Tag Archives: perfect

Post of Love and Happiness

10 Nov

Hello my darling readers!

This is Lilipop. I have been so super stressed and not very happy the last few weeks so I thought its time for a time out and a list of happy things to look at. Sometimes things get on top of you, you feel overwhelmed, everything is stressful and so I wanted to make a list of happy things that make me feel better.

1. Have a look on www.8tracks.com (its a bit like Spotify but without ads). I have found the best playlists on there by searching “misandry”, its totes brill. Here is my number one amazing song that I discovered there recently.


2. My feminist squish blanket!


3. Here is a quote from the NUS Women’s Officer, Kelly Temple (she is so cool) which puts into words my feelings about male feminists.

“Men who want to be feminists do not need to be given a space in feminism. They need to take the space they have in society & make it feminist.”

4. Talking to Jelly, she is really funny and a great best friend. We have a great game which is basically who can keep complimenting each other of the longest (you should try it).

5. Thinking up teen politics texts (it just really makes me laugh)

But like seriously babes, why should the value of my life be measured by the amount of money I earn, its like totes cray cray.

6. My friend Sophie has a youtube channel in which she makes the BEST teen fem friendly videos


7. Making things! It could be a feminist squish blanket, a nosewarmer, a mouse called Alice, a hat or a uterus with a bow tie!


8. Lots and lots of chocolate (obviously)


That time I dyed my legs purple

29 May

So one Thursday, on the way home from school, I decided I wanted to dye my leg hair purple. It was an amazing experience so I decided to show you what went well and what to avoid.

The first thing you need when dying your leg hair is a pair of legs. Here is an example (my legs):
It is preferable that the legs you choose have hair on them, as you will be dying the hair.

NEXT you should probably grab an assistant. Here is an example:
My assistant is Jelly.

And to dye your legs you also need some hair dye. I choose purple, cos its the best colour, but if you want another colour-or several then knock yourself out! I used permanent hair dye because semi permanent comes off on colours and sheets and it wears off really quickly! Here is my hair dye:
The disadvantage of permanent dye will be discussed later…

Now on with the dying! (You should probably do this in the bathroom)

This is the stuff that was in the box, very artfully arranged by yours truly. Make sure you have everything that the box says it has in it. Chances are you need it.


You also need some plastic glove things.

Next you need make the dye work or activate it or something. Just read the instructions.


Here is me making the dye work.

Now put on your plastic gloves otherwise your hands WILL turn purple for at least several days.


Here is me being precautions with my plastic gloves and my small hands.

*NOTE* If you have leg hair that is not very very blonde and the could you have chosen is not very dark then you will need you bleach your leg hair. You can use regular hair bleach or you can get special body hair bleach. The hair dye I got has magic bleach stuff in them so I didn’t bleach mine.

NOW IT IS TIME. I had never dyed any of my hair before this so I was super nervous but luckily I have my glamorous assistant JELLY who is very experienced. I just put the dye straight on my legs but you should not do this unless you are prepared to have coloured legs for several days.


Some suggestions I have had to protect skin from getting stained is to put vaseline on your legs before you put the dye on or use semi-permanent dye and then the get-dye-off-skin wipes.

Cover all the parts of your leg that you want to be colourful. I just did my lower leg because that is where most of my leg hair is. Looking back I think it is a better idea to do your whole leg or feet as well or else it looks quite strange.


Make sure all of the dyeing area is covered and roughly even.

Then do the other leg!


Yeah… I didn’t do this so well.

Now you have to wait for the time it says on the box before washing the dye off. We had quite a lot of dye left and had half an hour to kill so WE DYED OUR HAIR!


Here is Jelly with the bleach bits of her hair being dyed.

Okay, so the time is up! I left the dye on for a few minutes more than the box said because I have quite dark hair and that’s what Jelly told me to do but DO NOT DO THIS UNLESS YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND PLEASE DON’T BLAME ME!!


Here are my legs with the dye on.

So next wash off the dye. If you have used the semi-permanent dye or vaseline then you will need to use wipes to get that off your skin. The semi-permenant dye might still stain your legs a bit but it should come off if you wipe it a lot in 24 hours ish. If you used vaseline then I don’t know what will happen (if you use this method I would love to know if it worked so please let me know!)


As you can see my legs are still very stained.

I washed my legs a bit more with get-dye-off-skin wipes and it faded a bit.


Very purple legs.

And here are my legs the next day. They faded a bit but they stayed this colour for about 5 days before fading more than not being purple anymore. The actual hair on my legs is still a bit purple though.


In conclusion this was an awesome confidence building experience for me as well as a bonding experience for all of my friends we all ended up with at least a bit of us turned purple. I loved having purple legs for the short time they were purple, in spite of the mixed responses I got. To me this is another way to love myself and have fun. When I do dye my legs again (green next time I think) I will definitely be using permanent dye but I will bleach the hair before hand so it shows up better. I apologise for the photography in this post but I hope you are inspired to dye some of your body hair or get creative, I would love to hear about what you get up to or maybe even some pictures!

The Perfect Woman

16 Apr

Here is a post that I wrote for Project Naked

I know that, as a girl, I am judged every day for how I look and what I’m wearing. I am compared to my mother, my friends, models in magazines and people’s own ideas of how I should look. I am compared to this “Perfect Woman”, who is the patriarchal ideal of what a woman is meant to be.

The Perfect Woman is something everyone feels differently about. The media’s best efforts to brainwash us into worshiping a white, slim, able-bodied image of perfection have been mostly successful but we still have slightly different opinions about who and what is beautiful.

These ideas of perfection are so often very different, if not opposite, to how we really look and feel about ourselves, yet we feel obliged to try and make ourselves more like the Perfect Woman. This is a problem because in our patriarchal society, a women’s appearance and beauty are some of her most valued traits. Whether we want it to be or not it is ingrained in our society, in our minds and the people around us.

My picture of the perfect women is different from the way I look. Not opposite but far enough away that I know I will never look that way. I will always be subpar, inadequate, not quite good enough. But I know I am not alone. I have never met and I do not think there exists a single person on this earth that is even nearly happy with the way they look. In fact, in my experience, the people who are perceived as most beautiful have the most negative views about themselves. The most beautiful girl I know doesn’t even think she is pretty, let alone beautiful.

The perfect woman is a shadow in the front of our minds. A niggling voice saying we will never measure up. Telling us we aren’t beautiful, we aren’t desirable, we aren’t wanted.


I don’t like that voice and I don’t think you do either. Why should we measure and compare ourselves to this ideal, this figment of imagination when we are real. We all have flaws and we are all different so why try and change that? Why not celebrate our differences? I ask you to see your differences and embrace them. Embrace yourselves and embrace the differences of others around you because perfection is not real.

Guest Blog: The Pressure of Perfection

5 Feb

Hello! This is Lilipop and I would like to introduce our first ever guest blogger, Clara!

So hey! This is the first blog post I’ve pretty much EVER DONE so remember that as you read on. And thank you to Jelly and Lilipop for letting me ‘guest post’ on their brilliant blog.  

per·fect [adj., n. pur-fikt; v. per-fekt] adjective

conforming absolutely to the description or definition of an ideal type: a perfect sphere; a perfect gentleman.
excellent or complete beyond practical or theoretical improvement: There is no perfect legal code. The proportions of this temple are almost perfect.
exactly fitting the need in a certain situation or for a certain purpose: a perfect actor to play Mr. Micawber; a perfect saw for cutting out keyholes.
entirely without any flaws, defects, or shortcomings: a perfect apple; the perfect crime.
accurate, exact, or correct in every detail: a perfect copy.    

For most people it’s the greatest compliment: to achieve perfection is to be complete, to be everything people aspire to be, to be perfect is to the best you can be. But ‘perfection’ is entirely objective. Of course, society has its ideals of what it is to be perfect: beautiful, intelligent, skinny, not too hairy, organised, nice hair, popular, confident, kind, sporty (the list could go on), and yet of course ‘perfection’ is the most abstract idea society can create.  

Nobody’s perfect. And that saying, though cliched, cannot be more true.  

I suppose I’m writing this is because I have, on occasion, been called perfect. And in all honesty, I love it. I do. But I simultaneously hate it immensely.  Whenever I am called ‘perfect’ I must immediately prove I’m not- I’m terrible at sports, I hate my toes, I have a slight monobrow and I don’t think I smell very nice- the list goes on and on. My self esteem hangs in a precarious balance- it’s boosted when someone gives me a compliment, but lowered when I try to destroy that illusion by pointing out all my flaws. And whilst thats works most of the time, I just have to make sure I don’t let that balance control my life.  

I feel pressure from most people to be what they deem to be ‘perfect’. Everybody is ‘labelled’, and I know what my label is (and yes, as far as labels go I suppose mine is pretty good.) But it also means there is an expectation of what I should be like: If I make a mistake in school everybody points it out with glee; if I have a strong opinion on something people disagree with me, or worse, think I’m weird. I feel too scared to do something spontaneous, something dangerous and unexpected- because if I do the way I am perceived might change. My whole persona might be shattered, and the fragments I’ll be left with will plunge me into confusion. If I do something out of the ordinary, if I have something I am truly passionate about I might lose my ‘identity’, my ‘image’. I’m too scared to break out of this cage of simultaneous self-loathing and contentment.

In my I-hate-myself-poor-me-I’m-just-going-to-sit-here-and-cry moments I also feel that if I’m not deemed to be ‘perfect’ by people I am nothing. I’m not a particularly outgoing, fun, interesting person, so if people don’t see me as ‘perfect’ or ‘clever’ or ‘attractive’ I am worthless. This is the complete wrong attitude to have, and whilst I am aware of this I am also aware of the difficulty I will face my entire life- recognising that ‘perfection’ is not something that will ever define me.  

The whole idea of perfection annoys me. It drives people to insanity trying to be perfect. There is too much emphasis on perfection, when really it is the most objective ideal we can create. Everywhere we go we are surrounded by this idea of ‘perfection’: the ‘perfect’ celebrity on the cover of a magazine, the ‘perfect’ model on the catwalk, the ‘perfect’ person on their blog. Society’s idea of perfection does not allow for differences, quirks or eccentricity. I know I’m not perfect- nobody can be- but I know that I can strive for my own equivalent of perfection (a state at which I am perfectly content and feel that it is not worthwhile to toil and cry and sweat and compare in order to improve myself), and although I’ll never arrive, I can hope to get halfway. That’s all anyone can ask for I suppose.   I didn’t mean for this to turn into some sort of diary. But it has, and I hope somewhere in there there’s a deep meaningful message instead of a messy teenager spilling out her thoughts onto someone else’s blog.    

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