Hello my loves,

Last week saw me at a burlesque performance, enveloped in dry ice and seductively dim lighting at a table perched next to the stage. As the house lights went down and the music went up, the first performer made her way out, demurely attired in a pretty pink dress that covered her from neck to knee. And she proceeded to give us all a lesson in what it is to be a woman. The energy she was radiating was absolutely incredible, so seductive and saucy and sweet. Because it was burlesque, the pretty pink dress was not long for this world. It was delicately removed to reveal this woman’s full glory, perfectly displayed in gorgeous vintage lingerie. And here’s the thing about this lady: she was a curvy woman. Voluptuous and full-figured, with a bum and thighs and a tummy. And she absolutely owned it. She moved that body like I’d never seen a body move before, celebrating it and showing it off and seducing every single person in the room. She was incredible. As her performance came to a close, a friend sitting behind me whispered five awe-filled words into my ear: “there’s hope for us yet”.

Yes my love. I couldn't have said it better myself. There’s hope for us yet. I’m willing to hazard a guess that whatever your body shape is, there’s something about it you’d like to change. Something (or lots of things) that you really wish weren’t the way that they are. If only this looked like that, and that looked like hers (or his or theirs – from what I’ve observed, gender is irrelevant here, and we’re all playing the same self-defeating game).

But what if you didn’t need to change a thing? What if you stared yourself full in the face and simply accepted and celebrated what you are, whatever that is? What if you just totally owned yourself, all of yourself, and focused your energy on absolutely rocking it? Because the fact is, no two bodies are the same. Whatever your body-image ideal is, I can tell you that the person you think embodies it is likely spending their time wishing for a whole different set of attributes. We’ve all been taught to pick ourselves apart, piece by piece, analysing and sighing and feeling like we don’t measure up. It’s time to put that toxic equation away, and focus instead on radical acceptance of who you are. Curvy, lithe, athletic, large, small or medium: who cares. I’ve had two figures in my life: one that was very slim, and one that’s now a little rounder. So I know that being slim isn’t the answer, and comes with its own set of concerns. It’s not about what makes up the parts. It’s about what makes up your energy. This incredible burlesque performer schooled us all in what it means to powerfully own and celebrate your body for what it is. Her love for her body shone through, and that is what made her beautiful.

I’ve been working on this for years now, but sometimes I still stumble. A few weeks ago I was in a vampy bra shop, trying on vampy bras. As the lovely bra-helping lady hitched me into a particularly fine specimen, I noted some extra flesh spilling out under my arm. And I did that thing: I zeroed in on it, and I didn’t really like what I saw. I pointed it out to the bra-helping lady, and asked her if I perhaps needed a different size. She looked me dead in the eye and said: “No. It’s called being a woman”. And a hallelujah chorus sounded off in my heart. Because hell yes! It’s called being a woman! We aren’t made of moulded plastic, we are not all the same. We’re gloriously us, and we are who we are, and IT’S CALLED BEING A WOMAN!! God, it was so empowering. Needless to say, I bought the bra.

And so my loves, I’ll leave you to a long weekend of trying radical acceptance on for size. I hope you find it a very comfy fit 🧡.

Love, Rachel xxx

PS If you’re in Sydney, and fancy an old-school evening of amazing burlesque performances, interspersed with comedy and a little bit of magic, I highly recommend The Night Cap Dinner Show at the fabulous Bamboozle Room in King’s Cross. It’s a celebration of the female form, in the most tasteful and empowering of ways, and I had a LOT of fun.