Tuesday, July 13, 2010

self aware and a couple of ballerinas

Ballerina scarf and bustled dress: a surprisingly good combination.

I found this scarf about a week ago at Ratsy's vintage store. It was about $5, like most of her scarfy offerings. It has the cutest little ballerinas dancing about the edges. I love the contrast of orange and white and there's also a deep blue in the skirts too. I was debating whether it was too cutesy, but my intense fondness for ballerinas won out. I didn't ever go through a horse phase as a child, but I did go through a period of wanting to be a ballerina. I adored the flouncy tutus, seeing the Nutcracker at the Pacific Northwest Ballet and changing from a fancy dress into pajamas at intermission, the Degas dancers that my mother hung on the wall of my Monet Water Lilies-themed room, the miniature Angelina Ballerina books that I read from cover to cover.

I've been thinking a lot about self-image lately. I realize that this blog is a bit of an exercise in narcissism, as many blogs are. I wonder with every image I upload, is this unnecessary? Does this tell a story? Do I look self-absorbed/pretentious/pretty/ugly/fat? With scrutiny of women's bodies touted as an appropriate element of television and internet media, I can't help but look at myself the same way. When it comes down to it, there aren't many women who look like me in the popular media. In fact, I don't see a representation of most of the women that I know, and many of the things that I find the most beautiful about my friends and me - tightly corkscrewed curls, small chests and big hips, big chests and small hips, hands that have seen work, curvy stomachs, strong noses - are ignored at the least and criticized at the worst.

Which is where blogs come in. Blogs were a big part of why I started knitting more, and why I got better at knitting. I pored over Grumperina, Brooklyntweed, and Cosmicpluto on breaks between writing sentences for a grammar workbook. (Find the preposition in this sentence: I would like to put that yarn on my face.) As the years passed, my list of oft-visited blogs got longer and longer. One thing that I really appreciated, and still appreciate, about these blogs, is that they're written by normal people who eat carbs, who have illnesses and dogs who shed and the same wonderful imperfections that we all have, who knit garments for themselves that fit well and look beautiful. After seeing so much whackadoodle body image garbage on television (for instance: Britney Spears is or ever was fat. Uhhh yeah, in Backasswards land...) it's so, so wonderful to see a diverse group of people with great senses of style, gobs of talent, and pointy needles to make the magic happen - all of whom are also gracious enough to share photographs and thoughts and projects with the internet.

In the end, I'm not sure where I fit into that blogging community that I find so beloved. And that's ok. But if y'all ever tire of seeing the same "Cory puts on a dress and stares out into space artistically lol" content, please do feel free to let me know.


Ondrea said...


DUDE, I sooo went through a horse phase. It actually never stopped; it just went dormant, waiting....

Your blog is you. And that is just right.

Cory Ellen said...

Hee hee. Perhaps a horsey would like to come hang out with your beta fish?

And thanks. :)