And That’s what you missed….

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what you missed collage

 

Hi again! I’m still here, I swear it!

Honestly, I’m just trying to figure out a way to blog that will still be really awesome and interesting for you guys, and not take a huge amount of time for me, because let’s be real for a minute- I am plenty busy already. But with the end of the school year fast approaching, maybe I will have a bit more time to blog (Yay!).

So, it would help me a lot if you could comment below and let me know what you already like about Big on Modesty, and how I can make it better.

Thanks for sticking with me, guys!

~Ash

Hey guys

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Yeah, I’m still around, still trying to be fashionable. I’ve just found it hard to find the time to sit down and make a proper post (which this is not going to be).

If You want to keep updated on Big On Modesty, and don’t want to wait til I can make a proper post, considering liking my Facebook page Big on Modesty

I update there much MUCH more regularly. Thanks for your patience, guys. Life is a crazy thing, sometimes.

Love your body, no matter what the body

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blue scarf virginia

Shirt: Don’t recall
Jeans: Old Navy
Shoes: Converse (From goodwill, score!)
Sweater: JCPenney
Scarf: JCPenney
Hairbow: Target

Wonderful mirror picture taken on our roadtrip to Virginia for Thanksgiving this year. I’d like to say that I was so cute and fashionable every day I was there visiting my family, but…Mostly, I sat around in my pajamas, eating my grandma’s wonderful cooking, and relaxing. Ah well. Vacations will do that to ya, eh?

dec 8th black and red

Shirt: Walmart
Leggings: Target

Laundry piles are free of charge to anyone who wants it, c’mon over.

I’ve dyed my hair red since I last posted, I’d forgotten about that.

I was a little hesitant to post this picture because I’m wearing a form fitting top AND bottom, and mostly that seems to be a no-no for us big girls. But you know, it doesn’t have to be. We shouldn’t be ashamed of our bodies just because they are not a certain shape/size or because they don’t fit into someone else’s standard of beauty.

december 8th 2012

Shirt: Walmart
Skirt: DEB
Leggings: Target
Shoes: Walmart

Sometimes our imperfections make us more beautiful.

In which I have opinions….

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Shirt: Goodwill (aw yeah)
Jeans: Lane Bryant
Shoes: Converse via Journeys
(The adorable pink rainboots you see are from Target and have Hello Kitty on them, in case you have a mini-fashionista in your life!)

Shirt: Hot Topic (Any other PowerPuff Girl lovers??)
Jeans: Old Navy
Socks: don’t recall
Shoes: Converse via Journeys

Shirt: Goodwill
Suspenders: Hot Topic ($12, not bad!)
Jeans: Lane Bryant
Shoes: Converse via Journeys (I swear I do other shoes sometimes!)

So…here’s where I write things. I have been hesitant to post here. Why? Mainly because I’ve felt that my outfits weren’t up to snuff. That I was dressed too immature, or silly or not refined, or that it wasn’t fashionable enough, or or or or or (insert a million excuses). Then yesterday I got to thinking. Why did I start this blog? Wasn’t the point of this whole thing to show my own personal fashion and style? (Well, and also that being plus sized shouldn’t hold you back from feeling fabulous and fashionable.)

So, I’ve decided. Yeah, I’m going to post my outfits. Yeah, some of them are silly, and immature, and not refined, and whatever else. Some of them are ugly, and even really really horrible (Hey, I learn through experimenting!).

Here’s the thing though: I dress in the way that makes me feel happiest that day. And that can be completely different from day to day. And that’s allowed. And you know what? Screw all this being scared of what other people think. Screw it. And I invite you to do the same. Dress in whatever makes you happy. Because really? I think *that* is what fashion is about.

In Honor of Mark Gatiss’ Birthday….

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Beatles Shirt: Walmart
Pants: Lane  Bryant
Converse: Journeys
Umbrella: TJ Maxx (fancy, I know!)

reference picture (Mark Gatiss as Mycroft Holmes in BBC Sherlock)

 

Besides acting, Mark Gatiss is also one of the writers of Sherlock (and Doctor Who!). He’s an all around awesome guy. Maybe I talk about BBC Sherlock a little (a lot?) too much. But here’s where I tell you one of the reasons why.

Each of the characters in the show is an outcast in some way. And yet, they are brought together by this crazy, eccentric, madman/genius (Sherlock). They have to learn to tolerate each other, and him, and to an extent, he them. This really has me thinking. In today’s society, there is such a wide variety of personality, and with that quirks, that we all have that make us, I dunno, weird maybe. And instead of hiding it – in the show – Sherlock is open, honest, and unapologetic about his “quirks”. I admire this so much. And yes, there are people in the show who don’t like him, and you can see that it does hurt him somehwere deep down. I think for the most part Sherlock is accepting of who he is, that by and large he’s different.

He tells John Watson of his faults upon their first meeting.  ”I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for hours on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.” (BBC Sherlock, A Study In Pink).  What if we were all so upfront?

I would say: I’m bipolar, socially awkward, a people pleaser, and I’m not sure how to be a friend.

What about you? What would you say? (No Judgement Zone, promise)

But you are not here….

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Today (Oct 14th) would have been my Dad’s 61st birthday. He died in 2006. I don’t usually write about super personal stuff, but I felt that this needed to be out there. Alot of people felt that my father was not a good man, and maybe so. But to me, he was sweet. I’ve heard it said that everyone has a soft side, and maybe I was his.

From the stories people have told me about him, he was a very rude, inconsiderate, hurtful person. But I never knew that man. The man I knew was a tender hearted, guitar player, who’d had a hard life, and wanted to be a good father, even if he didn’t know how to be. And he wasn’t always. But I knew he was trying.

He had a stroke when I was 12, and had to live in an assisted living home after that. Sometimes when I visited, he thought I was my mother. It was hard on me. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t visit him as much after that. He was a very, very private person. I don’t really know alot about him. He loved playing guitar and singing, especially Johnny Cash songs. He thought the Beach Boys were better than the Beatles (no way, Dad!). He was an alcoholic, but started going to AA when I was a baby. That’s pretty much it.

By the time that my dad died, his other family wasn’t speaking to him, he didn’t really have any friends, and though he did have another child besides me, they didn’t keep in touch with him. He died alone, and without fanfare. He is buried in a run down cemetery, with a nameless grave marker.

My greatest fear is that he will be forgotten, that he never mattered. And so, maybe by putting this all out there, I can keep his memory alive a bit longer.

 

Me and my daddy’s guitar pick.