Guest Post - Keep banging your drum and eventually we’ll all get a dance


My name is Danielle and I am Emma’s BEST FRIEND FOREVER and number 1 fan.

‘Are you sure?’, 

I hear you ask,

‘She’s never once mentioned you in any of her blog posts or pictures?!’

Yes… yes I know, and yet I’m still here, adoring her from behind the scenes despite that fact I am largely ignored. It’s important to love those we are closest to yet not be blind to their flaws *nostril flare*. I’m not bitter or attention seeking. Really.

Emma and I have a cute story. It goes something like this…. We hated each other at school, both moved to Sheffield (albeit 6 years apart), she saw me on a bus, messaged me on Facebook and since then we’ve been stuck together like clams. The end.

The other cute thing about Emma and I is that physically we are very different. You will know she is a tall, flamed-haired, pale, Amazonian goddess. I am very short, dark-haired, olive-skinned. I also have massive tits but the hands of a four-year-old child. My Patronus would be Ronnie Corbett with breast implants. We look funny when we are together. A bit like Arya Stark and The Hound, Timone and Pumba, Sophie Dahl and Jamie Cullum,... you get the picture. One of the ways in which we are very similar is that we are fully-paid-up members of the feminist sisterhood, Prosecco-swigging socialists and independent ‘wimmin’. You know, the type the Daily Mail hates.

Emma’s success at Plus Size blogging has me bursting with pride. It’s so-fucking-fantastic that she and her peers are chipping away at the status quo with gathering momentum, providing an alternative with intelligent reasoning and fuckloads of style. I have had the pleasure of meeting several of Emma’s blogger friends, they have all been PROPER BIRDS and gorgeous. I hate them.

And yet I feel dissatisfied. See when one bastard child eventually gets their slice of the pie, the rest us want ours too. But do I deserve it? I’m not big enough to be fat shamed or brown enough to be systematically excluded. For the large part, my seat at Society’s table is reserved, albeit at the back of the room, and I sometimes get mistaken for the waitress. I can sit with ‘them’. On a good day. Still, I can’t open a magazine or watch a TV advert and see women that look like me. I can’t covet a dress on a website and really imagine what I’m going to look like wearing it until it’s on (clue: usually too tight across the chest and 6 inches too long). Society, media, popular culture, seem to only exist in extremes much of the time. We can only communicate at a quiet or shockingly loud level, the rest is just white noise. The Plus Size movement, I feel, is testament to this. You bang your drum to such a rhythm it’s getting difficult to ignore; the fashion industry is tapping along to your tune, media outlets are beginning to sway their hips and retailers are dragging you to your feet.

But what does this mean to lil’ old big-tits me? Well when the first balloon has popped with a bang the rest don’t seem as intimidating. Women need better representation whatever we bring to the table and somewhere in the distance I can hear your vibrations. People are listening. So, Emma et al, you’ve put a crack in the glass ceiling of societal norms for ALL women and for that I salute you. Keep banging your drum and eventually we’ll all get a dance. 

Ronnie Corbett, eat you heart out.

Danielle (Emma’s BFF IDST)