Monday, September 29, 2014

A little fashion, a little reading, and a little teaching.

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A little fashion…

I’m not on Twitter as much as I used to be, so sometimes I’m not as clued into the plus size fashion happenings as I used to be, but thankfully I follow lots of “in the know” bloggers who share great content, especially The Curvy Fashionista’s Facebook page. I saw on her page a link to a blogger/brand collaboration between P.S. It’s Fashion and Fame and Partners. The collection spans sizes 16-26 and offers special occasion wear. I’m really loving some of the designs, and I think the price point is on par with quality special occasion wear. My favorite is the Maya dress, but you can check out the full collection here.

raaa

Maya Dress


Another interesting thing I saw this week was DearKates.com‘s feature of women in the tech field in their Ada collection lookbook. One of the women featured is Sarah Conley of Styleitonline.com (see her post here), and I absolutely loved seeing someone near my size/shape featured in such an intimate setting. I’ve admired Sarah as a blogger for awhile, so it is also just really cool when you see someone you kinda know in these things. Apparently some people feel that the lookbook sexualizes women in the tech field, and I guess that means that sexual women in that field can’t also be seen as great workers (?!), but I found the lookbook fresh and exciting. As I said to Sarah, my read of it was that women can be powerful, confident, smart, intimate, and vulnerable. We can be all of those together, at the same time, and one doesn’t take away from the other.

sarah-conley-dear-kate

By the way, I own their Rosa brief in a 3x, and it is a great product (fits up to a 26/28).


A little reading…

I’ve also been reading a lot of things to potentially use in my class, especially writing that comes out of personally-motivated inquiry. “The Strange and Curious Tale of the Last True Hermit” was a really interesting read. My class looks at identity and how we use language to form the self, manage the self, etc. We also consider who we are recognized as and probe at how that recognition forms identity. So much of my life is connecting to others that I have a hard time thinking about going 2+ days alone, let alone decades alone. It made me think about my class subject in a new way.

“I did examine myself,” he said. “Solitude did increase my perception. But here’s the tricky thingâ€"when I applied my increased perception to myself, I lost my identity. With no audience, no one to perform for, I was just there. There was no need to define myself; I became irrelevant. The moon was the minute hand, the seasons the hour hand. I didn’t even have a name. I never felt lonely. To put it romantically: I was completely free.”


A little teaching…

This week my classes are also thinking about the stories we associate with ourselves (those we tell or are told) and how places are connected to identity. We read this piece about how places are connected to our sense of self. It reminded me of the poem “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon. It’s a poem that is often imitated, and I had a chance to go back and look over the version I wrote in 2008. It’s fun to think about how my sense of place has changed over the years. How now at 26 I associate “Where I’m From” with other things (now probably more things that have happened in my adult years rather than only my childhood).

Here’s the version I wrote in 2008:

I am from rubber,

From weather-stripping and classic cars,

I am from the wooden dock,

(splintery, worn

it creaked beneath my feet.)

I am from the daffodils,

the paper tree

whose bark I peeled off

to become

secret notes for my sister.

I’m from skip-bo and the Droulliard nose,

from Evelyn and Giuseppa.

I’m from the laugh-too-louds,

and the speak-up-to-be-heard,

from the good old days and quit picking on your brother.

I’m from Mass on Christmas,

then never again

waiting for answers, but afraid to search.

I’m from Lincolnton and the Grammaticos,

lasagna and no-bake cookies.

From the years of my mother being

a caretaker

my grandma’s stroke that started it all.

In the basement is my plastic box

birthday cards, letters

old school yearbooks,

news articles of my deceased dear friend.

Each piece makes up my limbs-

A medley of people who’ve changed me-

Supporting me as I walk on.

What have you been reading and thinking about this week?


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