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Inspire. Motivate. Laugh. Love….. Your Guilty Pleasure. ♥

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The Secret To Happy Boobs




I have been in a love-hate relationship with my breasts since they were naught but buds.

At 12, all my friends had them, so I prayed real hard and BOOM, little buds appeared.

These buds grew and grew and GREW and GREW until overnight, I had sprouted a fully-grown woman’s chest, so at 14 I was praying for “a little bit less please!”.

By 24 I had finally grown into them, but I was still, by normal standards, top-heavy and I had spent over a decade stuffing and squeezing my tatas into all manner of pretty spandex and lace infused prisons, trying to control an obviously-uncontrollable force of nature.

I have suffered through the pains of trying to wear small strappy tops and spilling out of them from all sides. I wore a JT-One top ONCE, and learnt my lesson pretty quickly. I struggled for years, trying to find a strapless bra that could handle “all this”, and after spending my friends wedding in the ultimate strapless, ended up with red welts lining my back and sides. I eventually came to the comfortable conclusion that some things are just not meant for me. I have an ample D-cup bosom that will always require a bra at ALL times and I will always be adjusting things in here it seems. They will NEVER look like the ones in the Triumph and Jockey adverts. Jogging will always be an exercise in Baywatch-esque spectacles for the men in passing cars. Strapless dresses with pretty bustiers are not in my future and backless tops are a no-no (unless if I will be wearing a jacket ofcourse ;-)). The bigger they get, the less I (or any of the store clerks) understand about how to find a decent bra. When I take off my bra, my breasts will fall a centimetre or two (tee hee hee) and they will always migrate towards the warmth of my armpits when I lie down. They are not the stuff of porn movies, they are real and soft and natural. That is how the good Lord meant them to be ladies and you never need feel ashamed or apologise for this.

So after all my experiences, it makes me sad to know that there are girls out there living with very unrealistic expectations, with bee-sting breasts wishing they had more to fill out their tops, and young ladies with

The dream

The dream

bazoonkas, trying to strap them down to appear flatter-chested because the boys in their 9th Grade classes are making lewd comments. At younger ages, we have no idea how to be comfortable with our bodies, and so, with our breasts. Big or small, they are usually a minor pain at some point or another and unfortunately, there is not enough conversation out there to teach us how to be comfortable with ourselves.

This morning I came across a lady who claims to have found the trick in measuring yourself for your proper size and I will be trying it soon. She also posted this helpful video:

So for the trick:

1: Take measuring tape and measure yourself around your ribcage, where your bra band would normally sit and exhaleWrite down that number.

2. Bend over at a 90 degree angle, with your boobs dangling in front of you. Wrap the measuring tape loosely around your back and dangling bust (you might need help for this one), and write that number down.

3. Now take those two numbers and subtract them, (i.e. 49-38 = 11). Now take that number and using the chart below, find your cup size.

The first measurement you got, your band size, plus your cup size from the chart is what you should be looking for in the chart.



Please let me know if any of you try it and how it works out 😉


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Quote Me


Asking me if I have a favourite quote is like asking the Cookie Monster if he has a favourite flavour…pretty pointless.

Like songs, I have many favourite quotes, one for every situation and emotion probably but there are those that have followed me through life like a stubborn STD, always coming up when I least expect it and reminding me why I first fell in love with literature and the written word. I’m that girl at work who is drowning in all the Post-It notes stuck on and around her cubicle, with little encouraging and funny quotes scrawled on them. From the thousands of stories I’ve met in my life to the hundreds of movies I’ve seen I hear timeless lines every day. I won’t even mention the songs I listen to nor the poetry I watch.

I mean, who doesn’t still swoon every time they hear Julia Roberts saying, “I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her,” in Nottinghill?

Beauty Quote

The first quote that made it into this category for me had to be Jean Kerr’s witty gem about beauty.I loved it the first time I heard it and I have continued to love it since. Funny and still very true, it made me see things a little differently, and I think that’s what I love most about it and others like it. If a few words can make me laugh and still teach me something new, what’s not to love about them?

Another quote that makes it into this category for me has to be from William Shakespeare’s Macbeth. I’m not sure why but Shakespearethere was just something about this particular line that, when I read it, I fell in love with how Shakespeare structured words to create magic. Between this line and the rhymic couplet from Sonnet 116 – “If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved” – Shakespeare showed me just how timeless words can be, even when they have changed.

So although I will never have a favourite quote, it is only because I have such an appreciation for the written word. Everyday I am finding new quotes to love and cherish and I hope you will too.

* Unless it is mad passionate love, it is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love should not be one of them.

* Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you love. It will not lead you astray. – Rumi

* Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

“For June who loved this garden. From Joseph who always sat beside her.” - Notting Hill

“For June who loved this garden. From Joseph who always sat beside her.” – Notting Hill


Do you have a favourite quote that you could share with us?

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Kick It

So…the 11th item on my bucket list…

I don’t know about you but my bucket list has never been all that specific. The items on my list were never placed in any particular chronological order, but if I had to start rearranging them, I would definitely say the 11th item on my bucket list would be swimming with a whale.

When I was about 12 years old, I came across a picture very similar to this one, of a man underwater, his arm was reaching up, running his fingers along the underbelly of a giant whale swimming past, right above him. I was so enthralled with this experience that I immediately declared that one day, I would swim with a whale, and I would not have lived until I had done this. This was long before the time of bucket lists and the like, but even then I knew that this was a must-do experience before I kicked the bucket. Even now, so many years later, I still see pictures of whales or something like this one of Marco Queral and a humpback whale and I think what an incredible experience it must be to be in that completely different world with something so foreign and so much bigger than you, and still feel like you can reach out to it and connect with it.

I never became a marine biologist, despite my love for the watery critters, but my need to one day swim with a whale still burns bright. Every time I mention this dream, my friends and family look at me as if I have lost my mind, but this is one dream I am so sure of, if it should happen that I do not make it out of those waters, I will have died a happy and fulfilled woman. So if there are any generous philanthropists out there looking to make a young lady’s dreams come true, make it happen, I will forever be grateful.


Any of you got any interesting or amazing things on your bucket lists? Please comment below.

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Stroke of Midnight (Courtesy of 365 Days of Writing Prompts)

When the rest of the world was counting down to their new beginning and screaming sentiments to each other, I was on my phone, distracted by my lack of network reception and I didn’t notice until two minutes into the new year that it had already begun.

There had been no loud chorused countdown, no hugs and kisses shared with strangers and no fireworks, none of the New Years Eve staples. I wasn’t having the best of times, but then again, I can’t say I had the worst.

I had foregone my youthful need for noise, friends and chaos and instead chosen to spend New Years Eve with my aunt and her friends and although when my friends asked why I wouldn’t be celebrating with them, I couldn’t explain it, I knew it was something I had to do.

You see, my aunt lost her husband and companion of over 20 years, three years ago, and she has given me a whole new perspective on the dynamics of loss. I thought I had the concept covered, having lost my father at the age of 9 and multiple family members in the following years, I thought I knew loss pretty well, but she is a tricky little monster. No matter how many times you come face to face with her, she still manages to blindside you every time she comes around.

I have lived with my aunt (and previously my uncle) since the age of 10, so when he passed, I lost another father, but she lost a life partner. She lost the person she was supposed to grow old with, the person who took care of her when she was sick and the person she went through every New Years Eve with.

It took her falling sick to realise that she no longer had anyone to tend to every need, something my uncle had done without asking, and she had to learn to do it herself. She had to face the prospect of spending the holidays alone when the kids are off on adventures and of having no one to be her mirror and sounding board in life, a job my uncle had excelled at. Unfortunately for my aunt, she was never the kind of person who could maintain friendships, from a childhood as mostly a loner, she had a lot of acquaintances but her husband had been the only best friend she ever needed.

In the past three years I have watched my aunt experience everything like new, just by experiencing it alone and I’ve seen the fear and loneliness each has brought, from making new friends in her mid-fourties, to buying a smaller house, and even a little hesitant dating. I’ve heard her talk about how she doesn’t know what she will do when the youngest moves out of the house and how terrified she is of ending up old and alone and I understand better now that it is not just a line meant to poke fun and desperate old maids, but a realistic understanding of the impracticalities of spinsterhood. For me, the reality has been sobering.

So this past New Year’s Eve, I sat in a dead restaurant/lounge with my aunt and her friends awkwardly making conversation but also watching my aunt relax, laugh and have fun. I can only hope that her future will be filled with a lot more of those moments.

Subject courtesy of WordPress & The Daily Post: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, which should (hopefully) get me into the habit of writing every day.

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African Queen

Ondria Hardin in Numero magazine

Ondria Hardin in Numero magazine

I recently read about a bit of controversy with Numéro magazine because they featured the above picture in an editorial.

The picture features 16-year-old, blond-haired, blue-eyed model, Ondria Hardin, who was covered in bronzer for the shoot. The magazine was then criticised for their decision to use a white model instead of “a more ethnic” one. This went so far that the magazine had to issue a statement apologising, saying:

“The artistic statement of the photographer Sebastian Kim, author of this editorial, is in line with his previous photographic creations, which insist on the melting pot and the mix of cultures, the exact opposite of any skin color based discrimination.  Numéro has always supported the artistic freedom of the talented photographers who work with the magazine to illustrate its pages, and has not took part in the creation process of this editorial….Considering the turmoil caused by this publication, the Management of Numéro Magazine would like to apologize to anyone who may have been offended by this editorial.”

Needless to say, a debate sprung up faster than you could say “bingo!”. Reading through the comments underneath this story, it was interesting to see all the different view points.

  • Some African American readers were offended because they felt this was a representation of “blackface“. This, is a form of theatrical makeup popular in the 19th century, where performers created a stereotyped caricature of a black person. The usual stereotype being the “happy-go-lucky darkie on the plantation” or the “dandified coon”. (Can we really compare this to blackface?)
  • Another reader explained that people are offended because they chose to use a blonde, blue-eyed, American model in bronzer, to represent a continent that is predominantly black. (Should they then have used an African model?)
  • A (presumably white) reader asked the question, Why are black women mad when they make a white model look more African, but white women are not mad when African women are modelled with blonde weaves and bleached skins?
  • A few other African American readers felt that, whereas “blackface” was used to caricature and therefore make fun of Africans, this was not intended in the same way. One said that, seeing as the model looks gorgeous and African American women have been using make up to look “whiter” for years, this shows some level of equality and she’s happy to see other races trying to emulate the African look. “Let the white girl play in black makeup! We got more important shit to worry about!” (Is it really a compliment, or does taking it as a compliment show a lack of pride in how you, as an African woman, are portrayed in the media?)
  • Another reader felt that this was being blown way out of proportion, because (suprise, suprise), “there are white women born in Africa too!”

That last comment, my favourite one by far, got me thinking…

So maybe she’s not representing a black women. Maybe she’s representing a white, African woman. Maybe she’s representing the idea that, with all the white women tanning and black women bleaching their skins, very soon there will be no difference between us. Or…Maybe she’s representing the blending of cultures and influences that is inevitable in a continent that is full of so many different people. Is it not all in how we choose to see it?

Yes, the white people came to Africa from Europe and the Americas, but how many centuries and how many generations must pass, before their children’s children’s children (who are born of the soil and the unique blended culture), are considered Africans? And if they are considered Africans, why can they not be African queens? Are white people born in Africa going to be considered migrants until the end of time? (the same way a lot of different cultures are still considered foreigners in America today). And if that is the case, how does this viewpoint bode well for Africa’s children and their future in any way??

Africa’s story, is so full of blood and anger and hatred and division…so can’t we, just this once, choose to see the glass as half full?

My question for today is, why can’t little black girls AND little white girls born of this continent, dream of being African Queens?


16 Days…









There seem to be a lot of numbers floating around on my blog nowadays, but no worries, this is not about the apocalyptic destruction of your ass (…am I allowed to say ass on the interweb??).

This is just to highlight, for those who not yet aware (despite the bombardment on our television screens), that we are currently going through 16 Days of Activism Against Women & Child Abuse. This is the 16 days where we put, at the forefront of our minds, those who subjected to gender or other forms of abuse on the regular, particularly, women and children.ABUSE2

It really saddens me that in 2012, we can still be subject to such horrific levels of women and children being abused.

For example, did you know that an estimated 1 in every 3 women in the world will be beaten, raped or otherwise abused in her lifetime, and usually by  a family member?

Did you know that violence kills and disables as many women between the ages of 15 and 44 as CANCER??

Did you know that 1 in every 4 South African women is a survivor of domestic violence?

Did you know that 1 in 16 women is regularly assaulted by her partner?

Or that 1 in 4 women is forced to flee a life-threatening situation in her home at some point in her life.


Coordinated by the Center for Women’s Global Leadership (CWGL), the 16 Days Campaign was created to serve as a global advocacy campaign to increase awareness about gender-based violence and a call on governments and the general public to begin preventing such violence. The point is to treat domestic violence as a serious crime and to protect and support those women who do have the courage to report it, as well as training law enforcement to address armed partners and family sensitively, effectively and lawfully.

Acts of violence experienced by these women include sexual harassment, rape, murder (witch burnings, rape-murders, sexual serial killings, intimate femicide which is by a husband or boyfriend), forced prostitution or trafficking and female genital mutilation/circumcision.

Just when you thought a home was supposed to be a haven and place of safety, statistics show that girls and women are at greater risk of violence in their own homes that anywhere else. The extent of domestic violence is not well known since a lot of women do not reveal being abused for fear of further abuse or other people’s reactions or simply because she does not believe she will be able to survive, financially or otherwise, without him.575410_411734832230784_1746245016_n


To all the beautiful women out there who are living in tough situations where they have to live with such violence, I am praying for you. I pray that you will have the courage to make the right choice, I pray that you will have the ability and capacity to actually leave and start your own life successfully.

You do NOT need him, and you certainly do NOT want him. You DO deserve better and life will lead you to it, should you only ask for it. If you have children, please do consider them in the equation and best believe that if he hits you once, he WILL do it again. GUARANTEED.