“A journey of a thousand blogs starts with the first one”
Since I started blogging I’ve become aware of so many sites that I could spend hours linking up to what other people are writing, and sometimes do. Well, not hours…but quite a while. I’ve listed my favourites here, in no particular order and would be grateful if you could share blogs you’ve come across that speak to you so we can share them.
It’s fascinating how women who write blogs often cover the same themes. Almost like an echo…
It’s called “Daughter of a Daughter” and it represents three generations of woman in various states of beach attire. The older woman is wearing a flowery summer dress – some kind of synthetic. The mother in her late twenties, early thirties is dressed in a bikini, and the little girl of about 7 or 8 is naked. The atmosphere is of completely harmony with each other and an acceptance that things are changing, but they are at ease with their choice of dress.
To me this little scene said as much about the people round about as it did about the three members of the family. Everyone else was involved in their own mini-beach drama and enjoying the glorious sunshine as well as the rare opportunity to swim in the sea which is usually too cold.
In spite of change, there is still a certain amount of judgment about how we appear. Though thankfully the rules have changed in my generation from the days 30 or 40 years ago when you wouldn’t be caught dead without a hat or white gloves if you went out, even in 100 deg. Fahrenheit in Sacramento. Things had changed enough then that bathing huts and non-revealing one piece bathing suits were a thing of the past and we became experts at changing on the beach under a towel.
All of this is part of the history of how women have viewed their bodies, or not viewed their bodies as the case may be. We can allow our children to run free on the beach, though we still have to keep a watchful eye on how other people respond to them. We can lament the fact that young girls are prey for paedophiles and other adults who would exploit their sexuality before they have a chance to experience it fully.
We have to learn to honour our own bodies for what they are, stretch marks and all and to honour the need that the older generation still feels a requirement to “cover up”. Nowadays I would be the “Granny on the Beach” and while I might not be as uninhibited as I was when I was younger, like wearing a bikini when I was pregnant on the beach at Whiting Bay, I certainly won’t be the one all covered up.
Thankfully the white gloves are a thing of the past and I’m more likely to have sparkly nail polish to match my somewhat modest bathing suit. But I won’t be swimming in the sea!
To read more about my art and textile work see: