The takeaway for the time-pressed/short attention span: I live in San Francisco now. It’s not my fault, my stupid too-smart husband got a stupid too-smart job. (It’s our anniversary today, by the way.) We made sure we took an apartment where no one got Ellis-acted. Winter notwithstanding, I already miss the Twin Cities terribly. My friends live there, and the Cities became part of me in an inextricable way.
I’ve been here since mid-September. It’s an adjustment. I am being completely ungracious about said adjustment – but I’m trying not to be mean about it.
During the six months of deciding to make the move and making it, I had two book contracts and a pile of articles to finish (about 8? I think the articles were still single digit, but came to about 12K altogether – not easy.) Blogging got waylaid. I still have an essay due, but I’ve earned a break. I really need an artist’s date/date with myself – a few weeks worth, actually.
I am easing my way into the city – I’m volunteering with the San Francisco tenant’s union, finishing out two book contracts for books that will come out in 2015? 2016? I’m unclear – and I am getting into a workout schedule that has a lot more Pilates and a lot less water aerobics to it. I’m even taking a bellydance class again. When it comes to plus size clothing, the thrift shops in San Francisco aren’t great, and I am resigned to chain stores. This place does have the unique benefit of Ross and Marshall’s chains coinciding. I haven’t had a chance to explore Oakland’s offerings. If Yelp is truthful, then Oakland is a veritable treasure-trove of plus-size boutiques to rival Portland. San Francisco can feel both welcoming and really hostile, sometimes from one second to the next. The morbidly obese Santa statue (belly hanging over the waistline) that I saw on Valencia yesterday was definitely one of the “fatties unwelcome” moments I had. Then again, edgy has gone from “experimental” to another word for “douchey” and nowhere exemplifies that quite like the bro culture endemic to the Mission District.
Fat Chic can’t keep the pace it used to, but I don’t feel right giving it up. I also do NOT feel right about the “offers” I’ve gotten for “guest blogging” from strangers. That’s a whole lot of marketing emails from people that really don’t get what I’m doing, or don’t get my voice, or want to cram Fat Chic into the groupthink that can often be any area of fashion, including plus size fashion. If I post to this at all, I want to be different from the other plus blogs out there. The best way to be different – and thus worth reading alongside those blogs – is unfortunately to not read those other blogs.
So for now, I’m going to move to a Pinterest board plus personal essays format. This will shift to being more about the plus size experience – and it’s just one experience. Other people have other experiences. I tend to see the world differently from the perspectives most of us have been taught, and that’s the real thing I have to offer you all. I can tell you this much: what I do won’t get me Instagram fame. I won’t trend on Twitter (on purpose, anyway.) What attention I’ve gotten has been purely accidental, often the result of marketers hoping I’d be on their message instead of mine.
What I do is effective, but it’s not flashy. It’s a very Gen X way to be, and that’s what I have to offer you.