Jun 2, 2011

The Whole Shebang

Today is a shout out!! I wanted to feature guest bloggers, The Whole Shebang. If you haven't already heard of these ladies, you will soon.

They are described like this,"Three Women – Professional actresses, provocative thinkers, savvy entrepreneurs, shameless promoters, fearless heroines, emotional rodeo clowns and sexy swashbucklers – Living fearlessly and writing about it. We are over 18 and You should be too. Not kidding."

Intrigued? Thought so.

Follow their blog:

Find them on Facebook:

Check out links above for photos, bios and much more.

The trio is made up of redhead JJ Neward, blonde Emily Pearson and brunette Laura Montoya. Smart, funny and witty beauties, there's something for everyone on their blog, doesn't matter if you're male or female.

Here is a recent post from JJ that I particularly liked...

Monday, May 30, 2011

I am not fat. I am not skinny, either. Nor am I short, nor exceptionally tall. I am fairly certain I am "real," however. If I were to gain 40 pounds, I would still be real. If I lost a limb or a breast or 20 pounds I would be as real as I am in this moment.

I have arms that have long since lost the chiseled features of a college swimmer and resemble very little of Venus Williams'. Although willowy no longer, my arms have cradled a friend's newborn child and hugged my grandfather lovingly as he died.

I have legs that look nothing like Jennifer Aniston's. God bless how beautiful she is, and I think she probably works pretty hard at it, too. Maybe not. I really don't care. She's gorgeous. But as for me, my legs have traveled miles while willing myself to finish a marathon, sobbing over a breakup, or when silently inhaling the amazing features of my surroundings.

My thighs are full and struggle to fit in a pair of Seven jeans. But they've cradled lovers, been a perch for pets, and contain enough fat to get me through a natural disaster. I like living, so this is a plus.

I have a butt which will never be mistaken for a Kardashian's. But this butt, which looks as if it is eating a thong rather than wearing it, has cushioned me through the most exquisite music concerts, lively dinners with loved ones around my table, and long flights to exotic locales.

My hands will never advertise nail polish or skin cream. But they've played Liszt and Chopin, can speak to someone who can't hear, and made a cross stitch which my father says would be the only thing he'd grab if his house caught on fire.

My feet are huge and often contained in amazing 4-inch heels (which they hate wearing). But here's the thing: they sometimes make a solid, heavy sound as I walk (whether in said heels or sneakers), and this is a comforting reminder that I take up space in this world; that my feet send out balance and solidity. That yes, I do stand firm and rooted and viable.

This very pale skin of mine is often slathered in SPF 4,000,000. This is what is needed when a person does not want to burn her skin and wince all day long from trying to look as golden as the extraordinary athlete Gabrielle Reece. Although not deeply tanned, my skin has felt the deliciousness of loving contact, the smack of being hit, and houses all the sensations of the seasons changing.

The thing is, while I appreciate the gestures of folks assuring me that "real women have curves," I know that real women come very thin (without suffering from anorexia), with no breasts, with enormous breasts, with curvy silhouettes, with fat silhouettes, with one breast, with no uterus, with bad skin, with birthmarks, with freckles, with stretch marks, tall and sturdy, small and diminutive, and every single thing in between. It is harmful to all of us to start excluding the curve-less (or "_______") and to diminish ANY woman's place in this world by saying they are less "real." This becomes even more important if we remember that there is something all together unknowable which makes women women. My body allows for the richness of life, however that presents itself.

It is in this rich experience that we become similar; that the comparison of life - or body - becomes unnecessary.

I don't know what defines a "real woman" (I've thought for a long time it might be how she treats someone who can't possibly do her any good). But I'm fairly certain it won't be contained in yet another distracting, limited sense of a woman's external features. We women don't need to push other women out; there is room for all of us.

So I guess, simply put, Real Women are.

* * * * * * * * * *

Each lovely lady takes turns posting, and there will soon be video!

Some posts are funny, some are serious and some topics are respectfully and smartly debated among the ladies and readers. And these ladies can all write!

So head over to their facebook and blog, get to know them and hear what they have to say on everything, ranging from fashion to cougars to race to poetry to bedazzled penises.

Trust me, this trio is a force to be reckoned with. Keep an eye on them! ;)

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