… do all those things that are frowned upon. You know, indulge yourself.

Whether it’s a bubble bath, another shot of espresso, a pair of wicked heels your calf muscles will regret loudly in the morning, an evening of Lifetime movies and Cherry Garcia, a gloriously fudgey brownie, a bottle of good wine that’s just a little bit too expensive, or the joy of really speaking your mind to someone without considering the consequences, there are things in life that really need doing.

Of course you can’t do all of them, and you can’t do them all the time. That’s why they’re indulgences and not physical necessities. Food, water, air, shelter, caffeine… these are basic necessities. Without them we literally cannot live for long. Okay, maybe caffeine is an exaggeration, but only a tiny one.

But indulgences are the things that make life feel really, really good. Any one of them  may be completely extraneous to the business of staying alive, but without them we don’t feel all that much like keeping on keeping on. That’s why along with the Red Cross bringing food and medical aid to disaster victims, there are also organizations that provide the children in those disasters with stuffed animals and groups that bring handmade quilts to people who are suffering dread long-term illnesses in hospitals. Sure, the quilts and the Teddy bears aren’t strictly needed. They just make surviving worth it.

So remember to indulge yourself in the rough times. Heck, even in the not-so-rough times, it doesn’t hurt to say yes to something every twice in a while just because it makes you smile.

Speaking of which, my friends, I’m off on a month of vacation from blogging. It’s been a couple years since I took more than a few days off, and I’m not quite sure what I’ll be doing with myself. It is, however, time to get in touch with a few things inside me.

Fear not, though. Come September, I’ll be back and tilting at windmills seven days a week. That’s kind of my indulgence. I just have the wonderful good fortune to get paid to do it.

Take care of yourselves! See you all in September.

Being a child of the sixties, I’ve been thinking a lot of late about one of the catchphrases of the era: If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.

And then I ran across the quote from Alice Walker that is currently festooning the head of this article. I think I like that version of the sentiment better. It’s not as accusing. It’s more welcoming. And  by being less aggressive in tone, it makes it easier for others to look at it and think to themselves ‘have I been paying my rent like a good citizen of the planet?’ rather than raising a mental middle finger and saying ‘and you’re telling me this while wearing those shoes?’

As I contemplated all of this, along came some fabulous news from Brit Fat Activist Charlotte Cooper. Her Bad Art Collective has been accepted to be Artists in Residence at the Researching Feminist Futures symposium at the University of Edinburgh in September.

Their project is called Bombarded By Images a multi-media performance based installation.

Cooper et al are tired of the phrase ‘Bombarded by images’ used in so many cultural discussions. For one thing, they feel that ‘media’ gets used to describe an impenetrable monolith, while the fact is that media… well… covers a heck of a lot of things that are approached from radically different angles. What’s more, the Bad Art Collective have decided they can be a medium, too, and bombard the world with very different images of fat, of womanhood, of feminism, and of random ponies.

And you know what? They can. I can. You can. We all can.

I don’t care what your cause is. I’ve chosen several for myself, and I write about them, talk about them, donate to groups fighting for the causes that matter to me. Your causes may be quite different from mine. That’s no biggie to me. I’m not even that much bothered if our causes are in direct conflict. I will disagree with them, but I can still engage with you as a human being without rancor. Each of us must find our own beliefs that work for us as individuals, and then act on those beliefs as our consciences direct us.

If you’re worried that you can’t be an activist because you can’t devote your whole life to one cause or you don’t have a lot of money, don’t panic. Just read this article from last year at All Things Wildly Considered about activism. Then figure out what matters to you.

Whether you choose feeding the hungry, FA, feminism, literacy, drug abuse prevention/treatment, fighting a disease that has affected your life, your church, atheism, animal rights, your favorite political party, free speech, the care and feeding of attractive rugby players, something else, or half a dozen different causes at once, just get involved in something. Care. Engage.

We all have something to give. Each and every one of us will need help at some point in some way. It feels good to pay the rent.

And there is nothing more superfantastic than passion.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the exclusivity of fashion and I’ve decided I just don’t buy it.

That being said, we ought to differentiate between Fashion and the Fashion Industry.

The mainstream fashion industry and media has its head so far up its own emaciated backside that it can use its own lungs as convenient and ergonomically sound in-flight neck pillows.  That’s not going to change any time soon, so take whatever good you can find from it as a pleasant surprise and leave the rest. My current scientifically bangin’ measurements are 53-36^1/2-54 and I cannot buy ready-to-wear from any major designer.  That is screwed up.  I have –albeit on a larger scale– pretty the exact same proportions as Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren and the Venus De frickin’  Milo.  If you can’t design clothes that look great on my figure *coughMiucciaPradacough* the problem? Is not with me.

But Fashion? Fashion is by no means the exclusive provenance of 15 year-old Eastern Bloc automatons with bones but no faces. Sure that may be what we see on the runways right now –although admittedly with the revival of the early 90′s looks, we’re getting a bit more diversity of look on the catwalk– but after poring through thousands of editorial fashion images this weekend, particularly from the How to be a F**king Lady tumblr stream which is beyond fabulous I’ve decided one thing:

When you create something unusual, maybe even shocking, put it on your body and  sell it so hard that it becomes fabulous by sheer force of will, THAT is Capital F Fashion. It doesn’t belong to the thin or tall or blonde or rich or whatever actress has a new movie coming out. It belongs to anyone with courage and courage doesn’t give a damn about measurements.

Which isn’t to say there’s anything wrong with wanting to be pretty, but good Fashion –like all good art– is challenging and challenging ain’t always pretty.

So take this as a call to arms.

If we want to do Fashion, we can do Fashion. In fact, as big girls, we might actually even have a natural advantage because we command more attention with our physical presence. After all, there’s a reason Cadillacs are in parades but those little SmartCars aren’t. BE the Cadillac, girls and go commit some Fashion.

At last, the big day is over. It could have gone like this:

Or it may have gone like this:

I’m hoping you all had a day more like illustration #1. I know I did. In fact, I’m still having it in an undisclosed location filled with leftover turkey and the last two crumbs of pumpkin pie. Also? We are watching the Thanksgiving episode of WKRP In Cincinnati. Good times, good times.

If your day looked too much like illustration #2, my advice is that you bookmark the articles in this series and pull them  out about next August. Read them, consider them, and then don’t hesitate to make different arrangements for November.

Remember, just because it’s Thanksgiving that doesn’t mean you have to wind up feeling like a turkey.

Okay, so say it’s getting down to the wire – which it pretty much is for Thanksgiving 2010 – and in spite of my excellent advice two weeks ago, you’re still about to sit down to a holiday dinner with someone who makes your life a waking nightmare.

What do you do? What do you do?

Well, first off, you don’t panic.

Panic never helps.

So here’s what you do while you’re not panicking.

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So once you’ve decided who you’re spending your Thanksgiving feeding and what general sort of food you’re having, it comes time to work out precisely how you’re going to make it all happen.

After all, you don’t want the day to feel like the Battersea Town Women’s Guild’s re-enactment of the Battle of Pearl Harbor.

You want something more like this.

(sorry about the links rather than illustrations, but for some reason WordPress isn’t letting me upload images, drat it)

Anyway. Site-related technical issues aside, the point of all this is that there are simple steps anyone can follow in order to produce a low-stress Thanksgiving, even if you’ve never roasted a turkey or polished a silver spoon in your life.

Here’s how you do it.

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Hey all!

Since we’re here in November, I’m going to talk about Thanksgiving this month. I love Thanksgiving. I love good food, good friends, and a reminder to sit down and count my blessings.

See, this is how I see Thanksgiving:

via

It’s sort of an awesome blend of Norman Rockwell and a rock concert with delicious food.

There are others, however, who see Thanksgiving like this:

via

… only with turkey.

If your Thanksgiving resembles illustration #2 more than illustration #1, you’re doing it wrong. Stop it. Get help now.

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