked me “why do you say these things about yourself”. “You are who you are, you’re not fat, you are you”… and some other stuff I can’t remember now, but my point was, he challenged me. I had to push aside my negative thoughts about myself and appraise these new positive ones. And this forced me to make new opinions about myself.

You see by being negative about your body, you are often not grounded in your present reality. You’re upset with yourself for not having the body you had then, or the body you dream about having. Both of these notions are fantasies. You are who you are, now, at this moment, and that is always going to change. Yes, always.

So imagine, us thinking about our 18-year-old bodies at 30 and wishing we had that body now. Think about all the things we’ve learnt about our bodies now, physically, emotionally, psychologically, in ill and good health, but most importantly how differently we dress and understand our shape. It’s laughable to think we could ever really go back, but also impossible! So why bother, when here, at this moment, you are gorgeous.

Around that time, I started reading this book by Marianne Williamson, which asks “who are we to be beautiful”, and it got me thinking about my body image. The book goes on to discuss the constant comparisons we make as human beings. I thought what if I didn’t care about this woman’s perfect ‘hip to waist ratio’, or this girl’s plump natural breasts? What if I just only looked at myself, and accepted me, not as separate from my personality or character, but as one whole being.

This helped me look at myself too! Even though I didn’t like my reflection. I could stand me as a person. I had friends and family who loved me. I thought about all the things I brought to the world, my humour, my love, my imagination. All these gifts and talents I had. And somehow, I wasn’t intolerable, I just was.

Seems so simple, but reconnecting my physical self to my emotional and spiritual self was so freeing. To finally see and be seen by me, and more importantly valued. And although the man didn’t last, the lessons I learnt I’ll treasure for a lifetime. It’s so easy to love a pretty face, but true love is to accept and be present in who you are now.

I hope this helps anyone starting, on this self-love journey. Here’s the book details: A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles, Marianne Williamson

The Bedroom and Underwear

The Bedroom and Underwear is such a fascinating subject for me. I guess this is because the patriarchy teaches that ‘we women’ wear lingerie to allure the opposite sex. But we wear it, whenever, wherever, with whomever we want.

Nonetheless, it forms an interesting part of the conversations we have with ourselves, and our friends before we are intimate. Mines always ask me what’s sexy in the bedroom? (I find this particularly hilarious as I’ve not had sex, or a man in a hot minute, still)…

But let’s unpick this question, and ask what do they really want to know? Do they desire to be sexy for their partners, or just for themselves? Either way, I’m forced to return these questions with; what is sexiness? Is it our femininity, our style, our bodies? Or is it a measure of our proximity to the conventional beauty standards of our time, set by the ‘Media’, social networks and society itself?

When looking at our sensuality, and how we may be attractive to others, I say absolutely none of the above applies! We have to look to ourselves. Yes, you! That face in the mirror, and how it aligns with your personality, preferences and identity.

We are all at our sexiest when we are true to us. The things we like, and what makes us feel comfortable, confident and open. I say ‘open’ because every woman who is sexy is a little bit vulnerable. She is consciously or unconsciously being her truest self in that moment, and that can be such a scary place.

Rejection is real! I think this is why people are sometimes nervous to wear what they want in the bedroom. They believe if they try, or show something new they’ll be dismissed. But herein lies the problem, as we humans are complex beings. We change our minds, we develop new passions, likes and dislikes. So why would we only display one version of ourselves in the bedroom? Being authentic to your thoughts, feelings and physical sensations will always bring about more meaningful intimacy.

Thus, accepting yourself is key to sexiness. This doesn’t mean that you love or like every part of you, but you do know who you are, and you don’t dim your light for others. We are all imperfect, and beautiful!

Once we are true with ourselves we radiate on ‘our frequency’, and if someone doesn’t resonate with you being sexy in that way, then they’re just not on your wave. And they should probably stay where they are – at a distance from you!

For me the prospect of meeting someone new, makes me feel incredibly sexy. Mainly because I’m vain, but also cause I love telling all my adventures to someone who knows nothing about me. And in feeling this, my dual desire to exhibit my mysterious self rears its head.

And the lingerie comes out! It’s the perfect combination for how I feel. Because I can reveal as little as I want, depending on my mood… or the weather. This doesn’t mean my date is “getting lucky”, but there’s something so powerful that comes from wearing lingerie.

My grandmother used to say: ‘Make sure you put on good underwear because you never know when there might be an emergency!’

As a teenager, I used to laugh thinking I’m sure the paramedics will not care, but as an adult, this idea of underwear preparation has not left me.

So here are my tips for how you could prepare for The Bedroom:

Be yourself! Just in case you’ve not read above, this is the cardinal rule.
Wear something that makes you feels sensual! This could be a vest and panties (so underrated), or a lacy Basque, or a velvet bra. Whatever, makes you want to ‘sleep’ with yourself!
Think about the textures and how it feels on your body, if it feels good on you, chances are they’ll like it too.
Senses, there are 5, and ideally, you’d like to stimulate as much of them as you can. So spray your favourite fragrance, drink or eat an aphrodisiac, wear a colour you like. This can work for virtual too!
It doesn’t have to fit perfectly! As a fuller cup gal, I can often become disheartened that the set doesn’t come in my size, but as long as you’re comfortable, and the garment isn’t falling apart, wear it, buy it, have fun.
Indulge your fantasies. What’s the point of imagination if we never do what we dream of? It’s still you, after all, it was your idea!

For those of you, who’d like more details on what I like to wear, please keep an eye out for my next post on how a fuller cup gal can dress for the bedroom.

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Sale Shopping on a Budget

For a “Fuller Cup Gal” who loves lingerie there are so many different brands to choose from, but with the ranging costs, one could easily end up in the red. We all shop for different reasons, with varying budgets. However, any good shopper knows there’s no better shop that one with a bargain, and I love a sale!

Last Black Friday, I really felt the pressure to spend. I was at home, scrolling through the seemingly millions of retail emails, of which I just skim the titles. But the pesky push notifications got to me! After spending way too much on Zara’s 60% off sale, it struck me how much harder it is to get the same level of discounts in a lingerie store.

Not to say they don’t have good sales, of course, they do! I’ve found some great things, but rarely are all their styles from one season included, as they usually are at an end of season clothing sale. Especially when one is looking to expand her range of brassieres. A lady would like a range of options, to feel she has truly gotten a good discount. But in the world of DD+ bras, you need to know what you’re looking for. Where to go for which type of style, or just take a gamble to see what’s on offer.

Even though I did my shop during Black Friday, these stores have sales at any season. So, I thought I’d share with you the 6 places I usually see offers. So us big-boobed gals can ‘Ball’ on a budget. This is not to say these are the only places, but in my experience, I tend to find offers here. I’m based in the UK, so please check out the international delivery rates if you don’t. Here’s my list:

Brastop – This was the first place I brought from as a teenager, so it’s dear to my heart. Originally, I thought it was an outlet brand store, but they seem to have the new season styles in too, these days.
Figleaves – A huge online catalogue of intimates in cup sizes up to N, but in varying ranges for each brand. They have a outlet section of their site too!
Marks & Sparks – Good ole’ M&S! I’ve only found stuff online once, but they definitely always have a bargain in store. Although clothing retailers have closed due to National Lockdown, the underwear section in my local store is still open. My guess is they all are, so check yours out, because underwear is definitely a necessity, and they had a sale on last time I was in there.
Belle Lingerie – Another large catalogue, but stocks both new and discounted (out of season) bras.
Playful Promises – Never have I ever brought a bra from here before, but I’d been window shopping here for a while so I thought I’d try it, as they seem to always have some kind of outlet sale on.
Bluebella – I’ve brought gifts for my friends here, after stalking their range on insta. I’d always thought of them as a brand for DD and below, but after seeing G cups in their sale I thought why not.

Okay, so on to the shop! The first thing to know about me is, I only buy sets, (unless it is a multi-way bra). During this sale haul, I thought about some of the reasons we buy lingerie. We buy for the everyday, that bra we wear with almost anything, not caring if a strap or two shows because it’s so comfortable. We buy for special occasions, a wedding or hot date or birthday. We buy for practicality, the bra that goes with a particular style of dress, or for sports or after surgery. Then there’s my favourite… we buy for fantasy, to fulfil that idea we had in our heads, or to give us that little spark of joy.

For this shopping experience, I wanted it all! But I dialled back my eagerness and thought about what I actually wanted. I wanted one statement piece, one I want to ‘do’ myself piece, and one I can wear with anything piece; all within the budget of £100. So I hunted, I sought, and I bought it! Everything came from Brastop, Playful Promises, and Bluebella. And I can’t lie I relished the challenge! I tried to buy sets in a range of prices, but all were heavily discounted. I’ve showcased them below:

“I can wear with anything”

Curvy Kate for Brastop

Lifestyle Plunge Bra & Short Canteloupe 36GG

RRP £26 + £13 = £39

Sale £14 + £5 = £19

“I want to ‘do’ myself”

Bluebella

More Aura Basque & Karolina Thong 36FF

RRP £48 + £12 = £60

Sale £15 + £10 = £25

“I want a statement piece”

Felicity Hayward for Playful Promises

Felicity Hayward Knox Chain Quarter Cup Bra Lilac FB & HW Brief Lilac, With Regalia Gold Chain Detail Nipple Pastie

RRP £45 + £25 + £12 = £82

Sale £22.50 + £12.50 + £12(No discount) = £47

So let’s get in people…

The anything bra

Okay so disclaimer, I actually have this set already in black. I got the bra as a freebie when I was a fit model for Curvy Kate checking their sizing for 36GG (a few years ago). At the time I was between a 36H &GG, but it fit beautifully. I actually am now a 36GG, funnily enough, and it still fits. I love a mesh bra, as I wear them with anything. They don’t show seams through my clothes and are lightweight enough to wear all day. I couldn’t miss the opportunity for this orange version. I saw it as a sign from the Gods above, as neon colours always look great on me. So much so, I’ve since brought the Fuschia version too!

Pro The colour perfectly suits me, but also looks a little nude so it hypes up the sexy factor.
Pro The feel of the mesh on my body, is so light. It literally feels like I’m not wearing a bra, and the panties are so soft.
Pro The support is unmatched. This bra manages to offer full support, with the underwire firm, but not rigid, so it literally just feels like your boobs have just perked up overnight.
Pro The shape is very rounded, which I love. It’s always a challenge to get a teardrop shape in a fuller bust bra, but this comes very close.
Con Only one! Be careful what you wear on top of this as it is light neon orange, it will show through white… so maybe it can’t be worn with anything!

Let me just ‘do’ myself set

Known for their sexy noire sets, I was trés excited to finally try a Bluebella set of my own. So I hit the search field of their site and entered 36G. To my horror there was absolutely nothing left in a 36G – it was all sold out. There was a basque in a 36FF, and I couldn’t resist the urge to just try it and see. And boy, oh boy was I glad I took that chance because it fit! Not perfectly, it looks rather booby, and I definitely couldn’t just wear it under a tee. However, under a cross-over dress or loose shirt – Yass hunni! Bedroom or Cocktails this oozes sex appeal. It just works, and not only does it work, the cut-out banded strap sides add a little Va Va Voom, and that’s always a positive.

Pro Extremely sexy, with the bodice very comfortable and form fitting.
Pro Low back and front, so great for plunging necklines.
Con Stress on the straps due to my fuller bust (2 sizes bigger), so the rectangular ring on the apex, has already begun to twist from horizontal to vertical.
Con As it is a couple of sizes smaller I’m worried the weight of my bust, will wane on the band length, and won’t be to wear this all day. I’m going to try it out and let you know in another post.

P.S. Since I brought this basque, I’ve been informed that they’re working on some more fuller bust bra styles that should be out soon.. so watch that space, I know I will.

It’s all about the statement!

This was the set I was most excited to try. You should know that I love a satin cup. I’ve not brought one since I was an FF cup, so I was super eager to try this half cup in lilac. Lilac in lingerie always pops, and this looked so sexy on. It was girly and fun, as well as soft – which is my type of lingerie. I loved the diamante body chain, that hung so nicely from the bridge of the bra. The bra sat well with the high-waisted knicker. However, this bra was not the best fit for me.

My boobs are quite weighty, as well as soft and oblong shaped. As most of the support for breast tissue is held in the underband of the bra, and the cup itself is extremely soft, the straps only gave a loose shape to my silhouette. The front straps pushed my boobs together to create a good cleavage, but my huge nipples altered the shape of the cup. It still looked nice, but I definitely want to try another bra in a full cup from playful promises/Felicity Hayward to see if it suits my boob shape better.

Pro Super feminine, soft satin gives the bra a chic and sexy look, especially coupled with the knicker.
Pro Feels soft, and smooth against the skin.
Pro Diamante body chain, and gold accents, adds even more glamour to the set.
Con Half cup not as suited for larger nipples &/or softer breast tissue.
Con Nipple covers too small for my nipples and areolas.

As you can see I found a range of sets, starting from just £19. Buying bras in DD+ can be costly, and time-consuming, but it absolutely doesn’t have to be. I loved all the sets I purchased. It’s so important to think about what you’re looking for in buying a bra. It’s hard enough just looking through all the huge ranges in your size, don’t overwhelm yourself when you don’t know what you want.

What is helpful is that different bra brands tend to use the same pattern in different ranges across the seasons, so if you find a brand, or style that works for you, don’t be afraid to buy it again. Just like I did with the Lifestyle Plunge Bra. If you start off with the places I recommended and follow my tips below it will be a breeze.

Fuller Bust Bra Buying Tips

Set a budget, and stick to it.
If you’re buying with a purpose or occasion in mind, stay focused.
Think about the colours or textures or shapes you like.
Don’t buy it just because it’s on sale. If it doesn’t spark joy, leave it for someone who loves it!

Do let me know how you get on, and share with me any tips you have for fuller bust bra buying. Happy shopping!

He loves me, He loves me not…

Kicking off this love season with Eros!

This is romantic love. The idea of wanting a connection or physical touch is definitely not lost on me. As a single gal, I feel the yearning for love and, I desire love returned. Who wouldn’t desire a hug and kiss from someone they find sexy, especially now when its lockdown?

However, as a sapiosexual, this type of intense passion, always leaves me wondering if this love will last forever, and it got me thinking of the childhood game, “He loves me, he loves me not”. Even though we don’t play this game anymore, we still ask this question.

But how valid is this as a question to ask ourselves. Let say they do love you, like the Eros love. They’re so attracted to you, just the sight, or memory of you arouses them. They want to touch you, feel you, and make love to you. What does that even mean? How does that actually qualify them as a love you want or need?

I think a better question is not asking if they love you? But rather, are they a love you’re looking for?

I would like to think, the antiquated notion of does he love me, fell off like the resurgence of bell-bottoms in the late 90’s. But I’d be wrong, cause this ambiguity still exists. In the run-up to Valentine’s Day, and as the stir craziness sets in, and you are tempted by the “Hey big head” text… I’d like to wake women up everywhere with the reminder, that you already know who “loves you”, and who “loves you not”.

And it’s not in his kiss, honestly Cher, why did you lead us down that path! It’s absolutely in their actions. If you are confused, or unsure about how that special person feels about you then:

Ask yourself what love is for you. Write it down, or voice record it, so you can refer back to it.
Ask them what their feelings are about you, and voice your insecurities if you have them. Then pay attention, don’t interrupt, let them explain to you. If anything is unclear, ask them to elaborate. If they still haven’t given you a coherent answer, remember confused about their love for you, is also an option. Très annoying!
Take time and reflect on what they’ve said. Think about how it relates to their behaviour and their interactions with you. Do their words and their actions match, and how does that make you feel. Don’t feel pressured to respond, if you haven’t fully understood what they’ve said. Sleep on it and process it when you’re ready to.
Go back think about what love looks and feels like to you. Does their love fit with how you’d like to be loved? Make a decision based on that compatibility, about how that person can share love with you. Is that person prepared to show you compassion and compromise in the relationship you have?

Because it really isn’t about whether he loves you or not. It’s about whether you know what a healthy relationship is for you, and whether or not you’re in one.

So this Valentine’s Day, if anyone has left you wondering, even after you’ve asked, it’s probably an indication that they don’t. So do not be fooled by Eros, as passionate as it feels it’s usually short-lived, if it doesn’t have another firmer foundation.