Fashion can play quite a complicated role in the lives of many women. It fills our media, acts as a social currency for chatting to our peers, and is a regular weekend pursuit for many yet how many of us are truly happy getting dressed? How many of us stand in front of a full wardrobe, feeling we have nothing to wear?
Beauty and happiness do not actually go hand in hand, one does not automatically equate to the other. There is after all a beauty that we all agree on- the beautiful people in Hollywood, the models and anyone who essentially graces the front cover of Sports illustrated Magazine!
Confidence in ourselves, in our children is the most powerful weapon for life, for love, for everything. Believing you're great because you're funny, smart, creative or kind is the ultimate force in attraction, and of sexiness. Nothing competes with making someone laugh.
#DontJudgeChallenge is indicative of a whole lot more than just one meme. It's an example of a certain kind of web culture at its worst - a smug, "clicktivist" culture that presumes complex social problems can be smoothed over with a cute selfie, that assumes a mask of social concern while using the opportunity as an exercise in blatant narcissism.
When it comes to consuming media in 2015, there is literally nowhere to hide. Whether you're a check-your-phone-every-30-seconds-er, or someone who only logs into news and social media sites a few times a day, we are all constantly being bombarded with images of perfection that we couldn't escape from - even if we wanted to.
Over the years, I have learnt that my scars make people uncomfortable. I had become ashamed of my body and soon other people's disgust became my own and this was allowed to be the case because of one simple reason - I had no one to talk to about it.
While I was catching up on Made in Chelsea (post-study abroad life) an advert for Wilkinson Sword popped up. It showed a girl talking about jumping in...
It goes without saying that any man who criticises a woman for being overweight deserves to be punched in the balls. And in the interest of equality, any woman who criticises a man for being overweight should be punched in the boobs. But this, in my experience, is easier said than done.
Wearing a smart suit, a pair of killer heels, a dash of lipstick, an expensive aftershave, having a beauty treatment, a new hairdo makes us feel much more confident, knowing that we're looking good. When we feel we look the part we're often able to raise our game and portray that positive persona. We stand taller, feel more in control.
Yes, I have gained weight. I'm bigger and rounder and fleshier than I've ever been. But I've gained so many other things in the process too; the extra pounds of flesh and fat are just a tiny part of all the other abundances.
You stirred a dormant fear that every woman who was ever a teenage girl has - that it doesn't matter how funny you are, how clever, how kind, how passionate, how loyal, how determined or adventurous or vibrant - if you're a stone overweight, no one will ever find you desirable.
What Bare Reality allows women to do is take back our boobs - which allows us to reclaim our individuality, our autonomy, and become the tellers of our own stories. Yeah, I've got boobs, but I can also play the piano, quote extensively from the Alan Partridge canon, and tell you that I don't want to be the prime minister but I definitely want to change the world.
Maybe it is like the old adage better to have loved and lost than never have known love at all. Except it isn't really lost - according to the Buddhists, I just need to remove the obstacles that get in contentment's way. Happiness is our natural state, maybe I need to stop trying quite so hard, in every direction.
Sad to say that, the vast majority of men who I spoke to who were single and ready to date, refused to date 'fat girls'. Some disguised it as 'preferring girls to be fit' or 'wanting them to be in proportion' but we all knows what that means - find me skinny.
From as young as I can remember, I have had issues with my weight and body image. Age 11 and starting secondary school, my life told a totally different story from today. I was petite, with a rather boyish shape, straight up and down; no hips, no bust and no derrière.
When I was growing up there were no characters in books or on television that looked like me. I grew up with Barbie and Disney Princesses. There was no diversity in the characters I saw, just beautiful flawless females who I aspired to look like. But that was never going to happen.