5 Influential Ladies of Drum and Bass

Nu:sounds Music

It’s international women’s day so I thought i’d pick out five of my favourite Ladies in the DNB scene. There are loads more but these are the first that came to mind!

Kemistry & Storm

Rocking parties since the nineties and part of the crew that formed a little label known as Metalheadz, we had to start with the late great Kemistry and still smashing it on the regular Storm.

Riya

A now familiar voice in Drum and Bass since breaking onto the scene featuring on tracks such a Lenzman’s ‘Open Page’ is Riya. Riya then went onto release her own album ‘Sublimation’ on Spearhead Records in 2015 and her live PA’s are now a regular fixture at events accross the world.

DJ Flight

A regular Metalheadz resident with experience playing on stations like 1xtra and Rinse, as this recent Sun and Bass mix shows DJ Flight is proper selector!

Jenna…

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#100GoodThings – Make Humanity Great Again

2016 sure knows how to kick us when we’re down, doesn’t it?

I tried to count how many terrorist attacks there have been this year, and gave up after thirty – before realising that I was ONLY LOOKING AT SEPTEMBER. Let that sink in.

Bowie died, and the fabric of the universe melted – Prince, Alan Rickman, Victoria Wood – to name a few. Brussels, Brexit, and now President Fart. I mean, come on universe, give us room to breathe.

So some beautiful Twitter pals of mine, Perri and Niall and I have decided that we aren’t letting hate win, and you shouldn’t either.

After a year that has fallen to hate, sexist, racism, prejudice, distrust, and fragmented communities, it’s so so easy to feel lost and disheartened. To give up.

But this is still our planet. We still have to live here, and we still love the people on it.

Each good deed has a ripple effect. Each good person makes a difference. And when one good person does a good thing, and another joins them, it has a snowball effect. Soon a hundred good people are making real change.

Today, I signed up as a Samaritans volunteer. Yesterday, I joined Fawcett Society, a charity for women’s rights.

And so begins #100GoodThings. Each day, do a good deed. It’s as simple as that. Each day do one thing that helps someone else. Tweet it with the hashtag. And soon, we have a whole feed of good deeds. A good feed, if you will.

If everyone does one good thing a day, imagine how quickly the world will become amazing. Miss a day? No fear, post something positive you saw.

Some ideas of good deeds, you ask?

How about joining a charity you care about?
Donating christmas presents to the salvation army so a family in need can have a good Christmas?
Give your old clothes to a charity shop.
Volunteer at a soup kitchen, or a homeless shelter, or for the samaritans
Send me some warm clothes to give to shelters and rough sleepers
Help someone with their gardening
Find a lonely person, have a cuppa with them.
Buy a coffee for someone on the street
Help someone with their homework
Listen to someone’s problems without talking about yourself
LITERALLY ANYTHING – there’s so much room for you to be bloody wonderful. Do what feels right. But just DO something.

In response to the election result, I shared this on Facebook, and it pretty much sums up how I feel about not giving in.

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It’s time to be the best version of you, the kindest version of you. Bitterness isn’t going to fix this shit storm, only positivity can do that. Stand up for your fellow human, stand up for what you believe in, stand up for each other, stand the fuck up.

Be the person you’d be proud to tell your mum about. Be the sort of person Lin Manuel Miranda would write a musical about.

Be good. 100 days. 100 good things.

Ready?
Let’s go.

 

The Body Coach: Three Weeks In (and no further)

Okay, so you might have seen my post a few weeks back about joining up to The Body Coach’s 90DAYSSS plan.

I explained in detail my reasons for doing the plan – and now I’m checking in with an update!

First of all – my reasons for getting healthy have remained the same. My body is good to me. It fights off disease, it takes me on nights out, it’s rad. I love it, and it deserves to be treated with the same care with which I treat my other loved ones. And I love me, and so I deserve to feel awesome and healthy.

Read: this was not about ‘getting skinnier and prettier’.

So I’ll start off by telling you two things about The Plan.

  1. I’m not on it anymore.
  2. I wouldn’t recommend it to others.

And here’s why…

The Cult

When I mentioned on Facebook that I was starting the plan, a friend of mine added me to the an unofficial ‘support group’. The posts were, and are..disturbing. There is, and I don’t wish to overstate this, a cult-like worship of Joe Wickes (the douche who says BOSH a lot).

They call themselves Leanies.

There is a strictness among them – with weighing of macronutrients, which I get is important if you wish to stick to the plan religiously – but also with the group in general. People are in there all day, discussing what people can and can’t do. Buying the exact brand that Wickes promotes of EVERYTHING. It’s unsettling. I have a skeptical nature anyway, and this had all of my alarms buzzing.

The Science

Okay so when you sign up you’re given an adviser to email directly with questions and issues. When my plan came through, it explained that the only time I was allowed to eat carbs was after a workout. This…was interesting. So I did some research.

I found a couple studies suggesting that exercising in a carb-deprived state could fuck with your oestrogen levels (I had detailed in my questionnaire that I have PCOS and hormones can be an issue for me).

I emailed my adviser. He told me that ‘no-one has ever reported back’ a drop in oestrogen, and that I should continue working out in a carb-deprived state. Which wasn’t overly reassuring as, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never checked my oestrogen levels after a workout to report back to anyone.

A little more digging showed that working out before eating carbs can result in:

  • decreased thyroid output
  • increased cortisol output
  • decreased testosterone
  • impaired mood and cognitive function
  • muscle catabolism
  • suppressed immune function.

Not too hot.

The Workouts

Yes, I know HIIT is all the rage at the moment. Here’s the thing with that. I wasn’t asked when I started about my resting heart rate. I happen to know it’s above average. When I workout too hard on a treadmill for example, I get a  warning telling me to take it easy, as my heart rate can get quite high.

HIIT is intended to raise your heart rate. Wickes says in his videos to make your heart pump so hard you “feel physically sick.” For a healthy person, that might be okay, maybe. Doesn’t sound it to be honest but I’m not a sports scientist, I don’t know. But for me? I know that shit’s dangerous. I know my physical limits. And this brings us back to the cult – sorry, I mean facebook group. They’re constantly bullying each other in to going ‘harder’.

The Meals

OH MY GOD I have never seen anything so unrealistic! The 15 minutes thing is clearly something best saved for his books. All of the ‘macro measured’ recipes I was given consisted of about 20 ingredients, which required either a full day to prepare a week’s worth, or a good hour making dinner every day (and a shit tonne of washing up either way).

Working full time, going to screenings, being in bands, all this shit I fill my time with – there is no time left for me to spend my whole life on a meal that doesn’t even taste that great.

It’s not a life-friendly plan. I can’t carry a lunchbox everywhere I go and crack out salmon mousse in public.

The Results

I’ve done healthy living before. Regular runs and a lack of shitty foods, and seen results straight away. Three weeks on this and I didn’t lose a single pound, or a single inch – oh, and I felt no different.

Sorry, Leanies. But I’m not buying it. I think any extra amount of exercise and change in diet can show results, I’m not at all convinced your magic formula is what’s doing it. I feel I could quite easily eat healthier and exercise more (which is the basic idea, isn’t it?) without paying £150 for it, and get better results.

So on that note, I’ve joined a gym. I am already enjoying my new self-care a hell of a lot more than The Plan.

The Body Coach & Body Positivity

Good day my lovely readers – Georgia, here. (If you’re new here, Sulky Bitch has a team of writers)

I recently signed up to The Body Coach 90 Day SSS Plan along with my co-blogger, Anna. I’ve also been preaching self-acceptance and body confidence for the past year or so, as learning to accept myself for who I am completely changed my life for the better. I want to talk about how the plan is going (I don’t know if it’s going to work or if I’m going to hate it) on Twitter and on here so I just wanted to do a little intro to the plan, and to a couple of the reasons I’m doing it.

I am a size 16-18 at the moment, I weigh just over 13.5 stone (I’m probably the biggest I’ve been at the moment, bar when I broke my leg and turned into a blimp-woman) and at 5’7″ that puts me in the overweight category (though we all know BMI isn’t as trustworthy as once believed.)

Capture

However, I’m also the happiest I’ve ever been with my body. I used to hate it. I used to hate myself and my body. But then I realised about 18 months ago – this is the only one I have. It does everything for me, it keeps me alive, it takes me awesome places. It’s flawed sure, but when I look in the mirror, I don’t see a fat person who needs to change. I see a bad ass who is doing what she loves in life. I’m not deluded – I have rolls and bumps that aren’t classified as ‘perfect’ by any stretch of the imagination – but I have accepted them. I don’t let them define me as a person or affect how I perceive myself or the world, or how I act around others. I don’t obsess over it, rant about it, cry because of it. I’m also aware that it’s down to my own habit of enjoying food and wine far too much, and perhaps not moving as much as I should.

And lately, I’ve indulged a LOT. I’m busy with work, screenings, interviews, writing, band practice, gigs and keeping my house from looking like a shit hole, and so when I have a spare moment I’ll go out for drinks or dinner – or I’ll order a pizza and just relax for a few hours. I know that this is unhealthy.

I used to be the kind of person who would crash diet. I tried all the fads, including something called the ‘soup diet’, slimming world (which actually, was pretty great), paleo (utter bullshit) and all sorts. Diets that are healthy, and that yo-yo, and end up with me getting bored and getting unhealthy again.

So I feel really positive about this decision. Because it’s not being forced by negativity, like my previous ‘diets’ have been. It’s coming from a pretty relaxed and positive place. And I feel like forking out the gut-wrenching £147 to sign up and being given a personal tailored long-term plan is the kick up the ass I need to get going. I don’t want to feel sluggish, to avoid the stairs where possible. I don’t want to sweat or to get chubrub when I go to the beach.

And on a slight side note, I also have PCOS, a condition that is exacerbated by a person’s weight, so whilst my case of it is pretty mild, I’m hoping it makes me a little more ‘regular’.

I’m on my way, hopefully, to just becoming a healthier person. ( I’m also a runner, though I am in hibernation due to hating running when it’s hot. So hopefully this’ll get me back on the pavement, too.)

So on that note…I start on Monday. I may or may not be treating this week as one last hurrah, by eating EVERYTHING. Who knows for sure. Wish me luck! And I’ll be done in time for Christmas cake 😉

And yes, I will be having cheat days, or I’ll go insane 😛

Side note. If you are bigger, and you feel fucking great – YOU LOOK FUCKING GREAT, YOU DON’T GOTTA DO ANYTHING UNLESS YOU WANT TO, OKAY?

And for reference, here’s some pictures of me now:

Suicide Squad – Review (Spoiler Free)

We Make Movies On Weekends

Suicide Squad has been a long time coming, with rumours, teasers and a ridiculously star spangled cast. Then the first trickle of reviews began to come out in the past week leading up to its release, and things weren’t looking great. There was even a petition (granted largely by teenaged Comic Book fans who hadn’t yet seen the film) to close down Rotten Tomatoes in response to the poor reviews from some critics.

Well, We Make Movies On Weekends went to check out what was becoming an increasingly intriguing film and – after a visit from the cast (yes, we geeked out at that a LOT) during which writer and director David Ayer appeared to try and qualify the film for us critics before it had even begun, almost appealing to us not to slam it (never a promising start) – the time had come and up the credits rolled…

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How I Cope

I have been in a bit of a funk for the last two weeks or so. That’s putting it delicately. Today I woke up, so to speak. Apologies in advance for a long blog.

Putting it slightly less delicately, I’ve been dealing with an illness. I suffer from manic depression and anxiety, though over the last few years I’ve plateaued a little bit. I wrote a blog a while back about  recovery and how I had managed to pull myself in to a place of self-love and self-acceptance.

But it is, after all, an illness, and it can come back. Sometimes yes, I do reach dizzying heights of productivity and grandiose visions of what could be (for example doing more than a reasonable amount of research on how I could become Prime Minister. Yeah). And sometimes, yes, I feel low.

I won’t go in to too much detail on the word ‘low’ or how I respond to it personally, as I’m pretty sure a lot of you have dealt with it yourself in one way or another, or know someone who has. But in a nut shell, I was walking around in a fog. I couldn’t enjoy things. Anything, in fact. The idea of living all the years possibly ahead of me when the world is such a horrible place, how desperately I want to help so many causes and how little I can to do about any of them. Fears I’ll never achieve my life goals, and moreover fears that my life goals are ultimately futile anyway. A very overwhelming sense of pointlessness. And that really is the tip of the iceberg – I could do whole blog on what venomous bile Brian (we’ll get to him in a minute) spits at me when I’m in ‘the bad place’, but that is contrary to the point of this blog. This blog is about coping.

This morning, as I sat on the train to work, I had the very distinct feeling of putting on one’s glasses after a particularly extended time without them. You get used to the haze, to the blurry featurelessness. Until you put the specs back on, and suddenly the green blobs are leaves. Everything is a little crisper, and a little clearer. The sense of foreboding had ebbed, and it was like when the Grinch’s heart grows three sizes. I shed a little tear, thankful that I’d managed to float back to the top. Excuse the multi-metaphor paragraph here but it was the best I could describe it.

Brian

So I mentioned Brian a moment ago. I’ve suffered from anxiety for as long as I can remember, but only when I was 20 did someone put a name to it. Suddenly, everything clicked. The world wasn’t constantly falling down, with others failing to see it. Shortly after this, during a particularly fervent panic attack, I attempted to write in a message to a friend that my brain was being a dick, and my panicky thumbs accidentally typed ‘Brian’. Since then, he has been the disembodied voice of my irrationality. If I’m convincing myself that I’m worthless, that I’m a failure, that I’m fat, that those people laughing behind me are laughing  at me – well, that’s not me saying those things at all. Because me – the actual me – well I would never say those things to myself. I am super proud of who I am, of who I’ve become and what I have planned. I love how I look, and I love what I do, and I love my life views. I’m a confident and empowered person. It took me a while to get that way (and again, we’ll get to it in a minute) but I am. The voice in my head telling me that I don’t deserve to be that person is no voice of mine, and I take no responsibility for it. That voice is Brian, the mental illness douche, who occasionally crops up to be an asshole. This coping mechanism is more invaluable than I can explain. It gives my friends and me something to blame, something to poke at and bitch about when I’m feeling out of sorts. I highly recommend it.

Self Love

No, get your mind out of the gutter, I’m talking about empowerment. The thing that keeps Brian at bay a lot more than he used to be is my new-found confidence. I found it about a year and a half ago. I wish I could explain where or how, but I think I just came to realise that as long as I am doing what I care about, I’m true to my beliefs, and I surround myself only with those who truly love me for me, everything and everyone else doesn’t matter. Essentially, I spent so long giving a fuck about every little thing that…well, I ran out. I have no fucks left to give. I wear what I want. I don’t wear makeup to make myself acceptable to look at, because I’m already ‘acceptable’, that thought is just ridiculous. (Sidenote: Yes I’m aware I do wear a fuck tonne of and spend a fuck tonne on makeup. This is because it’s fucking fun and looks awesome. I do this for me, and other makeup junkies to lust over, and don’t feel the need to do it all the god damn time just so I feel I can go out in public).

This is one of the hardest parts of becoming the person I have, and I know people get pretty frustrated when I offer it as a solution when it’s obviously not that easy. So try starting small. Next time you go to put make up on, wear stomach holding in underwear, whatever, ask yourself – do I really give a shit, or am I doing this for other people’s benefit? And if it’s the latter, sack it off. If your Brian is telling you that other people think you’re ugly (which they don’t, I promise), ask yourself – does their opinion matter? The answer is always no, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. Give it a go. Try doing it for a day. I promise it’s life changing. If you feel like you’re struggling with it, tweet me @UpAndGeorgia, I AM HERE FOR YOU. And for the record, I think you’re beautiful, inside and out.

Acceptance & Weathering the Storm

So now we’re on to what was different this time. Why was it only two weeks when before I’ve fallen into ‘the bad place’ for months on end, deeper and deeper, never wanting to leave the house, and on the verge of throwing in the towel?

I’ve accepted that, whilst Brian is not me, he is a part of me. This is an illness that I have. When I have flare-ups it’s like any disease. You have to ride it out. Medicate it if you need to (I don’t personally but I can’t stress enough that you should never worry about seeing a doctor asap if you’re feeling this way. It’s just like taking medication for an ear infection or whatever. It is an illness.). Be sad for a while. Don’t try to force yourself better. It’s totally fine not to be fine for a while.

My friends know, now, about Brian. So if I need to be sad, I tell them that I am sad. If I need to talk about it, I talk about it. If not, they just let me be sad. But I know that they are there, I know that they are here for me. And that’s all I need sometimes.

One pal who also suffers told me last week that sadness is like a beach ball in a swimming pool. If you try and push it down, it keeps buoying back up with fiercer intensity. If you just let it be there, accept it, eventually it’ll just float away. Sure, it could come back, but it will float away again.

Sometimes, you just need to ride it out with people you love around you, accepting that you need to be sad just now. Like Eeyore’s friends do.

TLDR: It’s okay not to be okay, your illness does not define you but it is an illness and should be treated with self-care as such. You will be okay again, you matter, you are you and that is the most beautiful thing you can be. 

Oh, I also bought myself a Purrmaid set of lunch boxes from Paperchase to cheer myself up, but that’s just me. 😉

Happy Now?

Katyboo1's Weblog

It is day four in the Big Brexit house.

I had hoped after Friday’s absolute catastrophe of a day that the country might somehow magically rally over the weekend. I mean, when you plunge your country into possible ruin on the promise of a golden future that will allow it to rise like a phoenix from the flames, you have a plan, right?

As it turns out, you don’t. The only person that seems to have any plan at all, and be acting on it rather than just spouting meaningless Churchillian rhetoric is Nicola Sturgeon, and I can’t even vote for her.

I was distraught and angry on Friday. I had hoped to feel better by today. Instead I am running on barely controlled rage and getting more enraged by the moment.

Here are a few things I am furious about:

Firstly, leave voters telling me to calm down. I’m sorry…

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13 things I wish someone had told me when I was 13

By Hannah Bundock

Puberty isn’t an easy time to be a girl. Hair starts growing in annoying places, the arrival of spots mean that you’re experimenting (usually unsuccessfully) with make-up and you suddenly have a ton of emotions that you just can’t deal with. Yep, being a teenager can suck, so here are a few things to help you out on your journey to womanhood. Things I really wished I’d known…

Never dry shave

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And especially never dry shave and then put on deodorant! You may as well rub stinging nettles under your armpits. It hurts! There is always time to do a proper wet shave. Always!

Never shave an unconventional place

eyebrows

You won’t be the first ill-informed youth to think it’s a great idea to shave your arms, stomach or eyebrows…it’s not. There is a reason it hasn’t caught on. As too many of us know, once you shave one of these areas the hair never grows back the same. It grows through thick dark and furiously, so much so that you are condemned to a life of plucking evermore. Honestly don’t do it.

Never wear new knickers when you’re due on

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It seems obvious but so many of us forget this, even us ‘grown ups’. When you’re due on it’s strictly granny panties. No new underwear, nothing white, just gross old pants. Trust me it’s really irritating when Aunt Flow ruins your favourite pair of pants.

Never use a tampon just because you’re due on

Pulling out a dry tampon like..

Pulling out a dry tampon like..

Another period one, but really they should teach you these things in school! Never use a tampon unless you are actually on your period. When I was young, I made the fatal error of using a tampon just in case I came on in my lesson. Removing a dry tampon is ridiculously painful; genuinely thought I’d pulled out a fallopian tube or something.

You can only use being on your period as an excuse to get out of P.E so many times

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Teachers are cleverer than students give them credit. Believe it or not, even the men are aware that periods only come once a month. Therefore you have to use this excuse sparingly.

Never send a love letter to your teacher

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Not something I’ve done personally, but I know people. Sadly your love for Mr Dreamy Eyes the Maths teacher is going to be unrequited.  To him you are his student and worse than that, you are a child. He’s never going to think of you that way. Save yourself an embarrassing day talking about your feelings in the headteachers office and tear up that note!

It’s not a race to lose your virginity

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There is no rush to have sex. It doesn’t make you grown up or cool despite what some of your peers may think. Plus when you’re actually an adult, nobody cares. Wait until the right time with the right person. And if he/she isn’t willing to wait, they’re not the right person. Simple as that. Also, the kids in your class talking loudly about their sexual conquests… they’re lying.

An orgasm should feel amazing

 

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So when you do find the right person (and you’re aged 16 or over) and the time is right, sex should feel good. Well, not the first time, that’s usually awkward and a bit painful, but after that. You will know when you have had an orgasm. If you’re not sure, you haven’t had one.

Foundation isn’t always the answer

face

That spot on your face, it isn’t that big. It only looks big because it’s on your face and you’re staring at it in the mirror and therefore you think it’s huge. The rest of us didn’t even notice it. You don’t have to cover up every blemish, it’s good to let your skin breath a bit. But if you do decide to use foundation please, please match it to your skin tone. Having a giant orange face on top of your ghostly white neck is far more noticeable than your tiny zit. Why do they even sell foundation that colour?

Eyeliner is an art

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Eyeliner, especially liquid eyeliner is tricky. It looks so easy to put on, but it’s not. It takes practice, lots of practice. Never try and rush it, because it will inevitably go wrong and don’t try to put liquid eyeliner on your bottom eyelid unless you’ve reached expert level. If not you’ll spend the next 20 minutes trying to fish black globs of make-up out of your eye. If you do successfully apply your eyeliner, be sure to take it off before bed. It’ll only take you 5 mins and it’ll prevent you from looking like a member of Kiss in the morning and from future eye pain. Trust me.

Sneaking alcohol out of the house

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Stealing a small amount of Mum and Dad’s alcohol seems like a clever idea, but it’s not. You will never be brave enough to sneak out enough to even get yourself tipsy whilst sitting in the park with your friends. Plus your Mum will know… Mums know everything.

Don’t aspire to be one of the cool kids

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I know that they have loads of friends, they wear the right clothes and they always seem to be laughing, but you don’t need to be like those kids. Be yourself, find your own little group of friends and stop trying so hard. In the real world (the adult one) the ‘cool kids’ aren’t any more successful than the rest of us. Plus, the older you get the more you’ll realise that those kids aren’t actually that happy. They fall out amongst themselves all the time and bitchiness is rife. You don’t need that drama.

You’ll be fine

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It may seem like the world is ending today and that nothing will ever be ok again, but it will. You’ll be fine. Next year you won’t even remember the things that are stressing you out today. A lot of what you are feeling at present are hormones and they eventually settle down.  Hang in there. It does get better.

Five things my adult self does not give a fuck about anymore

By Kelsey Champion

I’d like to say I was an introverted, angsty teenager; but actually I was a gobby little bitch. I mean, now I’m a gobby big bitch but that’s neither here nor there.

The thing is with being a teenager, is that everything is a big deal! There is so much pressure to fit in or be ‘cool’ – and the fact that I instinctively put the word cool in quote marks leads me to believe that I never was and never will be it.

I’d love to reach back in time and slap my 16 year old self round the face and shout “get a grip! None of this matters!”

Here’s a list of things I realise I used to care about, but now frankly I haven’t got a single fuck to give.

 

Pooping

Yep. I went there. I know I’m not alone in saying at school or college, there was NO WAY you’d answer nature calling on the back door. If anything, the girls in my school pretended it wasn’t a thing. Someone I know had to go to hospital because she wouldn’t even pee at school; she gave herself a nasty infection. In all honesty, I don’t know how true that is but for the sake of argument, let’s say it is.

Now, however, certain friends and I talk about it openly. One friend, who for the purpose of anonymity let’s call… ok I can’t think of another name, it’s Georgia… Sulky Bitch Editor, Georgia and I talk openly about it; when we are, when we can’t, when someone walks in after and you stand there proud as punch. Pooping at work is a particular favourite. (Ed’s note: Don’t forget hangover poop!)

Anyway, the point is pooping in public is no longer something I give a fuck about.

Body hair

I’m a busy girl with a thriving social life and a demanding job which gets a lot of my attention, small details like a bit of leg hair are not something I care about!

[Read busy girl with a thriving social life and a demanding job which gets a lot of my attention as ‘lazy girl with an addiction to Netflix and sitting down’.]

Some might say its ‘gross’ or ‘unladylike’ but let’s be fair, look at how many times I’ve said fuck in this post so far, did you ever really think I was ladylike?

Also, ‘ladylike’ can fuck itself. There’s no such thing. See this post if you think it is.

Early nights

I used to force myself to stay up late because going to bed before midnight was lame. Sleeping felt like a waste of my valuable time so I would do my best to stay awake as much as possible. This in turn meant that I would oversleep in the morning and then start the cycle all over again. But now if I want to go to bed, I’m going. Even if its 7pm; if the Sandman visits I am sure as shit going to sleep.

Wobbly thighs

Hello, I’m a real life human female. I’m a firm believer (the only time I can use the word ‘firm’ to describe myself) that there are many more important things whether you can fit in TopShop clothes or look good in a bikini. For the record, no I can’t and hells yeah I do – respectively. Now before I go any further, nothing I am saying is body shaming. If you are stick thin and HEALTHY then you’re gorgeous. If you are more voluptuous and HEALTHY then you’re gorgeous too. If you’re covered in scales with chronic flatulence and a tail and are HEALTHY then you are also gorgeous. I don’t believe a person’s size matters as long as they’re looking after themselves. Ok got it? Good.

I couldn’t care less if my thighs wobble when I walk. If you don’t like how it looks, well look at my face, if you don’t like that either, well… fuck yourself. My wobbly thighs aren’t hurting anyone – except when I’m in shorts and I get a touch of chub rub – so why should I feel the need to cover up or feel self-conscious about them?

Being a bitch

Some people look at a bossy man and think he is dominant, powerful, strong – all positive connotations. A bossy woman, however, is a bitch. If I think I can do something well, I’m going to. I believe if I have an opinion about it that I am well within my right to discuss it, however more often than not I will keep it to myself. But I’m slowly starting to learn that I have a voice and I have the right to use it. This blog is a particular outlet for such things. That does not make me a bitch. Being powerful and taking charge is not a bitch… if you think it is then I will show you what a bitch really is. I’m devilishly good at it.

Do you follow Sulky Bitch on Twitter? Well, you should! Tweet us your thoughts about this post. Anything you used to think was the end of the world but now you frankly couldn’t give a fuck? Let us know!

 

 

 

The A4 Waist Challenge? The Body Shaming Has GOT to Stop.

By Hannah Bundock

Hey, who’s heard about this new crazy trend of measuring yourself?

You hold up a piece of A4 paper in front of your stomach, and the aim is for your waist to be so small that it disappears behind it…How stupid is that?! Apparently it’s mainly taking off in China at the moment, but it’s only a matter of time before people over here start ‘rising to the challenge’ themselves, and I, personally, am dreading it.

Now I’m not going to lecture you all on how unhealthy it is for people to diet and exercise in extreme manners in order to meet this criteria; I’m assuming you lot have enough brain cells to figure that out for yourselves. Instead I want us all to look at the bigger picture, at female body image in general and the way it seems to divide us.

Usually it starts with a new trend, like the one above, thigh gaps or something of a similar nature, and then it develops into shaming of some sort.

The people who don’t have this new ‘desirable feature’ start to feel bad about themselves, or angry at those who are trying to impose this ‘ideal body image’ on them. In turn, these ladies will post things on social media criticising these features. I’ve seen everything from ‘You wouldn’t want a steak that was nothing but bone, why would you want a woman that way?’  ‘Real men like curves, only dogs go for bones’ right up to ‘There is no excuse for being fat.’  Enough is enough.

Most of the pressure we  feel these days is generated by other women. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a man post anything with regards to the weight he prefers his lady to be. Like, EVER! It’s us that seem to want to permanently pass judgement on other women. Why?! Seriously, what are we achieving by doing this? Of course, scrutinising others isn’t new – it’s a way of giving yourself a dirty little ego boost.

Have the confidence to enjoy your own body, and please, let’s stop putting each other down.


But in reality, as long as you are comfortable in your own body it honestly doesn’t matter what weight you are, or anyone else is. I genuinely believe that confidence is the sexiest aspect of any woman. To me, confidence doesn’t look like posting dozen of pictures of yourself to show off your ‘hot bod’, to me that looks like you’re fishing for compliments because you’re secretly insecure. Equally I don’t think confidence is posting insulting memes explaining why your body shape is so much more desirable than someone else’s. Skinny shaming and fat shaming, they are as bad as each other and they need to stop. The war needs to end.

Skinny Siren or Curvy Queen, we can all be beautiful in our own way. Let’s stop bickering among ourselves as to what a woman ‘should’ look like and enjoy the fact that we are all different.  Everyone has a different preference, so no matter what your body shape or style, you will be someone’s perfect 10. Screw it, be your own perfect 10. Who are you trying to impress? Have the confidence to enjoy your own body, and please, let’s stop putting each other down.