Dear 24 Year Old, Size 8, Ally-

I want you to stop cancelling vacations because you believe you are too fat and do not deserve to have fun.  Stop referring to yourself as a “fat ass” or “fat girl”. The baby weight is a natural part of your new status as a mother and does not make you weak or lazy. And please, I am begging you, stop using Xenadrine and other pills & poisons to kill your appetite and enhance your energy. Instead, go outside and soak up the Vitamin D. And, take off the thermals and long pants during the summer; it is okay to wear shorts and tank tops even if you are not a size 6. Your body is not a prison, it is a gift. Comparing yourself to skinny chicks is a waste of time and will just continue to make you doubt yourself; cut that shit out it’s fucking annoying to everyone around you.

Things I missed out on in my 20’s due to my negative body image: A wedding, wearing a bathing suit (did not swim for a decade), Air Force Ball. I lived in Europe for 3 years and wore long sleeves and skirts everywhere I went. I never had pictures taken with my children because I was so ashamed. I convinced myself that I was a “Winter Person” so that I would not have to wear any clothes that showed any skin.

Dear 34 Year Old, Size 10/12, Ally-

Why are you still wearing long sleeves and skirts in 90 degree weather? Stop walking around looking like a sister wife and buy a god damn pair of shorts.  I bet you wish you were as “fat” as you thought you were 10 years ago don’t you? At what weight will you start believing you are beautiful..150? 140? 130? Buy a bathing suit and take your children swimming; they miss their mother during the summer. And, have sex naked for once in your life!  Men know what is underneath that t-shirt; they want to feel skin and see boobs; you are not fooling anyone. And, fuck anyone who gives you that sideways look at the gym; they are irritable because they are hungry. I encourage you to eat a cheeseburger in the parking lot when they are leaving class…watch their heads explode. You know you are being a stupid twat..knock that shit off.

This Curvy Girl Guide Community post comes to us courtesy Ally Alsop, a 34 year old single mother of two boys and a licensed therapist/counselor. Transplanted to the St. Louis area a decade ago after serving four years active duty with the U. S. Air Force. Currently addicted to all things camping, kayaking, and prepping. Future owner of a bathing suit and pair of shorts. Can be found dicking around on twitter during any free time at @allys_sons

It was with great sadness, nostalgia, and horror Monday that the world discovered Robin Williams was dead from apparent suicide.  Williams touched so many lives, and was such an overwhelming presence that nearly everybody had a story to tell.  Underneath the sadness, nostalgia, and horror, though, was a pervasive sentiment of shock and confusion.  How could somebody so funny, so joyful, so wonderful be sad enough to take his own life?  How did nobody know this was coming?

Then people started to draw connections.  Robin Williams struggled with drug addiction.  In an NPR interview, he said that he sometimes felt “down in the dumps.” It turns out, “down in the dumps” was more than the typical blues that everybody feels from time to time.  It was a deep, crippling depression that had caused him to turn, at times, to drugs, and eventually to suicide.

He’s not the first.  Chris Farley.  Mitch Hedberg. John Belushi.  Some of the biggest names in comedy eventually lost battles with addiction and depression, leaving right in their prime.  The list of attempted suicides is even longer, boasting names like Louis C.K., Owen Wilson, Artie Lang, and Drew Carey.  Comedy Gods who spend all of their energy making the world laugh, who seem like endless fonts from which we can draw smiles…so sad inside that they cannot stand to be in their own heads anymore.

Why is this happening?

Well, in part it may be because the funny person’s brain is wired fundamentally differently.  A study from the British Journal of Psychiatry conducted in January of this year was one of the first to really take a look at the incidence of mental illness in comedians.  The finding?  Comedians are more likely to have psychotic traits than the average person, and are more likely to have schizophrenia or manic depression.  Comedian scores on two of the traits, anhedonia (inability to feel joy from normal joy-producing acts) and impulsivity (acting without considering the consequences of those actions), were much higher.

So scientifically speaking, comedians are more likely to be wired to struggle to feel joy, and more likely to not consider the consequences of their actions.  This combination is a ticking time bomb for drug addiction, which provides artificial euphoria (good feelings), but has ill-considered long-term consequences.  Should they avoid the drugs, then they may just not feel euphoria at all, and all that’s left is numbness and sadness.

Now take the science away and just think of it socially.

Humor can be isolating.  The comedian makes light of his or her own struggles to make us smile.  At that point, we are smiling and feeling giddy, but they are STILL STRUGGLING.  The ability to turn tough material into a joke doesn’t make it any less tough for the person experiencing it, it just means that now everybody is laughing while they remain sad or angry.

Humor can be a mask.  The funny man is often making jokes to divert attention from their own demons.  If the world thinks they are hilarious, then nobody can focus on the overwhelming inadequacies and insecurities they’re feeling.  It is a crunchy, delightful candy-coating that hides the bitter nougat within.

Humor can be a burden.  A reputation for being funny becomes the primary identity of the comedian.  It’s always positive attention, and it’s validating to see people laugh, so they keep doing it.  Keep the happy face up.  Keep cracking the jokes. It’s what’s expected of them.  Even when they’re dying inside.  They have to keep providing amusement to others, because if they become a “downer,” then they lose everything.

So what can we do? Well, we can encourage the scientific community to continue to research mental illness.  We can continue to talk about it openly and without judgment so that people know they aren’t alone.  We can treat everyone with kindness, whether we’re on an internet forum or on the street or with our friends.  We can reach out to those who seem to be having a tough time.  And we can realize that jokes don’t always equal happiness.  Our funniest friends may need us the most, so don’t take the humor at face value if something seems “off.”  It may take some gentle digging to get a natural comedian to open up to you, but you may end up saving a life.

Depression and addiction are terrifying and terrible. They both feel like a choking, wet, black darkness from which you will never emerge.  Depression is very, very good at convincing you that you cannot and will not feel better.  Too many people struggle alone, self-medicate with drugs, spiral downwards, and ultimately give up.  That shouldn’t happen.  Depression is a form of  illness, and it is TREATABLE.  It may not be easy, and it may not always be the first thing you try that kicks it, but SOMETHING WILL WORK. Please, if you feel sadness or emptiness that isn’t going away, ask for help.  Ask your friends or family or a doctor for help.  If you can’t ask them, then go to http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org and talk to someone via chat or over the phone at (800)273-TALK.

The world will miss Robin Williams fiercely, and I hope we will take this as a wakeup call to lift each other up and take depression and addiction as serious social problems, rather than just few and far between individual issues.

Kristie Webber is a stay-at-home Air Force wife and mom who writes sarcastic commentary and swear words about food, fitness, and babies at The Spiteful Chef.  She feels qualified to do so because she’s a Culinary Institute of America trained chef, an ACE certified personal trainer, and the mother of a wildly impulsive toddler boy. She enjoys eating cake, drinking wine, entering and losing athletic races of all kinds, and being a giant nerd. You can also follow Kristie on Twitter and Facebook.

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]]> http://brittanyherself.com/cgg/that-set-killed-addiction-and-depression-in-the-comedy-industry/feed/ 0 http://brittanyherself.com/cgg/all-the-stolen-things/ http://brittanyherself.com/cgg/all-the-stolen-things/#comments Fri, 08 Aug 2014 12:59:45 +0000 http://brittanyherself.com/cgg/?p=24327

Dear sweet, stupid, naive 16 year old girl,

Right about now you are starting something that will follow you for the rest of your life. It will make you cringe, be sick to your stomach, and cause you more anxiety than you know. This is the pivotal moment when your whole childhood is wrecked. It will steal friends from you, it will make you not trust your future husband, it will make you feel less than a woman when you finally become one.

It all starts with one kiss. Yes, there has been flirting up to this point. And yes, your feelings have grown into something that they shouldn’t have. But out of all of my deepest wishes for you, I wish you hadn’t let him kiss you. A kiss by definition is to touch with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting. While in your head you will think it is a sign of love, in his it is just sexual desire. One stupid kiss underneath a spinning ceiling fan in the middle of an empty living room- that was decorated by his wife. For his family.

This kiss will make you so unbelievably happy. You will squeal in your car on your drive home. You will dance around in your seat. Because while this was a one in a million kiss for him, this was your first. And while other girls get to cherish the memory of this historic moment…10 years later you’ve only told 3 people the true story of your first kiss. This is the first thing he has stolen from you that you can never get back.

You, my dear sweet young beautiful girl, are worth so much more than you even know. I know you’re upset because none of the high school guys like you. I know you’ve never had a boyfriend and I know that all you want is to be wanted and told you’re pretty- you’re gorgeous- you’re beautiful- you’re sexy- you’re good enough. In ten years you won’t even remember half of the guys you stared at in your classes wishing they would notice you. In ten years you will be a mom. You will be a wife! (I know…I know…its weird to think that someone wanted to marry you. But it happened, and your wedding day was gorgeous.) You will look back on all of this and cry with an old friend on your couch when you finally let it out about what happened. Instead of a normal whirlwind teenage romance you got cast in the desperate housewife’s as a teen-aged mistress. I wish I could go back in time and talk you out of so many things. But this one will cause you more remorse than you can imagine.

Your first time having sex will not be romantic. It will be in your parents basement. Late at night. It will start in a chair, because he will think you’re use to that kind of stuff already even though he knows you‘re a virgin. And when he can’t penetrate you that way you will then lay on the green carpet, with your shirt still on. You will be laying on your long perfectly highlighted blonde/brown hair to the point of not being able to move your neck so all you will be able to look at is the ceiling. And your precious head will be knocking against your dads stereo speaker from the force of him literally fucking you over for the rest of your life. You won’t remember any kisses. You won’t remember that you were happy it happened. All you will remember 10 years later is that he stole that moment from you. You will remember that while you agreed to it nothing changes the fact that he was 31 and you were 16. When the affair is about to be over, he will invite you to his house. He will have sex with you one last time…and he will then tell you its over. You will be depressed. You will write so much dark poetry. You will live in your bedroom and not want to eat or see any friends. Because he threw you away after he had his fun. You were in love and he was in lust. You will always feel so guilty because he is married and it instills in your head that your first love, your first relationship was tainted with lies. You won’t think it will matter later on in life but it will spill over into the beginning of your marriage. It will make you not trust your husband for reasons unknown to him. Because after all…the only other relationship you were in was nothing but sex, lies, hiding, and deceit. It’s really all that your heart and head have known.

Every time someone mentions adultery you will be embarrassed of your past. And all you had to do was wait until 2006 because that is the year you meet your husband. And it will be everything that you wished and hoped for in high school. When you start to get serious with your husband you will be so afraid to tell him about your past. But you will know you need to. You will tell him everything in his truck at the end of your parents road. You will feel a little bit free because it is the same spot that you had met the other man at many times before and you will feel a whole lot of scared because…holy shit..you know what real love is now and what if your past messes that up as well? But you tell him. And he lets you cry. And he will hold your hand so soft, yet so protecting. He will tell you everything is fine and that it changes nothing between you two.

10 years after your affair you will feel ashamed. You will want your first kiss to not be under that spinning ceiling fan, but instead to be under the stars on the day before thanksgiving with the boy you have fallen head over heels for. Oh how I wish for that to be your first kiss. It was almost a year in the making. There will be anticipation of friends becoming more than friends. There will be butterflies in your belly. He will be so perfectly tall that when he wraps his arms around you and bends down to kiss you, you will feel so safe. You will dance in your bedroom for an hour after he leaves with the biggest smile on your face. You will fall asleep thinking about him and nothing will ever feel that perfect again. This is what I wish I could have given you. There are a lot of other moments in our life that you will want to take back. There are outfits you wish you had never worn. Hair decisions. Friend decisions. Money decisions. (OH GOD THE MONEY DECISIONS!) I wish I could stop you from doing what is just budding into a poisoned flower. I wish I could show you how much you will be loved later on in life because I know that’s all you wanted. You deserve more than he wants to use you for. You are not fat. You are not worthless. You are unbelievably talented. And friendly. And loving. And so, so, pretty. Just wait 2 years for your proverbial prince. Please. He is the man that will never steal anything from you except maybe the chicken from your Cesar Salad on your first date.

This Curvy Girl Guide Community post comes to us courtesy Anastasia. 

I am not going to lie to you; the next ten years of your life will the the hardest years of your life. You will be beaten down, challenged, tossed around, stomped on and at times it will hurt so much that you will do nearly anything to get the pain to end, to make the hurt stop, to quiet the noise, to escape. You will shine, dull, live out loud, and sink so deeply into yourself that you forget that there is a big, wide world out there. You will lose yourself. You will forget what it means to be happy. You will forget what it means to smile. Negativity will become a parasite. Don’t let me frighten you, though, because the most beautiful thing will happen. You will rise. You will rise above the hurt. You will rise above the pain. You will rise about the self-doubt, self-loathing, and the need for quiet. You will be like a motherfucking Phoenix and you will rise.

You leave him. I know right now, the idea of leaving him seems impossible. You are afraid to be on your own. You are afraid to be with him. He has cut you off from friends, from family. And even after you leave him, he will continue to batter you, mindfuck you, control you, and slowly try to kill you, if not at his own hands, at yours. But you leave. You leave the physical threat. At some point in your life, he will never lay his hands on you again. You will be poor. You will couch surf. You will carry all of your possessions around in a trash bag. Eventually, it stops. You find the strength to not allow it and it stops.

You will find your own place. You will make a home for you and your daughter. Step-by-step, you will stop being his punching bag, he will stop being an emotional terrorist, your actions and reactions will no longer be based on what he can do or what he says he will do, but on how you want to lie your life. You will walk tall. You will stand up straight. And he will never lay a hand on you ever again. There will be times you want to go back. The guilt of breaking up your family will get to you. Worries over financial security will keep you up at night. What you cannot give your daughter that every other child has will make you feel like you are a bad parent, that she’s better off without you than with you. You will find out, in time, you were not his only victim. Leaving him is a priceless gift you gave to her.

Don’t allow yourself to own the shame that belongs to others. You are vulnerable. Life isn’t how you picture it. You take ownership of his shame – of what he did to you, what he did to her, how he has fooled others. You blame yourself for being weak, for allowing yourself to be in that position in the first place. Do not own his shame. Do not own the shame over the difficult decisions you had to make to live, to survive, to make it to the next day. Do not own the shame of the decisions others forced on you because their behavior was so bad and you were simply trying to do the right thing. Do not own the shame of their shortcomings, their Dementor-like need to feed on your spirit. Do not own the shame that belongs to others. If you do, it will extinguish your light and lead you to a darkness. Owning their shame will be like spilled ink slowly creeping over a blank, white page, suffocating its potential and brightness inch-by-inch until it has disappeared completely. Don’t vanish. Don’t disappear.

It is no surprise that you lose Mom and Dad. Mom’s loss will hit you hard. You will be angry that you are young and your mother died and now you have no one to lead you, guide you, and help you navigate womanhood, motherhood, and starting over. You will feel like you are not a girl, but not quite yet a woman. You will miss them. At the same time, you will hate them for being gone too soon. You will resent everyone that bitches and complains and moans about their parents. You will want to kick them, hit them, and scream in their face, asking if they even know how fucking lucky they are to have parents around to ride their asses when they think they are doing wrong. Be understanding. You haven’t walked in their shoes.

Mourn them, but don’t forget to live. Embrace life, despite the loss of theirs. Celebrate holidays. Remember birthdays. Make your mom’s famous potatoes and remember your dad singing Johnny Cash at the top of his lungs when he had a little too much whiskey in the jar. Also forgive them. Your dad did the best he could with the tools he had. Generations separate the two of you. He loved you, even when you think he didn’t.

Your body will be violated, victimized, brutalized, and vandalized. It wasn’t your fault. You were not asking for it. It doesn’t matter where you were, no means motherfucking no, and you screamed, pleaded, and cried “Please don’t!”, “No!”, and “Stop!” so many times your voice went mute and your throat caught on fire. Your body was used as a weapon, It was used as a warning. You will start to hate it. You see the scar left on your knee where you were shoved onto the gravel, your clothes ripped off, your body violated by that of another. It wasn’t your fault. You were not asking for it. You were trying to do good, to help, to save someone else. Don’t start hating your body. It wasn’t your body’s fault. Don’t neglect it. Don’t turn the lights off. Don’t hide it in clothes that do not fit. Don’t stop caring about your beautiful eyes, your full lips, your long hair. It was not your fault. Your way of coping will be to hate your body, to hide it, to despise it, to abuse it as a form of self-defense from boogeymen that hurt you once, but cannot hurt you again. Love your body. Don’t punish it. By punishing it, you give them more than what they took from you – you give them power long after they are gone.

You will find love – real, true, genuine love. It won’t be where you expect to find it. It won’t be with who you expect to find it with. Your heart will heal. You will open yourself up. And he will be there. And it will be amazing. It will be beautiful. You will be blessed. You will never be able to look back at that one moment where you fell in love because you will be lucky enough to fall in love with him over and over and over and over every day. He will accept your baggage, even carrying it for you when you can’t carry it all on your own any more. Especially then. He will cherish you. He will believe in the power of your goodness. He will tell you that you are beautiful. Let him. Don’t slap away his compliments. He means them. He will be your Lloyd Dobler and will ruin you from loving anyone else ever again. And he will love her like she is his own, saying she was meant just for him. Enjoy every moment of it. The bad times, the good times, and the in-between times. He’s worth it. So are you.

Appreciate the small things and hold onto them. They are your hope. They are your salvation. They are what help you make it through when you feel like you just cannot go on anymore and that everyone else around would be so much better off if you just ceased to be. It will feel like you will never make it through. It will feel like every day is a struggle. Hold onto those little things. They will help you move on, move forward, reclaim your life, and instead of wasting away by simply existing, those small things will help you once again BE.

When life gets tough, put on your boxing gloves and fucking fight back. Fight for your life. Fight as if everything is on the line and you just need to make it through this round and you come out the other side with your hand raised in the air a motherfucking champion. Because you are. You make it through.

You rise.

Love,
The Strong Woman You Become

This Curvy Girl Guide Community post comes to us from Amy. Amy is a gypsy with itchy feet. She fled the Midwest for the South, trading unbearable winters for humid summers. She believes in 80′ s hair bands, great books, and the healing power of grilled cheese and tomato soup.

I don’t think there is anything more to say.

We live in a society that is becoming increasing vocal and distrustful about the images we see.

I’m so proud of us.

Post babies, I became compulsively aware and jealous of something I called “mom style.” Which was a term I bestowed upon ultra stylish moms who moved about society looking effortlessly chic and trendy, while I labored through my days frumpy and milk stained.

Lisa Pellegrini Penzone is on point. She’s an athlete, photographer, working Italian super mom to her son Calvin, and has made embracing her new body and love of skinny jeans look like a piece of cake.

I was so excited to pin Lisa down for a quick chat about affordable style, body confidence and some serious accessory envy.

How would you describe your body?

Hourglass… with a little more sand in the bottom.  I love my shoulders and strong arms, my ample (for me) chest (thank you, breastfeeding!), my big, round booty and most of all, my defined waist.

You work outside the home, so how are you able to translate your personal style into an office setting?

We generally have a casual dress code at work, so this season, I’ve been living in my Old Navy Rockstar jeans and boots (thanks Brittany for helping me find these awesome jeans!).  The same goes for my life outside of work – comfortably stylish whether I’m on the floor playing with my son, out and about shopping with my family, or working hard at a photo shoot.

My favorite outfits these days revolve around statement shoes and my aforementioned Rockstar jeans.  I love how effortlessly versatile and chic knee-high boots are, and the jeans fit and flatter very nicely.  And I’m always on the lookout for cute, fitted tops, and I like to rock the scarf look now and then.  My favorite outfits incorporate all of these elements and are just the right balance of comfort and style for me, so my confidence soars and I feel my best.

If I have to pick just one place, I pick Old Navy.  I am very frugal, and I definitely lean toward classic looks as opposed to jumping from trend to trend, so I can score both everyday basics and stylish staples without spending too much.  But I do also love browsing Modcloth… maybe one day I’ll splurge on something amazing there.  I’d love to add more quirk to my wardrobe.

Name your 5 beauty must haves. 

1. Maybelline Dream Fresh BB Cream in Medium. I didn’t have the best skin as a teen and though my twenties, but though these days I’m usually pretty clear, I like to even out my skin tone, and this cream works so well without appearing cakey or feeling thick and heavy.  And I love that it also moisturizes and provides SPF 30 protection.

2. Burt’s Bees Lip Shimmer in Rhubarb.  I am addicted to this lip gloss.  It feels nourishing, the color is divine, and I love that it’s all natural.

3. Cover Girl’s Lash Blast Volume Mascara.  For the money, this is by far my favorite mascara – goes on lush (but not clumpy) and defines lashes at the same time.  I would seriously do a commercial for it.

4. Moroccan Argan Oil. I have crazy hair – it’s wavy/curly, thick, on the dry side, and there’s a lot of it.  This oil helps tame frizz and provide moisture to help bring out my curls, and it smells heavenly.

5. Clinique Happy for Men. The men’s cologne is just a little less sweet than the women’s perfume, and I swear it lasts longer.

Confidence!  Dress YOUR body, just as it is, the way it makes YOU feel your best.  When you’re truly confident in yourself, you walk a little taller, hold your head up a little higher, strut a little more… you glow!

You can read more about Lisa on her blog, A Magical Little Journey, check out her amazing photography, or get your foodie fix from her husband, The Impulsive Chef. 

Want more curvy fashion from real women? Click here to check out our previous featured CGG stars!

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This is Whitney of the 107.5 KZL morning show Jared & Katie in Greensboro North Carolina, in a series Whitney calls, Fat Girl Dancing.

I originally cringed at the title, andwas afraid it might be derogatory or demeaning or being used as a gimmick, so I purposefully didn’t click play on this video for two days.

Then I watched it.

I have exactly none of the moves Whitney rocks, and she can call herself whatever she wants. You own this, Whitney. Own it.

Giving the middle finger to the stereotypical plus size girl narrative? Done.

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One of the biggest perks of running the Curvy Girl Guide is meeting some absolutely jaw dropping curvy fashionistas, and then getting to share them directly with you. I mean, what’s more inspiring than tangible beauty tips, tricks and pictures as it relates to your actual body?

Move over Vogue, we got this.

I was honored to share the January issue of Ladies Home Journal with Emmie Sanford, a thirty two year old fashion, body and social media powerhouse. Her blog, Authentically Emmie, documents the highs and lows of trying to live healthfully after a binge eating disorder left her at 455 pounds. Emmie turned to fashion and fitness to help her establish self worth, and that has turned into her passion.

She’s amazing, right?

I was so excited to have a moment with her this week to pick her brain about style, her body, and

How would you describe your body?

My body is resilient. It has been through so much: diets since the age of 6, Fen-Phen at age 13, fat camp for several years, compulsive exercising, then a binge eating disorder. I have worn clothes from a size 16-34, and used to fight my body all the way. These days, I just appreciate that it is still providing for me after all I’ve done to wreck it. I also describe my body as oval. Previously, I would say I had no shape, but oval is a shape, and knowing that has taught me how to best dress it to feel most confident. Lastly, because I know it’s a point of contention for some, I describe my body as plus size. There is nothing negative about those words – it’s a descriptor. The only negativity that comes from those words is when others fight so hard against it. Embrace it.

Does your personal style play a part in your life?

It plays such a significant role in my life! For work, I focus on having clients that are in the fashion, beauty, fitness, or lifestyle spaces. These are the things that make me happy, and I pinch myself at how fun my work is every day. It ties directly into my blogging hobby, as I write extensively about my personal style and how it’s given me such confidence. If I’m feeling horrible or low energy or anti-social, putting on a great outfit, doing your hair, and putting on some makeup can transform your mind to a much better place. The only part of home life that it plays is the extra rolling rack I had to put in my bedroom because my clothes weren’t all fitting in the closet. Thankfully, the husband doesn’t seem to mind!

Tell me about your favorite outfit.

I am all about skater dresses lately. They have a simple shape, are A-line, so they are forgiving in the tummy area where I feel most self conscious. They are a flirty length without being vulgar. Since it’s so cold, wearing them with tights is a great option. This black skater dress from ASOS is so versatile. To add color (and much needed warmth), the tights from We Love Colors were a fun pop. The jacket from MYNT 1792 is something I haven’t wanted to take off all fall/winter: it’s classic khaki and black colors plus a fun asymmetrical zip and buckle details at the waist add so much visual interest. Add a pair of booties and a great handbag and it’s a super easy, and super comfortable look.

Where is your favorite place to shop?

I’m obsessed with Gwynnie Bee. 80% of my clothes in the past 2 years have been “borrowed” from Gwynnie Bee, and it’s been amazing to try new brands and styles I never would have imagined before. Plus they carry most of my favorite brands: Kiyonna, IGIGI, Karen Kane, TBags Los Angeles, ASOS Curve, and MYNT 1792. For basics like denim and tees, I always seem to default to Old Navy.

Name your 5 beauty must haves?

1. Rosebud Salve – this can be used on chapped lips, cuticles, dry skin – it’s amazing. Right now, I slather it on my lips before going to sleep and wake up with all the dryness gone.

2. NARS Smudge Proof Eyeshadow Base – This will make your eyeshadow last all day long, no matter how oily your eyelids usually get. Works great.

3. Bareminerals Marvelous Moxie Lipstick in Never Say Never – I was never much of a lipstick person until I was given this, and I’m totally in love. It’s a hot pink color which oddly enough seems to go with everything. Long lasting without being drying.

4. Urban Decay 24/7 Glide-On Eye Pencil – they have great shades and they glide on smooth and stay put throughout the day. My favorite color right now is Vice, which is a pearly eggplant.

5. Lots of water – my skin can get pretty problematic, and drinking water is an easy way to keep the system flushed and skin hydrated.

Try on everything and don’t worry about the size on the label – go with what fits. Even if it looks like something your Aunt Pearl would wear – experiment with different styles and brands. Things look so much different on every BODY and once you get things on, it’s quite likely you’ll see yourself in an entirely different light!

Emmie blogs about her weight and style at Authentically Emmie. She is also active on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest and Google+. 

Want more curvy fashion from real women? Click here to check out our previous featured CGG stars!

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I could introduce this, but I think the creators do it best. By the end? I cheered. Now get me a sledge hammer!

“Phat Miley doesn’t advocate living a deliberately unhealthy lifestyle of gluttony, but uses the overzealous images of indulging in both healthy and unhealthy foods as a tongue-in-cheek method of illustrating the need for society to stop attempting to control everyone else’s diet through judgement and criticism. Ultimately, I know that fresh local produce and an active lifestyle is what will make me the best version of myself, but I don’t need to hide in shame or justify to others when I want the occasional doughnut/Cheerwine/cheeseburger. And neither should you. “

-Liz Pardue-Schultz

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