Alright everybody, who missed us? Well we missed YOU and while we’re not entirely sure what happened in the Manolosphere (one suspects the Manolo’s archnemesis, Herr Karl had a begloved hand in it) we hope you’ll forgive our absence.

Please bear with us, we are working out mani-ed fingers to the bone and we’ll be with you again as soon as the stable of well-oiled cabana boys Francesca and I keep for our own amusement have finished fanning the server down to a reasonable temperature.

Never Let Go!

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways . . .

It should seem obvious that one of the myriad reasons that a person may be Super Curvy is that he or she loves to eat. Another reason may be that he or she hates to eat, or rather, hates to cook. Either way, there is no way to extricate our Cushioniness from our relationship with food and exercise, as well as genes and health and hormones and stress and all sorts of other issues we all come here to ignore in favor of fabulous shoes and clothing and wit, oh my!

But there it is, we have to eat, and yet the question of what we eat and how much probably causes most of us no small amount of guilt and shame, whether it should or no.

So Francesca is here to say: IT IS OK TO LOVE FOOD. Loving food, talking about food, cooking food, buying food, and going out to eat food can be a glorious part of life, and does not need to cause embarrassment. You do not have to eat in private or be afraid to openly admit that savoring a fresh neopolitan is one of your favorite pleasures. In fact, savoring the neopolitan bite for bite – really, truly savoring it — is probably a way to eat just one neopolitan, rather than two (or four, as Francesca has done many, many times. And loved. every. single. bite.).

In any case, there is an interesting article in today’s New York Times about cupcakes. Francesca adores cupcakes! Francesca loves all cupcakes, whether from the bakery or the Entenmanns box. She is an equal-opportunity cupcake lover. Do you know what is one of Francesca’s favorite desserts of all time? The St. Patrick’s Day cupcakes of Entenmanns. Yes, it is true. I love licking off that green frosting, and then slowly sucking the chemically-cream frosting out of the crumbly cake. The chocolate topping comes last, always. It is a messy way to eat a cupcake, which is why Francesca performs this sacred ritual only in the presence of Those Who Understand.

Of course, there are also Very Fancy cupcakes being produced every day at specialty bakeries and at the homes of women all over the world who enjoy baking cupcakes as much as Francesca enjoys licking and biting and savoring them. What is better, a cupcake or sex? you ask. Francesca says: Give me a moment to consider.

You can enjoy a daily homage to these tempting treats at one of Francesca’s Top 10 blogs, Cupcakes Take the Cake.

Happy shopping and HAPPY HAPPY eating!

xoxo,

Francesca

British Department store chain John Lewis announced recently that they will be introducing new, larger-sized mannequins at their Peterborough branch. If the mannequins go over well there, they will be used throughout the chain soon.

The current mannequins used by John Lewis are equivilant to a US size 10. The average British woman wears approximately a size 16. The mannequins are size 14. This means the mannequins will still be smaller than the average customer, but by a much smaller margin.

In response to recent criticism of unrealistic images being used to sell women’s clothing, the chain made the somewhat radical decision to use a size twelve model on the cover of a recent swimsuit catalogue. The model, Lauren Moller, was brought in from South Africa because none of the agencies John Lewis usually hires models from had a girl that large on their books. They were directed to agencies that work with plus-size models.

“We were astonished,” a representative of the company said. “Size 12 isn’t big. It’s still quite slim.”

The catalogue was a hit, sales skyrocketed, and the company has decided to see if more of the same approach will continue to be successful.

So if any Big Girl readers are in Peterborough anytime soon, be sure to visit the local John Lewis and weigh in on the new mannequins.

A couple days ago, I had a couple pounds of bananas that desperately needed eating. It also happened that my birthday was a couple days ago.

And when I happen to have some good fruit sitting on the edge and something to celebrate, I bake. Yesterday I made my birthday cake. Banana with a bittersweet chocolate sour cream ganache. That was my birthday cake.

One of the best garage sale finds I’ve ever made was a copy of The Cake Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum, which I picked up for a whopping buck. Her Cordon Rose Banana Cake is amazingly good. I’ve never made a bad cake out of that book, but it’s the banana cake I keep returning to. It’s tasty, not too sweet, a perfect backdrop for the fabulous ganache that’s also featured in the book, and popular with my friends.

Baking is one of my all-time favorite pastimes. It’s something I have a gift for. From earliest childhood, baked goods have done my will with barely any effort from me. Pie crust – that most elusive of culinary accomplishments – turned out flaky and golden on my very first try at the tender age of seven. And so to this day, I usually bake myself a birthday treat. Usually it’s a cake, but pie has been featured more than once, too.

Life has not been the kindest to me and mine over the past year. Money’s always tight, disaster looms over some of the best people I know, good people have battled dread illnesses, and anxiety seems to reign supreme some weeks…but last night in my kitchen there was delicious banana cake, a good friend to share it with, and a hopeful feeling in the air. By the time I headed up to bed, I felt ready to face nearly anything.

Sometimes a good bit of baking can do that.

So what brings hope and relaxation in your world?

Francesca and Plumcake ask:

You’re getting ready to go out for a night on the town. You’ve glued on your fake eyelashes, strapped on your party hair and have plunged your piggies into shoes so cute that baby ponies vomit all over themselves out of sheer envy. What music do you play to make you feel as fierce as you look?

Plumcake says: It takes five songs to drive from Château Gâteau to my favorite clubs, during which I listen to a double shot each of The Cramps “Thee Most Exalted Potentate of Love” and “Hot Pool of Woman Need” and The Flametrick Subs –”The Way I Walk” and “What Makes a Good Girl Go Bad?” followed by Link Wray’s “Rumble” a song that was so scandalous when it was first released it was banned for being too provocative, even though it doesn’t have any words!

As someone who spends what can only be described as a pornographic amount of money on shoes (and we’re talking the hardcore scary German import-only stuff here, no soft-focus Oh Hi Mister Plumber Can You Check My Pipes nonsense) it may surprise you that for the most part I cannot get behind a super-expensive bag.

If it’s not a vintage clutch or my beloved hollowed-out armadillo (not joking, her name is Beulahbelle) as long as the thing’s well made, stylish and constructed by people who are old enough to buy lottery tickets, I’m all over it.

Currently I’m loving this silk bag from World of Good. It’s a great shape, the red and black is fun and Beetlejuicy while the grey couldn’t be more on trend.

Best part? These ridiculously inexpensive bags are completely fair trade.

According to the website, they’re “made by disabled artisan groups in Cambodia. NCDP helps artisans with disabilities earn a sustainable living, receive social services, self-help skills and training.”

While this doesn’t mean I have folded my campaign to systematically kick all hippies in the head with my pointy pointy shoes, I’ll give the granola grazers kudos on this one.

I just hope it doesn’t smell like patchouli.

From the first time I saw him on Project Runway, I have been madly in love with Tim Gunn. He’s probably the single person from the world of fashion I most want to gossip with over home-baked scones (I’ll make the scones, Tim! Call me! Or would you prefer pie? I rock at pie). So when I heard he was getting his own show, I was excited. Then I heard it was a makeover show and I cringed.

I hate makeover shows. Most of them seem to involve people being hijacked by their nearest and dearest, and then bullied by complete strangers. More often than not, the goal seems to be to make the victim cry and then brainwash her into wearing what the hosts like rather than actually teaching her anything about herself or her clothing choices. It concerned me – in the Tim Gunn version of the lexicon – that he would associate himself with that sort of entertainment.

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