Waves of time: To be a little woman

Hi, guys and girls!

I don’t know your measurements but I know quite too well mines: I am 156 cm tall and 89 cm wide at my widest point, around my hips. I’ve always been the shortest girl in the classroom, since my first day at Kindergarten. But along the words of the most famous Jebediah Springfield (look out The Simpsons for reference about the man), I’ve always believed that:

A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man!

Hence, the smallest woman. I think this is one of the reasons why I started my fitness program. I know I can’t enlarge myself too much, but I wanted my small mass to count more. I liked the idea of adding to my basis weight, to toughen up and change my fat into muscle. Muscles weight more, consume more and, on the other hand, take less space.

I couldn’t find online the right image about my favourite moment from 1995 film Ghost in The Shell, by Mamoru Oshi, but picture this: the small framed, gracious, athletic major Motoko Kusanagi, a human-cyborg policewoman, after an incredible jump lands with her knee on the ground and… her little knee breaks the ground. That is because the small framed, gracious, athletic Motoko is made of steel and weighs tonnes. You can even hear the sound effect of her mass hitting the ground like a lead hammer on a rock. It’s just a short moment, then she stands up and continues pursuing her suspect running, but you still can see the hole she left in the ground behind her. That moment exalted me the first time (and any other time) I’ve seen that movie. The idea of a hidden power, of a strength you can’t spot at first sight. I want to have that kind of power. I want to feel that kind of strength running through my body. 

To be a little woman means that most of the people you’ll meet in your life are going to belittle you, at first sight. The most stupid will continue in doing so, the others sooner or later will grasp what lies beyond. The important thing is that you understand what lies beyond, that you are able to grasp your inner strength. The important thing is that you understand your potential, that you are an apple seed able to see the potential apple within yourself. I think this works for small and not so small women (and men) as well.

To be a little woman, to me, meant that I could disappear into the crowd, make myself invisible. Along the years, being little meant that I could use my appearance to pass as harmless and have people, especially men, feel unthreatened by my presence. Sometimes, especially with bigger built women, it meant the right opposite. Some of them felt menaced by me being the physically fragile woman that society wanted and that they could never be. To be different was not in my power, just like they could not change themselves. Every time it happened I felt a deep sorrow. Simply, I could not bring them to trust me and I could not speak openly about what I believed was their problem with me.

What I am trying to do currently with my small body is learning how to embrace my shape and experience my body at its best, just like the human mind of Motoko Kusanagi does with her cyborg body. 

First, I accepted that fact that I am little and thin and that to reach what I think is my perfect shape means to have even fewer curves that I had before. Physically, I’m not the woman that I thought I was.

Second, I am working to toughen my body (and with it, my mind as well) to have it carrying myself safely and efficiently around as long as it can.

Third, I want to learn to take pleasure from my shape. I want to do this in two ways. First, I’d like to have fun with fashion, decorating this small body of mine in the ways that are is own. I’d like to use more colours, different styles, play with my smallness. Then, I want to find a discipline that helps me living this body, playing with it, seeing which new levels of grace it can reach. Could it be aerial silk art? Pole dancing? Simply some kind of dancing? I still don’t know, but I will.

Summarising: where’s the fun of having the body of a 12 years old girl, if you don’t embrace life as she would? 

My message for you this week, guys and girls, is PLAY. And, as always, thank you for your precious time. 

Waves of time: what about the look?

The last time I spoke about shaping a personal style (here), I declared my love for all the things both tough and cute. I stated that I am a cartoon lover, a rock and metal listener, a merchandising purchaser and that I feel liberated when I can dance foolishly in my house while I listen to pop music. Sometimes, I even sing under my breath while strolling about the town. I admitted to myself that I’d really like to wear bright colours, cute dresses, anime inspired shoes while writing or talking about grim tales all the day long, but… recently I started to work in a store that has its own style and while on the job I have to conform to it. Even worst, since I work there from a very short time, I still don’t have an official uniform made with clothes purchased in the store and to conform, I have to wear plain black garments.

Let me be honest, I rather like the store style, even if it’s not exactly the style I was pointing to. What is annoying me is wearing black. And so, I didn’t resist and even if I still have not received my clothing allowance, I purchased a dress from the store discount racks. It’s a nice sleeveless dress, with a pattern of blue and grey checks and that’s enough to make me breathe again. I bought it one day and wore it the next, feeling relieved by finishing my outfit with blue stockings and blue shoes. In all my life, I’ve never had such a strong reaction about the colours of what I was wearing. It was like a burden had been lifted from all my body.

The next day, though, I had to wear black again. I know, I should build my job uniform piece by piece and be more patient. It’s simply the most important lesson I should learn: be patient.

As for the makeup – at least the makeup I use at work – I reached a sort of uniform with that too. Every morning, I put on some light foundation. I thicken my eyebrows passing a small brush with a taupe eyeshadow among them. I put a light strand of blush on my upper cheeks. I underline my eye’s shape with some eyeshadow at the low exterior corner. Sometimes I put on the lips a light gloss, some other days I use a matt darker red lipstick. And that’s all. The result appears light and polished. 

Speaking about my shape, instead, I have to say that working out is changing my body in ways I didn’t completely expect. I thought I was already rather skinny, but most definitely, I am shrinking further. I can’t even predict if at the end of the process my body shape will still be the hourglass. My hips have narrowed, while my shoulders – which were already pretty bony – obviously did not, so maybe I shape wasn’t the hourglass after all. Also, the training made me lose another cup size, so that maybe in the future I won’t need a bra anymore. It is already something that I wear more as a habit and as a way to feel protected than as a real support.

Furthermore, right this morning I noticed another thing: my body is not simply shrinking, it is also hardening. I casually touched my thighs in the bathroom and I felt they were harder and firmer than I remembered. Even tough I started Emily Skye’s program to tone up, the thing surprised me. I didn’t really believe I could change my texture.

Summing up all I said before, I start thinking that this forced delay in my making over is not an all bad thing. I will have more time to evaluate what is happening to my body, what are the style needs of my day-to-day life and what I truly like. The result would be a compromise between my personal tastes, my current job’s duty and the new body shape I am moulding through my working out. As you might have noticed, I didn’t mention the age factor. I’m boldly trying to pretend society doesn’t impose age conformity.

And you? What are you compromising to conform to society/work request? Would you compromise at all or are you a fierce conformity fighter? In the meanwhile, thank you for your precious time and have a most excellent stylish week.

Waves of time: kawaii shell, metal core

“Please, Nina. You don’t look like a cartoon. You ARE a cartoon.”

 – A friend of mine, around 15 years ago –


Some days ago I had a sudden revelation while listening to Babymetal and headbanging, and dancing, and yes, also folding laundry in my very adult bedroom. I know that now, my dear reader, you have more questions about Babymetal than my revelation, but it is all linked together, so bear with me.

Continue reading

Waves of time: 18 days to 40s

Thursday morning I took some pictures of my hair to start journaling the progress of my greys through my hair. Then, I tried to enhance a little the shoot of a strand of hair that was almost colourless and the bluish filter won the contest. I liked how it transformed my hair into something similar to water waves under the moonlight. Thanks to the picture I found the title for the series of post as well: waves of time.

I don’t remember if I already talked about this subject, but I can’t stand the concept of activities or choices limited by reached age limits. In an era of broadening relativism, a woman still can’t wear a short skirt after her forties? Or it was in her thirties? I sense the limits are expanding, but still, they are stupid boundaries. These limitations are silly in their subject and their mere existence as well. I am not writing this because someone criticised my outfit, I rarely wear skirts at all. What I want to sell here is the chance of a second adolescence, a period of change and growth between the running-out-of-time adulthood of the forties and the full maturity of the sixties. At least, I want like to live my next twenty years that way.

Continue reading