Making a wreath for February/Valentine’s Day
After Christmas, there is always this weird period of time between January and the beginning of spring where I don’t really have anything for my door. I do have a winter wreath that’s just greenery, but I have been looking at that since after Thanksgiving. So, I decided to make a wreath for February. Especially after I saw this one on Pinterest.

BUT, it didn’t have a how-to, so here is what I did to create a version of that wreath.
First, the supplies. You’ll need:
Wreath
Yarn
Pins (small, flat head)
Glue
Felt/Fleece
I really wanted one of those white foam wreaths, but I couldn’t find one. Plus, the wreath that I got was only $5.
To start, make a knot at the end of the yarn. Then, put a pin through the knot so that it stays in place.
Push the pin into the back and start to wind the yarn around the wreath.
It will be slow going, so don’t get discouraged!
Then just wind and wind and wind. I cut the yarn into manageable pieces and pinned them on. The smaller pieces allow you to get a nice, tight wrap.
I would just use the next piece to go over the pin so you can’t even see them when you look at it.
Wrapping is complete!
And then pick out the colors for your hearts. I picked pink and red since those were the colors I thought were in the Pinterest one, but I also bought white since I thought I might want three colors. I purchased red and pink felt, but I bought white fleece because it wasn’t as see-through as the white felt.
Then, initially I got a template off the Internet to cut out my hearts.
But when I laid them out, I didn’t like them.
So I tossed the template and just free-handed it. I also decided to ditch the pink.
After you cut out all your hearts, arrange them as you would like on the wreath.
Take your yarn and cross it over each heart. Some will stick up, but don’t worry about it.
Once you have them all crossed, get your glue. Use toothpicks (at least that it what I used) to help get the glue down into the hearts.
And once it is dry … it’s finished!
Making a Christmas card wreath
My old card wreath sucked. I couldn’t fit but like 6 cards in it and whenever I went to add a card, half of them would fall out. So this year, I decided to fight back and make my own card wreath (as seen above). (Since I couldn’t find any in the store, much less one that I really liked.) Here is how I made it …

The supplies
My supplies:
Clothespines (I ended up using about 30 of them)
Paint (it doesn’t really matter what colors you pick)
Wooden balls with predrilled holes (I ended up using 14 of each color.)
Wire hoop (I had issues with this, but more on that later.)
I went with Americana’s Plantation Pine (dark green), Hauser Medium Green and Deep Burgundy.
I did test other colors, but decided to go more wintergreen than bright greens.
I took apart the clothespins to get ready for painting. If you paint them when they are together, you miss a big chunk where the wire is and it’s easier to paint them shut.
I used a disposable bowl for faster cleanup.
Paint one side at a time allowing it to dry, otherwise it will stick to the newspaper (if you are using newspaper to protect your table). Some of them needed two coats (especially the dark green), some of them will only need a touch-up.
You will notice the ones that have bits of paper stuck to them … hint: I tried to paint both sides at once. You can just paint over them and it’s not even noticeable. Score! Plus, if you really mess one up, just point that side to the back.
After letting them all dry. It’s now time to put them back together again. This is NOT fun. I did not document this step with photos. I don’t think the camera would have captured all the cursing going on anyway.
After painting the pins, or as you let them dry, it’s time to paint the beads. After trying to just paint them, I realized that there was no good way to set them down on the paper without them sticking. Lightblub! If you have any footed glassware get them out, turn two over and get your floral wire (or any wire really).
Attach it to one end, thread the beads onto the wire, then connect it to the other side.
Viola! Instant bead painting station.
So after you get all the springs back on and the beads are dry, it’s time to put them on the hoop.
It took me like three stores to find this metal hoop. Good news: I finally found it, yeah! Bad news: The hoop was too thick to fit through the clothespins. Be careful when picking out hoops for this reason. So it was back to the drawing board …
So I took this wire wreath holder (which fit through the clothespins and was the only other metal hoop I could find) and used a pair of wire cutters to get one hoop off. Good thing about doing it this way was that I would get at least two hoops easily (four if I really wanted to work for it) from one.
Now comes the time to put it all together. This is the first pattern that I tried. I realized, however, that I didn’t like the light green bead up against the light pin, so I went back and repainted half the light green beads to be dark green. Basically the moral of this tale is to plan your pattern beforehand.
So after you get the pattern that you want on and fill the hoop (remember to leave room for the bow), it is time to attach the ends together. Originally, I had grand ideas of using metal glue to put them together. By the time I got to this step though I really didn’t want to wait for anything else to dry. Enter the duct tape. That’s right, I used duct tape. What are you going to do about it?
I just wound it around a couple of times (after moving it at least twice to get the shape that I wanted). It worked awesomely. Before you make things final, hang it on the wall a couple of times to make sure that it is going to fall how you would like it. Too tight and it won’t touch the wall at all. Too loose and it starts looking like an oval.
Time to get out the ribbon. Remember to get wired ribbon because it’s easier to work with and will keep it’s shape. I am awful at making bows so I won’t go step-by-step. I’m sure you have a better way to make them than I do. If you are bow-making challenged, you can always just buy one.
After the bow is completed, just wind the wire from the bow around the duct tape. Duct tape actually turned out to be a good idea because it kept the bow in place. Ha! There’s a method to my madness.
Then flip it over, find a good place for it on your wall and display the glory that is your new Christmas card wreath!
Fattie Fall Fashion 2011 Edition
Oh, Fall, I love thee so.
Only thing I despise (besides raking leaves) is matching up socks because I have to put my flip-flops away. That’s a sad day for all.
About this time, I lust after a new wardrobe. I don’t really have that many cold-weather items that I love anyway so I always find myself window shopping for them even though I have no cash flow for which to stock my closet. Thus I give you fall items I’m lusting after and would buy if I were rich.
I don’t really shop at Nordstrom (see money issue above), but they have really stepped up their game in the plus-size department. There were several items where I went , “SQUEE, SO CUTE!”
I am just loving flowy dresses. Does this dressscream Fall or what?

Ellen Tracy Belted Chiffon Dress
$138.00
Nordstrom
ECI Tie Neck Stretch Silk Shirtdress
$168
Nordstrom
I have always lusted after sweater dresses. I have never found one that was actually looked good on me (I end up looking super frumpy and boxy), but maybe this is the one? A girl can hope, right?

Love Squared Short Sleeve Cable Sweaterdress
$64.00
Macy’s
I don’t generally have that much luck with sweaters in general. Lots of plus-size ones are just big and bulky and seem to have one goal in mind: Cover up the fattie! I want mine to be cute, dammit! Plus-size sweaters tend to lack any pattern at all. The “regular” sizes will have cute designs, but then, starting with 1X, they go to just one solid color. UGH. This is why I tend to just layer a lot. And cardigans tend to OK for the most part.
Super adorable.
American Rag Plus Size Cardigan
$49.00
Macy’s
I love cute jackets. I have a khaki corduroy one that I got at Old Navy years and years ago that I still wear. It has seen better days, but I just can’t give it up yet. Here are some other ones that I’m crushing on. I don’t really understand why all of these don’t have long sleeves, but they are so cute to make a big deal about details.
Charcoal Stripe Jacket
$64.50
Torrid
I really wish this one didn’t have a hood! Otherwise, it’s super cute!
Black and White Stripe Jacket with Hood
$58.50
Torrid
I have always wanted cool rain boots. My gigantic feet and colossus calves have generally thwarted my attempts, but the Avenue has come through! I’m not a big fan of animal print, but I think they are pretty adorable, plus they go up to my size (12) which I can NEVER find in anything that looks remotely feminine (read hunting boots). So I’ll probably give them a chance (especially because they are on sale now).
Moxee Leopard Rain Boots
$49.90 ($39.99 right now)
Avenue
Why can’t these come in any other colors??? Gray or black? I mean really. I got super cute tall (gray) boots last year, now I just need short boots … guess I’m still looking. Oh, I didn’t even realize, but these don’t even come in my size. Torrid shoes normally go up to 12, must be the “Fergi” label … guess I’m glad they don’t have them in black. I’ll keep a look out for similar ones though.
Fergalicious by Fergie
Val Brown Double Buckle Ankle Boot
$70.00
Torrid
Well, that’s it for now … I’ll just be over here drooling.
Fatties have money for fashion, too!
I was recently sent a link to CNN’s article “Plus-sized women: It’s our turn for fine fashion.” The article takes a look at the fashion industry and why they aren’t catering to fat people, etc. I thought it was a great article — even though a little fluffy (hee). It doesn’t even bring up how we need to lose weight once (which is such a rarity and much-needed change). I even loved some of the clothes that were showcased at the top.

I seriously want this dress. It is Anastasia maxi dress by Sealed With A Kiss Designs. It shows up in the fourth slot in the slideshow in the article. It looks so flowy and fun. WANT WANT WANT.
The other piece that I loved was the shirt above. It is a Chateau chiffon tunic by Kiyonna. It will probably make me look pregnant, but the model is rocking it!
Seriously, if fat clothes loved more like these, I would be in heaven! I went shopping last weekend, I ended up with a pair of jeans (which is actually great for me), but still. ONE pair of pants. I was ready for a shopping spree!
My problem is that I hate online clothes shopping. As you know, women’s clothing sizes can vary in different colors of the same shirt. So, understandably, I can be wary of buying unfelt, not tried on stuff. Don’t even get me started on shipping charges. So most of the time I have to resort to what’s in the stores. Which is HORRIBLE. I always joke that once you locate the dark corner of the store which is the “Women’s” section, you know it because the clothes get ugly and looks like they are from the 1990s (and sometimes ’80s). (I’m pretty sure that’s the last time lots of stores updated the section.)
I was happy to see the article and excited about the potential for cute clothes. This excitement was dampened when I looked below the article. I know, my fault, but I couldn’t help it.
This leads me to the question, why does every article on plus-sizes or fattie fashion turn into a fat people bashing in the comments?
I normally don’t read the comment section on articles for this very reason. However, I thought maybe this time it would be different, but I people too much credit.
Let’s look at some of the awesome comments from the peanut gallery.
What does this have to do with the fashion article that was written?
“You do deserve a level of hostility considering overweight and unhealthy people raise the overall cost of health care.”
Wow, thanks for this: “Overall, fashionable clothes or not, no one looks good in size 20.” I choose to take this out of context and think maybe she’s talking about if the person isn’t actually size 20. Someone calls her out that fat guys play football, she counters with “I meant ladies’ size 20
” First of all, I want to slap that smile off her face. Secondly, why is it OK for guys to be fat , but not women. Oh, wait, she continues … “We all have issues – mine is to get through to people who are under the fat spell.” What do you think this “fat spell” could be? Are we all just fat because we all have curses on us? Are we actually in the world of Harry Potter? FAT MUGGLE AND PROUD!
Lots of the comments said something to the effect of “There shouldn’t be fat clothes because we don’t deserve them.” We don’t deserve to have clothes? Really? Somehow I think that having all the fat people you despise walking around naked would defeat your point. It would just make our lovely lumps and bumps be in your face even more, so think about that.
I would keep going, but I am just getting angrier and angrier. So some of the nice highlights from the comments:
Annie1979: “Ah, the last allowable discrimination in this country. If these comments were anti gay ,anti black, anti Jewish, anti anything else, this comment board as well as the article provoking such hate would’ve been pulled immediately. The models look beautiful and despite what many of the folks writing these comments think (because they are all perfect in every way, I’m sure) these ladies are people with lives and lovers and friends and families and careers and morals!”
Canada411: “I’m just gonna come out and say it. These are not PLUS SIZED women, these are NORMAL SIZED women.”
suz321: “I always find it interesting when there’s an article about anorexia, the majority of comments are compassionate and understanding of it being a medical condition. But when there’s an article like this one about overweight women, the majority of the comments are judgmental and verbally abusive.”
So, to end things, any light that we can shed on the lack of fat fashion the better! Stores need to realize that fatties have money, too! Money that spends just as well as skinny money.
By BMI, I am too fat to live
I am morbidly obese.
That’s right, according to my BMI, I should drop dead any second now.
And according to most websites, I should “seek medical help immediately.” I’m guessing they are alluding to weight-lose surgery or the like, because really, what else are they going to do? The most that would probably happen would be that I get a talking to and told to lose weight immediately or I will die fat and alone and a cat lady and soon, or whatever they are saying now and days to get people to lose weight.
For those of you wondering, my BMI is 42. Yeah, “normal weight” BMI is between 18.5 and 24.9. So I am almost double a normal weight. I would need to lose more than half of myself to get down to what I am told I need to be. Is it just me, or is that a lot?
To further illustrate this fact, there is an old gallery on Flickr that Kate Harding put together called ‘Illustrated BMI Catergories,” that while old, will further illustrate the fact that BMI is a broken, arcane system and should be updated or just done away with altogether.
Why did I bother to bring up BMI? Just thought you should know the next time you say to me, “You aren’t that fat,” etc., according to BMI, I am the walking dead.
Diet Talk is a No-No
Those are two horrible little words. I face it, you face it, we face it. Hell, you might even be the guilty party.
Oh, you know the ones, the people in your life that CAN’T STOP talking about their diet — what diet they are on, which one you need to get on, etc. “No, actually I don’t need to know how many carbs you can eat.”
Well, I’m sick of it. I don’t want to hear about it. I DON’T CARE.
Diet. Don’t diet. It’s your call.
I think people assume that just because I am fat I can relate to how they are feeling. Clearly I am on a diet, too. How dare I carry around this much weight and not try to starve myself.
Let me just get this out there. I am NOT on a diet. I DON’T plan to ever go on a diet. I don’t even want you saying that word around me unless you are using it in a positive manner.
POSITIVE: “So, I’m totally going to try to add more organic food into my diet.”
NEGATIVE: “Oh, I can’t eat that cookie, I’m on this new diet where I can only eat stuff that begins with z.”
I can’t relate. I just can’t. You know what happens when I’m hungry? I eat. You know what happens when I want a cookie? I eat a cookie. I eat a cookie and don’t feel guilty about it. And when I’m eating my cookie, don’t try to guilt trip me. I will probably just flaunt my cookie at you in response (“Yum, this is the best cookie EVER,”) and we don’t need that. I would win the cookie war.
My mom would always go on different diets when I was growing up. She has battled with her weight for as long as I can remember. These diets would be ridiculous. Does anyone remember The Cabbage Soup Diet? Basically, she made a shit ton of this cabbage soup and then that’s all she could eat. You could eat as much of it as you wanted, but that’s all you could eat.
My philosophy on diets is this: I would rather be fat and happy and die young than live forever on just cabbage soup. Clearly I was not meant for this world if to be in it I can only eat cabbage soup. No, Thank You.
So what prompted this post/bitching session?
At work, they have started a Weight Watchers group. Fine. If you are interested, great, go to the meetings. But it’s not just as simple as a couple of posters and an e-mail or two. They have sent out a TON of e-mails, there are always posters up about it and apparently they can draw the fee directly from our checks. Yeah! Glory Day!
I’m not being targeted because the e-mails are clearly being sent to everyone at my work, but I’m worried that it will come to that. Like one day they are going to send out special invites to the all the fatties in the office or something. I know it’s irrational, but the way they have been bombarding us with the WW propaganda you would start to question it, too.
So to sum it up … diet talk is bad. Umkay?
In my formative fat years …
I always hear fatties talking about how they were picked on as children, ridiculed as teenagers, and had all-around bad experiences being young and fat. Perhaps I am the exception, but I wasn’t. There are one or two times that I can point out as someone being mean to my face about my weight in my youth. Two times. And while this might be the case, I was not happy-go-lucky. Most of my hate came from within my family. Between my father and I, well, we pretty much had it covered.
I always hated my weight when I was younger. I really started packing on the pounds in middle school, and then it went up from there.
I remember vividly in high school, after I hit about 180 pounds, vowing to myself that I would kill myself if I ever hit 200 pounds. Now, this didn’t happen as I weigh much more than 200 pounds now and am still alive, but that illustrates how I was feeling at the time. Like if I didn’t stop gaining weight, then I wasn’t worth the air.
I wouldn’t allow myself to wear anything without sleeves. Be it dresses or tank tops, it must have sleeves. Why would I do that to myself? I lived in Georgia! It’s too hot not to wear a tank top. My standard wardrobe consisted of big t-shirts and tapered-leg jeans. Hot, right?
Not that I had many other options. Shopping was always a nightmare. Lane Bryant was skewed way too old and lots of places didn’t even carry my size at all. There was no Juniors Plus section. No Torrid. There wasn’t really any place to go at that period in my life. It would have been nice to have options during my formative years. Perhaps having something that actually fit and was cute would have given me more self-confidence, or maybe not, we shall never know.
Sometimes I would stand in front of the mirror after getting ready, and notice something that I thought was the end of the world, muffin top. I would start to outgrow my pants or I would just try to squeeze into a smaller size. When this would happen, I would either react by changing, going as it, or slapping my belly as hard as I could. I guess I thought that it would make my stomach disappear. It never worked though.
Throughout these years, I would wear my pants too tight. Either I didn’t want to admit to myself that they were too tight and go up the next size, or I figured that is what I deserved. It always seemed like they were too big or too small, and I guess I thought too small looked better. Years of this torture on my stomach resulted in a dark ring around my belly. It has mostly faded now, but the hint of it is still there. Scars from childhood I guess.
As most fat teens, I never thought that I ever had a chance with boys. Why would they like me? Looking back, I’m pretty sure I’ve could have scored a date or two. Hindsight, right?
I never really had any fat friends. ALL of my friends were skinnier. You always see “the fat friend” in movies and on TV, but that’s the role I played in my real life. This didn’t help the clothes situation either. They would also want to go to places that I could fit into. 5-7-9 anyone? How about 16-18-20? This also gave me a complex about letting people borrow my clothes. I never wanted anyone to know how large my clothes actually were. Looking back, I can’t help but shake my head at how ridiculous that sounds.
I was never a big dieter. I hated my weight, but I didn’t really do anything about it. My mother and grandmother dieted a lot and it never seemed to work for them, so I guess I figured, why would it work for me? Sometimes I would get on these kicks where I decided to write down my weight every day. I would try to work out using some of my mom’s tapes, like “Richard Simmon’s Sweatin’ to the Oldies” or Cher’s workout video, a couple of times and then see what happened. Problem being that it would never last more than a week.
I actually did play sports and was active. I played outside all the time, was on the soccer team and in marching band, but I was still fat.
My grandmother still battles with her weight today. She is a “I’m not going to do X until I lose weight,” keeping the skinny jeans, try every diet out there kind of person. She would give my mom weight-loss books and then tell her to give it to me when she was finished. She never really came right out and said anything but it was just slight things like that that would get under my nerves so bad. And still do until this day.
My father was always on me about my weight. He would constantly talk about how I was too big and needed to lose it, how I shouldn’t be eating that, etc. This continued until right before my freshman year in high school. His constant berating had gotten to me and this one fight got to be too much. I locked myself in the bathroom and then we screamed at each other through the door. Through a face full of tears, I finally stood up to my father and told him to stop it. I’ve had to do it a few times since, but that was the first time I told him to not say those things to me anymore. Since then, I’ve has to use such lines as, “I’m happy how I am, please stop bringing it up,” etc.
Course, he was even harder on my mother. My mother was always bigger growing up, and still is. A couple of times, she has lost a bunch of weight, but has always gained it back.
My parents would get into the worst arguments. Screaming and yelling. My father was an alcoholic and he would blame his drinking on my mother’s weight. As he saw it, she gained weight after marriage and the pregnancy to punish him, and so he drank. My mother sought comfort in food because of my father’s drinking. And round and round they went.
Moral of the story to a young girl: Food is comforting and by eating food I was going against the man. Perhaps it isn’t so cut and dry, but it has definitely left me with some food issues. If I have had a bad day or I’m stressed, it is still an easy solution to turn to food.
I have never been the one to eat a whole pizza or eat a ton of candy all the time. I would definitely have food guilt when my friends and I would go to the food court at the mall. “If I order fries, then everyone will just think, ‘Look at that fattie with the fries. That’s why she is fat!’” And I would never order more than my friends did. If I was still hungry, I would suck it up until such time that I was alone and then I would eat freely. My one friend was rail thin and would eat a whole pizza. She ate constantly and never changed. I just didn’t understand it. Why couldn’t I be like that, too? Body envy as a child is normal I think, but metabolism envy? Maybe not.
I know you are probably expecting some moral to the story, some shining pearl of wisdom that will help you accept who you are, but sadly I don’t have one, but I am living proof that you can make things turn around — a teen fattie can become a big beautiful woman.
All I can say is that it’s a really long, hard battle to finally accept your body and who you are, but oh, is it worth it.
Is Your Kitchen Making You Fat?
I just read this article on FirstCoastNews.com, “Is Your Kitchen Making You Fat?”
I’m going to go out on a limb and say, No, me putting food in my mouth is probably the culprit.
The reasons your kitchen makes you fat according to the article?
1. Your plates are too big.
Just because my plates are bigger doesn’t mean I fill them up. If they were a lot smaller and I was still hungry, I would get seconds. No, as mentioned later in the article, I am no too lazy to go get seconds. I may be fat but I’m not a lazy.
2. Your glasses are wide.
This doesn’t really apply to me since I don’t drink soda, but if I had smaller glasses, I would just refill it. I really don’t get how this article can say that if fat people get smaller dishes, they would lose weight and not be fat. Plus, I’m not going to go out and buy all new dishes. That money would probably be better served with a gym membership (if I was actually trying to lose weight) or healthier foods to go on my gigantic plates.
3. Your counters are cluttered.
If I have clutter, it doesn’t make me eat bad foods. I’d say not wanting to do dishes, etc. would make me want to order out. Or, god for bid, I had a craving for some pizza. I don’t think authors of this article realize that you can just make homemade pizza, too. And that has nothing to do with clutter.
4. You serve food family style.
“When heaping bowls of food are in front of you, you’re much more likely to scoop another helping than if you have to cross the room to get to the extras.”
HA. HA. Apparently they think I’ll have to waddle on over and that’s just TOO MUCH for me to handle. Me being fat and all. What a riot.
5. You have a clear cookie jar.
I don’t even own a cookie jar. Next.
6. Your kitchen is grand central.
I have an average-sized kitchen, and I wouldn’t want a smaller one. Bigger yes, smaller no. Why? Because I LOVE to cook. This one is somehow missing from the list.
Let’s consider that it’s not the kitchen’s fault. It’s not even the food’s fault. YOU are responsible for the food that goes in your kitchen. Just man up about it and stop trying to get us to gut our kitchen.










































































