So I have totally slacked off on this blog, and was sat here pondering what to write about. Then it hit me – I can’t believe I haven’t told you the Princess story yet!

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So, one night I was baby sitting my nieces. The then 5 year old had been promised a princes and princesses party for her birthday; of course despite this being months away it was all she wanted to talk about. She was telling me that she was going to have guests come dressed up as Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella and all this. I jokingly asked her who I should dress up as.

She paused, thinking carefully.

Then she said, in a regretful tone: “I don’t know which princesses are fat.”

Everyone I have told this story to gets an expression on their faces which is about 90% horror and 10% repressing the urge to laugh. Nobody needs to repress the urge to laugh; I didn’t take offence to it at all because a) she was 5 years old and b) it was not an inaccurate description of me. Kid wasn’t trying to be rude or malicious, just telling the ego-denting truth as only kids can! It’s going to be one of those stories I’m constantly retelling to embarrass her when she grows up. Even though it’s a tad harsh to have your little niece remind you of those extra pounds you’re packing I got a kick out of it.

Still, it did occur to me what a pointed bit of truth she inadvertently hit upon. Not that I’m fat (lol), but that plus-sized princesses? Fuggedabouit. Ugly stepsisters maybe. That size ideal starts young. She’s 5 years old and already part of how she perceives and views what I can or cannot do with my image and dress like is my size. This is in no way her fault; these are the notions that get presented to us from a very early age and we quickly and subconsciously internalise them. She is completely innocent to this process and especially how much worse it’ll get when she’s older, but there it is. I cannot be a princess ’cause I’m fat (little does she know that the wonders of eBay will produce slutty Snow White costumes in all sizes). One of these days it’ll stop being princesses and start being pop stars but the end result will still be that size is far more defining in our views of each other than merited.

I however am much older and marginally wiser than my niece, so I know I’m a total princess – Penelope Garcia style. Anybody who’s seen my inability to survive for two minutes without my perfume or cope with mud can tell you what a princess I am. ;o)

 

Much love, Curvy Girl xx

How To Be a Princess (or not)

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