1. This is what I look like when posing awkwardly in front of my webcam on a speech day.


  2. Ten questions, quick and easy. The first half is about body hair, the second is about fatness/weight/body image. Please reblog, share on Facebook, whatever. The more answers I have, the better the article I do for the zine will be. Please let me know if you have any problems with anything. I did my best to make it all-inclusive.


  3. Confusing thoughts on weight loss.

    Lately, I’ve been losing a lot of weight. (By a lot, I mean maybe ten pounds in the last month or two, which is a ton for me.) Ironically, this started happening long after I was making any effort to lose even a pound or two and totally stopped giving a shit about my weight. (I do weigh myself now and then, but mostly in an attempt to figure out how my hormones affect me at various times of the month.) So, I’ve gone from about 215 pounds to about 200 in the last few months, and I feel more confused than ever.

    In the last week or so especially, I’ve been told over and over again how great I look and how much weight I’ve lost. I know everyone’s trying to be genuinely nice, but doesn’t that kind of imply that I looked less great when I was a little heavier? I mean, I’m still wearing the same sizes and everything, so the change is far from drastic. I don’t even notice it, so it’s weird to me that other people do. I have noticed that there’s more definition in my waist (and to be totally honest, I always wanted more of an hourglass shape, so I’m kind of stoked about that), but beyond that, I think I look almost exactly the same. I don’t even know that I want to lose weight anymore. I’ll never be thin, but I’m beginning to realize that while I’ll always be fat, I’ll always get comments like “well, you’re not that¬†fat”, which, while well-intentioned, will always make me feel even shittier.

    The more I read about fat-positivity and everything, the more I realize that I am, indeed, fat, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve always been healthy and I have no aversion to food (although I definitely don’t eat enough calories to really sustain human life these days, thanks mostly to my financial situation), so I have no reason to diet. I’m happy, for the most part. What upsets me, though, is that people can’t be happy for me to be fat like they can when I lose weight. I understand the social implications of fatness and why people think the way they do, but I certainly don’t like it. And in terms of fatness, I’m definitely on the thinner side, so I have much more visibility than a lot of other women (even those who weigh about the same as me but have less “acceptable” shapes). Although I’m still sorting my own feelings towards my weight and the way others see it, I hope that through my visibility, I can change a few minds and make it easier for other fatties to feel comfortable in their own bodies, no matter what others say.


  4. Fat-positivity in the form of a surname

    When my family came from Calabria, Italy to Ellis Island, someone changed the family name. My last name is Retton (which is really nationally-ambiguous), but the original family name is Rotundo. As you might be aware, the word “rotund” means plump, round, circular, fat, et cetera. It’s funny that my family should have this name, because my dad’s side (what little we know of them, because his father died rather young and had another family somewhere back East, and he had four brothers, I think, all of whom lived in different places) is all quite short and fat, as far as I know. I look just like my dad, who looks just like his dad. In fact, we all share the same basic names. (I’m Samantha Briana, my dad is Sammy Brian, and his dad was Sam.)

    In my search for total self-confidence and love for my fat (but randomly-slimming) body, I’ve decided to start using the original name a bit more. It fits me so well, and it gives me a greater connection to my father’s side of the family (we’re all slowly connecting on Facebook) and the Italian-American community. (I know that’s pretty irrelevant because white is white is white, no matter what, but as a third-generation American, I feel like I should have stronger ties to my heritage than I do.)

    So that’s my life story. I just kind of feel like this is total validation that I was born to be fat and there’s no reason I should ever have to feel pressured to change that. Fat is in my blood.


  5. I was lurking a friend’s facebook and found this picture we took at my friend Jessica’s wedding on Halloween. I felt like I had to post it because my body looks way more awesome than usual. I think I need wet-look leggings every day.


  6. My hair has changed my life.

    Hairspray and pomade are my best friends. My eyebrows have to be in tip-top shape every day. I feel much more fabulous.

    And the lads and ladies dig it.


  7. Idea for an article (read: jumbled rant) for otherXcore #4:

    The awkwardness of being a gender-confused style-conscious lady with designer style on a broke punk budget and in a fairly large body. This is basically the story of my life.


  8. In which I take way too many pictures and make some stupid faces.

    I’ve been thinking a lot about dandyism lately, which is no surprise, given that my last paper of the semester had a lot to do with it. I consider Morrissey a great example of a dandy because he is incredibly private, which is an important aspect of dandyism. A dandy tends to treat their public persona as a sort of work of art, something for others to admire but never be able to unravel. I love the idea of dandyism, and while I’m totally an open book, I like to consider myself a bit of a part-time dandy, at least style-wise.

    Now if only I could stop complaining about every little problem on the internet, I could be wonderfully mysterious and drive people crazy. My sexuality and “love life” have always been something I’ve mostly kept to myself, partly because I don’t care to figure myself out to the point that I really have to claim anything, because I think sexuality is often fluid, and partly because I’d just rather leave people guessing. I’m quite dull, so I might as well leave them something to wonder about. (Also, there’s really nothing to tell.)