I actually hate the abundance of cute little words to describe overweightness: plump, rounded, curvy, roly-poly, rubenesque, generous, BBW, padded, comfortable, chunky…adipose-enhanced? I despise them all. Having too many words for something is always a good clue that it’s a socially uncomfortable reality we don’t want to deal with.

I do not have the problem RG has with these words. I actually like and use them liberally. However, they are still problematic. Culturally words like ‘plump’ and ‘curvy’ are used to avoid the word ‘fat’ but in reality this just lends more negative power to it. The thing is, ‘fat’ is just a word, and one of the many things I adore about RG’s article is how many time she says ‘fat’. She doesn’t use it derogatorily, or in a complimentary way, she simply states it as truth. The word ‘fat’ is a descriptor and we need to stop endowing it with negative connotations. Let’s just call a spade a spade. I am fat.

And it is not just the thin police who give ‘fat’ a bad name. It is a word I have used many times to describe myself, and many times it has been answered with a chorus of “You’re not fat! You’re beautiful!” as though the two are mutually exclusive. They absolutely are not. ‘Fat’ is just a descriptor; it is not a value judgement. Or, at least, it shouldn’t be. Dawn French, Beth Ditto, Nikki Blonksy, all of these women are fat. All of these women are also gorgeous.

Having said that, I also want to say a word for people who won’t date fat girls – and I’m purposefully addressing overweight females because I believe the issue for males is a little different. There are, to my mind, two kinds of people who will reject you for your weight. The first are those who feel it would harm their social status to be seen dating an overweight person. This is high-school type prejudice and anyone who feels that insecure about their standing is, honestly, not someone you want to be around. So don’t sweat it. I actually mentioned being honest about your weight in my piece about filling out your OkCupid profile, and this is why. Consider these your lucky escapes. The second group are people who are simply not attracted to overweight girls. This is perfectly acceptable. Being honest about who you are attracted to is a good thing. I turn OkCupid messages down on a daily basis because they are from people who are too young for me. The simple truth is that I am not attracted to people who are under thirty, and that is just a fact. So if I approach someone and they kindly tell me they are simply not attracted to fat girls, I’ll take that as written and move along.

But I digress.

As for those other words – ‘plump, rounded, curvy, roly-poly, rubenesque, generous, BBW, padded, comfortable, chunky…’ – to my mind they are all fine. In fact, with the exception of BBW (which I think should probably be reserved for porn tags, as it is otherwise largely* unimaginative), I love a lot of these words. They are creative adjectives, and for me they all describe a different kind of fat. Plump is a warm, homely woman with rosy cheeks. Rubenesque has a sense of dim lighting and eroticism. Rounded is geometric. I would never discourage anyone from using these words creatively. But we seriously need to stop using them to avoid the word ‘fat’, because the more we do, the more we give power to all the negative, fat-shaming that is so pervasive in Western culture.

As for the word ‘obese’? It is medical and scientific, and belongs exclusively between you and your doctor.

*pun intended

The post Terms of Fatness appeared first on (It Girl. Rag Doll).

Along with the rebirth of e[lust] comes a new feature: Sex Bytes, a site which offers bloggers a way to share their own work and the work of others more immediately, between the main e[lust] issues.

To give you some idea of how it will work, the Sex Bytes description reads:

Sex Bytes delivers the most interesting and talked about sex stories and posts on the Internet . The Internet is full of great stories, and we help you find, read, and share the very best ones. It’s simple, just click on the “What have you found” button on the right side of the page. Register for an account (if you haven’t already) and share the link. Remember to pick a category, give it some tags and share it on your social network. Don’t forget to vote for the stories that you enjoy!

A few weeks ago Molly asked me to be the editor of Sex Bytes, and I accepted. I will work hard to make this a productive and useful tool, and hopefully it will flourish into a site that everyone can use to share the best stories and posts on the internet.

Needless to say, I am very pleased to be working with Molly and Michael as part of the e[lust] team.

The post Sex Bytes: A New Day, a New Title appeared first on (It Girl. Rag Doll).

What is particularly striking about the time at which Gli Asolani was published is that Venice in 1505 was truly at the heart of the Renaissance, and the Renaissance was really the point at which our modern world and our modern way of thinking began. Before that, in the Middle Ages, we still had feudalism and chivalry: but with this rebirth came a kind of enlightenment and a desire for invention. So it is understandable that anything that was born or heralded during the Renaissance period was likely to have a long-lasting impact on the world that came after it.

With all of this in mind, it doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch to suggest that perhaps Gli Asolani may in some small way be responsibile for the way sex is blushed and smirked over in the modern world. It at least bears thinking about; and maybe some further investigation might be worthwhile.

This article is meandering a little as the topic of rebirth does not offer particular evidence to any argument I might want to make. However, it not only seems extremely poignant at this time of year, but also lends itself beautifully to a handful of things I’ve been meaning to mention. Furthermore, I am between two pieces of coursework this week so, for myself, a chance to let the reins loosen on form and structure is a welcome breath of fresh air. But don’t be alarmed! I will still tie this article up at the end by referring you back to Bembo. Never you fear.

Over the past two weeks I’ve read many articles about turning over new leaves and making resolutions; about reflecting on what has gone before and planning what is yet to come. Funnily enough I’ve probably read more articles pointing out that the author is “not the kind of person who makes resolutions”. But one thing seems clear: for the vast majority of us, whether we like it or not, the sense of rebirth, as 2013 begins, is in the air, and we are aware of it. As for myself, I actually love making resolutions, but have found that making them purely because it’s the beginning of the year is a surefire way to meet with failure. So I make resolutions as and when they feel necessary. For example, in May 2012 I decided to stop lying and began to make a concerted effort to always be open and honest, even if that meant being honest about the fact that I have some secrets I am not willing to tell. All in all, I succeeded, and will continue to endeavour to be honest because, on the most basic level, it makes life simpler.

To anyone who has known me for a year or more – me, Harper, that is; or Lady Grinning Soul, as I was formerly known, – it will come as no surprise that I thrive on the concept of rebirth. The very fact that I changed my name, and my website is proof enough. Making such a huge transition comes at a cost, but one I was willing to pay for the excitement of renewal. Add to that the fact that I more recently deleted all my short erotic fiction from this website and heavily edited the non-fiction content, and I’m sure you can see a pattern emerging. There is something extremely addictive about wiping the slate clean and starting again. Speaking of which, I will give a moment’s nod to the fact that I am now ‘out’ as a sex writer – my real name is Stella – and I’m hoping the effects of outing myself will provide some interesting topics later in the year. As yet I am still waiting for the fallout or, in fact, any reaction whatsoever from my family and school friends. Watch this space.

(Another point worth making, and worth researching: with the new year and (if you make them) new resolutions, come new projects. A handful of people have begun or renewed 365 projects – myself included – and others have taken on the more dramatic Day Zero challenge, so the new year also offers the opportunity for new inspiration and new projects to follow.)

But back to my starting point. The Renaissance was actually about the rebirth of antiquity; it was to do with retelling and recreating the stories of Ancient Gods, and great heroes. The idea that the common man is worth artistic attention is, in fact, a fairly recent one which, despite having some exposure in theatre beforehand, wasn’t really considered worthwhile until the birth of the novel in the eighteenth century. However, I think it would be fair to say that, despite its long-standing prevalance, our reverence of antiqutiy has not, actually, lasted until today. It has fallen a little short because of world-changing events like the second world war. Furthermore, if we look at rebirth on a smaller scale, and I’m talking, again, about those new year’s resolutions, they don’t seem to last either.

So – and here’s where I wrap it all up, ever so neatly and eloquently – perhaps Bembo isn’t really to blame for our outdated attitudes to sex, after all.

The post Prosa Sparse: On Rebirth appeared first on (It Girl. Rag Doll).

So what is it about being too mentally conscious that I dislike?

I have a theory, which I have presented it to a handful of people, all of whom – thus far – have agreed: there is something about being human that causes a longing to escape the individual, to be outside the confines of one single body. I suppose you could link this back to loneliness, which is all too common an issue: there can be something deeply lonely about existing in a single, detached skin – which of course, almost everyone does. But whatever the reason for this strong, singular, sense of self, sex seems like the perfect answer. Sex is as close as a person can get to merging with another. It connects bodies – and in many cases feelings too – and allows an individual to immerse himself in shared sensations. I have come across those who would describe sex as ‘two becoming one’. However, I don’t quite buy this idealism.

First of all, unless the two people having sex know each other extremely well, there is bound to be some awkwardness, and that kind of discomfort is felt in the skin: in writing we often come across phrases like “skin crawling” or descriptions of the hairs on the back of the neck, things that are very much to do with personal exteriors. Therefore, unless one or both of the people involved are intoxicated – in which case I would argue that they aren’t really present – it can’t be possible to lose oneself in a stranger.

Despite my skepticism when it comes to merging with someone else, I do believe it is possible to get extremely close. There are times when the soul of a partner seems close enough to touch, when that connection is tangible. But being that close can also have a “so near and yet so far” sense to it. For a person to be able to feel how invested he is in his partner, whilst simultaneously knowing that he can’t ever really touch or become that feeling can make him feel even lonelier; and even if he can invest in that moment and believe it heart and soul, at some point it has to end, and the separation of bodies, the severing of that connection can be devastating.

But let’s consider for a moment: sex is not always such a terrible, lonely experience. For one thing, this deindividualisation cannot possibly be the aim of every person who has ever had sex. Perhaps, for some, it is about asserting their individualism, about touching that edge, safe in the knowledge that on the other side they will still be their particular, whole self. For others, perhaps the connection they feel in that moment lasts: perhaps it spills over into daily life through the security and love they share with their partner. And, surely, there must also be those who find the loneliness and the desperation arousing. Furthermore, I believe there is a good argument to be made for the prevalence of other desires: pain, for example, can have the effect of taking a person outside of their body – or ‘spacing out’ – but the sense of escaping from a singular skin, or at least becoming less conscious of it, does not necessarily mean the individual feels closer to another person; he may simply feel – and want to feel – a lessened sense of self. Then, of course, there are power dynamics where the division between the two may be key to their entire relationship.

But yes – I believe that the desire to lose oneself completely in another human being during sex, is, ultimately, unattainable, and there is a sense of tragedy in the longing and the impossibility.

However, if the desire to reach that moment of deindividualisation actually stems from a state of human loneliness, then it is not, in fact, a sexual issue, but simply something which people may have unwisely chosen to resolve with sex. Therefore it would be remiss of us to not consider answers outside of sex.

As many of you may know, I am a huge fan of opera, and when I am at an opera house, sitting comfortably in my seat as the lights go down and the curtain rises, one of my favourite places to look is into the orchestra pit. There is something so magical, and so beautiful about seeing twenty, thirty, forty musicians all working together, with one goal; one task. Instruments call and answer one another, and ten bows move in perfect harmony. When an orchestra is working well, there is also a sense of sacrifice: by being part of it, these musicians have given up their individual fame in order to offer something to the greater purpose, to an opera or a ballet or a concerto, whatever it may be. It would certainly be rare, but it may be possible that these are the instances which offer human beings the chance to become one with others.

However, I do not wish to put this forward based on that ‘sense of sacrifice’. I do not mean to say that human beings can only be enlightened by giving to the greater good. The impossibility of losing oneself in another during sex does not exist because sex is sinful! And orchestras are not the perfect answer to human loneliness because they are grand, and beautiful, and a symbol of high art. No. There is something selfish about sex, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. When people don’t take some responsibility for their own pleasure, it often leads to very joyless sex lives. Therefore it could be argued that being conscious of personal pleasure – or, in fact, any personal sensation – is actually very wise, and I’m not sure how sex would work if at least one partner wasn’t interested in him- or herself. However, of course, focusing on the self stands as a barrier to losing the self. If a person is interested in his own pleasure, then he cannot forget his own individual experience and existence. But when a group of people are, together, creating something, the focus is not on the individual: it is on the creation. And that could easily be conducive to defeating that sense of individualism.

Of course, it’s just a theory – and a rather convoluted one at that – but I still think it’s something worth considering. And one thing seems certain, to me: with loneliness so rife, there must be, in some part of human existence, a desire to escape the individual.

The post Escaping the Individual appeared first on (It Girl. Rag Doll).