5 reasons we’re all here for DUMPLIN’ (and why your inner Kween needs to watch it stat!!)

5 reasons we’re all here for DUMPLIN’ (and why your inner Kween needs to watch it stat!!)

Dumplin' (2018)

‘Dumplin’ is the plus-size, teenage daughter of a former beauty queen, who signs up for her mum’s pageant as a protest that escalates when other contestants follow her footsteps, revolutionizing the pageant and their small Texas town.’

5. The unexpected, celebrated but totally necessary new-kind of female lead.

Netflix and chill? More like Netflix and brill!! Ok, that didn’t quite work BUT… how fucking great is it that the last couple of teen-based movies to come out of Netflix (To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, Sara Burgess Is A Loser to name a few) have all had these incredible female lead characters of all these different shapes and sizes!? I die!

While watching Dumplin‘ my heart simply burst with joy and not to overplay the ‘bigger girl’ card but my lord, I wish there were these kinds of chick flicks around when I was younger; oh to have grown up in a world where healthy representations of women existed on the silver screen. I mean, the only storyline that was drummed into my pre-pubescent brain was ‘the guy notices the girl once she’s changed everything about her appearance’. Yawn! Gross!! So firstly, bravo Netflix and secondly, thank you.

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The role of Willowdean is played by the relatively unknown gem of an Aussie Danielle Mcdonald, who effortlessly brings this feisty, fabulous and fucking real character to life.

And spoiler alert: SHE GETS THE GUY IN THE END without changing a single god damn thing about her fine self. Yasss!

OR may I add, without the male lead (Luke Benward) tearing down another female character in the process. GOALS!

There are so many wonderfully relatable moments in this movie. One in particular involving Willowdean’s first kiss with dreamboat Bo and ahhhhh seriously, just kick me right in the feels why don’t you!!

4. Team Jen

Putting my Friends-obsessed self to the side for a minute, Dumplin’ is the Jennifer Aniston movie we never asked for but always needed. Jen totally shines in the part of Willowdean’s former beauty queen mother; serving all the sass but proving once again, that it’s impossible to dislike her, even if she’s occasionally playing an uptight mole!

Jen also is the Executive Producer of the movie and the driving force behind the ah-mazing Dolly Parton-themed movie soundtrack; even to the point of getting Dolly personally involved herself. Bless!!

But for those playing at home: if Rachel left Ross, moved to Texas and raised Emma on her own with Aunt Monica, THIS could also be the Friends movie we’ve all been frothing for as well. 😉

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3. Drag In The Kweens Pleeeeease! 

Gone are the days (thank god) when the popular girl in high school decides to give the misfit a makeover and all of the sudden everything is a-ok.

It’s now very clear that: Honeeeey, if you really want a proper ‘do over’ (starting with the inside out), send in the drag queens.  And who better than some of our Ru Paul favs. Riiiight?

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2. The feel good quotes to ONLY live your life by.

This movie covers all the big hard stuff: loss, death, betrayal, body image, loneliness, feminism (so have the tissues ready).

But if you take anything away from watching Dumplin’, it’s the quotes below:

“Go big, or go home.”

“If you want the rainbow, you have to put up with the rain.”

“Figure out who you are and do it on purpose.”

“It’s hard being a diamond, in a rhinestone world.”

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it!”

“I’m not the Joan of Arch of fat girls.”

“Join the revolution in heels.”

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1. Hello Dolly!

Must I go on? Yes, of course I should!

There is no doubt in my mind that the linchpin of this entire movie is the music of Dolly Parton. From Jolene to Here You Come Again (my personal fav), Dolly’s voice sets every scene on fire and gives it that little bit more tug of the heart strings.

The story of Dumplin’ matched with Dolly’s heart-wrenching lyrics, has had me streaming the ‘Dolly greats’ for over a week now: it’s like listening to her for the first time all over again. It really is a perfect pair!

So, do yourself a favour (😋) and watch this movie immediately and then download the soundtrack on Spotify straight after! This is the feel good movie of 2018. Yeeeha.

Guest Kween: FAYE LYONS-WHITE “The Best Day Of My Life Was Not (For A While) The Day My Daughter Was Born.”

Guest Kween: FAYE LYONS-WHITE “The Best Day Of My Life Was Not (For A While) The Day My Daughter Was Born.”

The best day of my life was not (for a while) the day my daughter was born.

Even seeing that written down gives me an immense feeling of guilt. I feel anxious writing this.

With time and perspective (and probably some minor memory loss) it has become the best day but for a while, it really was not.

Before I had Aifric, I was told that having a baby would be the best day of my life; better than my wedding day, better than the time I was 16 and saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers at the London Arena, better than the day I danced with Jeff Goldblum (husband Simon will be rolling his eyes here), even better than the day Ryan Gosling shook elbows with me (even more eye rolling, but that’s another story for another time).

Let’s not get confused with the best day of my life and the best thing that has ever happened in my life. Because Aifric is certainly that. She is the best thing that has ever happened to us and I am overwhelmed with the magnitude of love and pride I have for her.

But the day she was born was awful. She was 10 days late. Eventually after 9 days of waiting, I went into labour in the early hours of the morning and by all accounts, it started off well.

I was contracting every 3 minutes, all while still able to have conversations about what was trending on Twitter and Trump. Who wants to talk about him during labour? Hand up: this fool over here! I even had time to eat a lot of Party Rings. The phrase ‘she’s made for labour’ was even bandied about (which is weird in itself, does that mean some women aren’t?!).

Suddenly I wasn’t making any further progress, I couldn’t dilate past 7-8cm because the baby was sitting on part of my cervix. Cue syntocinon drip, and an epidural. Then all of a sudden: chaos.

The baby’s heart rate dropped without warning and didn’t recover. We had an emergency episiotomy and forceps delivery and I got a third degree tear, losing two litres of blood. I was immediately taken to theatre and spent the first two and a half hours of our baby’s life away from her.

Later, when the feeling came back to the lower half of my body, I was in immense pain. So who can call that the best day of their life? Please. No one would describe severe haemorrhaging as the best day of their life!

It has taken me some time to allow myself to breathe and appreciate that thought. Even now my memory is playing tricks on me: was that the best day of my life? Maybe it was.

I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine, we were swapping labour stories and I said that this ‘best day of your life’ stuff is just total rubbish. Aifric is the best thing to ever EVER happen to us and we cannot imagine life without her but the best day? It certainly was not!

The next day I sent this friend a follow-up message saying how guilty I felt. How much I felt I had let Aifric down by saying her birthday wasn’t the best day of my life and that really it was a great day because we got baby Aifric out of it. I wouldn’t want Aifric to ever think I resented any of it. Ever. Because of course, I don’t.

This lovely friend of mine replied. She told me that I hadn’t let Aifric down just because I didn’t enjoy the labour. That the labour was a reflection of my love and appreciation for her. A testament to my love for her; that I could go through all that and still think she’s the best thing I have ever done.

Thank you to that friend for helping me manage that funny guilt, one which I think is probably going to stick with me for a little while longer and may possibly change in its appearance, cloud my judgement and my memory: but it’s ok, I am ready for you!

And thank you to my friend for teaching me (us!) yet another lesson. To be a little kinder to ourselves, a little softer, in this totally and utterly crazy journey of parenthood.

Faye is a showbiz correspondent living in London with her husband Simon and 6 month old daughter Aifric. Life was all about the red carpets and interviews: now it’s Napisan and nipple shields.

Faye started blogging about life as a new mum on her site notsoshowbizmum. She very much enjoys an instastory, a good gin, netball and is pleased TayTay and KP have finally made up!

@posh_faye

Guest Kween: TONI LODGE “My Membership To The Dead Mums Club.”

Guest Kween: TONI LODGE “My Membership To The Dead Mums Club.”

“Hey Mumma, sorry I missed your calls, I just finished work, do you need me to grab something for dinner?”

“Toni, it’s Dad, I’m at the hospital with Mum – she’s not feeling well, they’re saying she’s had a stroke. I need you to go home and feed the dog and your sister is going to meet you there and you can drive here together.”

“Toni are you there???”

I went to the hospital with my twin sister (who, coincidentally, is actually 12 years my senior) and we arrived with a stuffed bear and all of my family in one little hospital room. There is no way I could forget the smell of that room, or the sticky feeling on my cheeks from crying in the car with Libby.

“What’s going on, what’s happening?” we rushed in and asked, grabbing Mum, all six of us, looking at each other.

“Um.. Mum didn’t have a stroke” my Dad said. “Fuck me, that’s amazing! Awesome! Well come on mum, let’s go home, why are we still here?!”, I said (tenderly). She looked at me, and my big brother gave me this shoulder squeeze that silenced me.

“I didn’t have a stroke”, she said, starting to shake and fight back tears, “I have a brain tumour.”

My whole world crashed. This perfect world I was living in where the only reason I could have a few missed calls from my Mum would be because ‘she needed something extra from Coles’ was gone.

I was in my first year of uni and feeling pretty damn invincible. After going to every WAAPA open day since I could understand what university was, I was there. I’d been accepted and I was on my way. I also had a job at Coles at nights and on the weekends, which gave me enough money to buy clothes, fuel, booze, and cigarettes to socially smoke (because that’s what you did at uni).

As soon as Mum got sick, that money changed to having just enough to buy fuel for my red Hyundai Getz to take me from the hills of Perth, to Mount Lawley, to Nedlands (where my Mum was in hospital), to Maddington (where I worked), and back to the hills. Paying for hospital parking and trying to look after myself as best I could to take any burden off my parents. (Definitely get private health insurance if you are reading this, it saved us.)

Eleven months later, she died. I had a Mum – this amazing Mum. Like, ah-maz-ing. And then I didn’t. Huh?

We got called into the hospital at around 3am on the 9th of September 2013 and she’d died. My Dad drove him and I, and we met my brother and his wife, my twin sister and her husband, and my other sister in the wee hours of the morning in the hospital car park to clean out her hospital room.

And then I just needed to prepare for my first funeral – my Mum’s.

I went with my sisters to buy a dress for this thing that we could barely believe had even happened yet. The shop assistant did the age old “Oh that’s pretty, what’s the occasion?!” and when I told her it was for my Mum’s funeral and she clocked all of our dreary faces she almost shat herself.

I wrote a eulogy and tried to fit my Mum’s amazing life into a couple of pages.

After that, so many people changed the way they spoke to me. Things like “I’m having the worst day, I missed the bus” or “I was late because I forgot to get fuel” or “My life is over this guy will NOT message me back” was always quickly followed by “Ohhhh Toni, I’m so sorry, you’ve just lost your Mum, this is nothing in comparison.” As much as this chubby girl with a brand new membership to the Dead Mums Club is horribly appreciative of the fact that my life seemed SO horrendous that it was the benchmark of shitness, everyone also has their shit too. Just because my shit is my mum being dead and your shit is that you were late for work, or a waiter said “Enjoy your food” and you said “Thanks, you too”, that’s okay! Your bad thing is your worst thing. We shouldn’t be on this planet to fight about who has it worse.

When I started at WAAPA I remember telling Mum that all I wanted to do was leave Perth and make something of myself. Then in 2016, I got my first job away from home (she’d been gone for a couple of years) and by this point, I was with my incredible boyfriend Alex, and we’d had been living away from home for a few months anyway. I moved a couple of hours south of Perth to pursue my career. I was finally doing it– making my Mum proud! Even though everything I’d done so far was coupled with her telling me she was so proud, it was the first big thing I had to do without her.

September rolled around and I spent the anniversary of her death away from my family. I dealt with problems at work, triumphs both professional and personal without her, and desperately wanted more than anything for her to be able to give me advice. Something I took comfort in was being able to imagine what she would say to me, or hoping one of my older siblings had gotten into the same mischief at some point and asking them what Mum said.

I made so many promises to my Mum as I grew up. I was the youngest child by a number of years which meant we spent a lot of time alone together. I told her all about my hopes and dreams, how I was going to have an amazing job that was going to move me around the world so she could come and visit whenever she wanted, how I would be famous (that one’s coming along really fucking well), and how I would be happy (workin’ on it. getting there).

But one thing is for certain: I took everything that happened to me on board and am now stronger and better for it. I am, of course, so heartbroken that my Mum is gone. In my moments of weakness where I miss her so much, I feel like I don’t know where my next breath of air is going to come from but somehow I always manage to inhale and exhale once more.

These days everything I engage in has a part of me that does it for her. Nothing changes your perspective and state of mind like recovering from loss, whatever the case may be.

Right before I jumped on the plane to my new Sydney life, I dropped in to visit my Mum. I cried. I wished she was here with me, then I realised she was, because there’s no way in hell I could have even thought about getting on that plane without her. Yep, for the second time, I was moving (across the country) to pursue my career. I am here for me, I’m here for my future, but she’s here too. And now here I am writing this for me and my fabulous Mum in my new fancy Sydney office instead of doing the job they hired me for (wait, is this being published somewhere?).

So my promise is to see the world with Mum in my handbag. To achieve everything I promised her I would because I’m fucking tough and I’m fucking strong. I am who I am because I knew my Mum, and also because I lost her.

Toni is a young 20-something year old trying to have it all. After the comedown of a brief brush with internet fame for having a Harry Potter event shut down due to it’s unfair under 15 age limit, she now spends her workday producing many National night radio shows for KIIS and iHeartRadio in Sydney.

@tonilodge

Guest Kween: JACQUI KASSULKE “My Life Is Wonderful But…”

Guest Kween: JACQUI KASSULKE “My Life Is Wonderful But…”

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A couple of weeks ago I turned 37. I am in the best shape of my life.

I am holding down a great media gig in the largest market in Australia. I’m being groomed for a future promotion.

I’m training to be a Barre instructor on the side.

I’m a sought-after voice over artist.

I own an investment property.

I have a great circle of friends. I’m never without something to do, or somewhere to go.

I’ve traveled the globe and lived all around Australia and had a stint in London.

I am attractive, fun, funny and someone people genuinely like being around (well I haven’t run a survey on that one, but that’s what my friends tell me).

If I want something, I go buy it. With my own hard-earned cash.

If I’m at dinner, I have the fucking dessert. I can cook. I drink whiskey. I have no problem arriving early at a bar and ordering a drink on my own.

I’m a daughter, sister, sister-in-law and Auntie three times over. I have had a great upbringing, and a supportive and loving family.

I’m simple, yet stylish. My credit card is always at zero, and I like getting the bus. I once dropped an entire tax cheque on a Chanel handbag.

I’m clever. I’m kind. I’m assertive. I believe that if you want something, ask for it.

I’m sensitive. I’m honest.

And I’m terrified of being alone forever.

Jacqui Kassulke is a radio Music Director & Presenter from Sydney, Australia which means she’s really awesome at pub trivia.

@Kassulke