Catholicism is bad for your knees

I have horrible knees. Really, really horrible knees. They’re fat, and flat (who has flat knees!?), and strangely misshapen. They’re pale, and pasty, and the skin is a strange texture. I blame bad genes and years of Catholicism.

These knees have not seen the light of day (or night) for a long, long time. And yet today, for the first time in 20 years, I am wearing a dress that allows them to be visible. To see and be seen by the world at large.

Why? Because I am making a concerted effort to do what makes me happy and not care about what other people think. To make peace with myself and the way I look. That, and the fact that I went shopping on one of my rare brave days and decided to buy the totally cute 60s inspired shift that I loved – even though I would ordinarily have left it behind because of the ‘knees on show’ issue.

So now I sit in my office too nervous to walk to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee lest people start pointing and laughing, or sneering and whispering behind their hands, or gasping and…. You get the idea. Because on an emotional level I totally believe that it could happen, even though my brain tells me that no-one cares about my knees.

I know that I should be/get over this. I am no longer a child and being filled with all of this teen-like angst and insecurity is no longer excusable. I should be doing mature and cathartic shit, like writing letters to 14 year old Me. Telling her that the insecurity that consumes her will pass. That she will outgrow it and find a deep level of acceptance, appreciation for her body and endless pools of self-esteem to draw on.

But that isn’t true because sometimes (read: often) I feel just like 14 year old Me, trapped in 32 year old Me’s body.

Today is one of those days.

But at least I’m trying, and putting the knees of horror on display. That’s progress, isn’t it? I may even work up the courage to get a cup of coffee later.

*Edited to add: I have been struck by a new wave of confidence and am thinking:

F*ck Flattering. Wear what makes you happy.

Let’s see how long it lasts…

 

 

 

Make-over photos have arrived!

They’re finally here! After a fairly long wait, the before and after pics of my Fair Lady make-over have finally arrived. I’m pretty excited to share them with you, even though I don’t really think that the after pic looks anything like me

There was another look and hair-style created, which I’m quite keen to see, but I haven’t received a copy yet. I’ll share it as soon as I do, though.

So with no further ado, I present to you:

BEFORE

And:

AFTER

 

And:

AFTER 2

The Fair Lady Magazine Make-over of Awesomeness!

A while ago a friend sent me an email saying that Fair Lady Magazine was looking for women to participate in a make-over (thanks Kirst!). I entered, not expecting to be chosen because, well, I’m never lucky enough to be chosen for this sort of stuff. So imagine my surprise when I Was in fact selected.

What followed was a number of emails from the Fair Lady editorial team requesting everything from my dress, shoe and shirt size to photographs of hair styles that I really disliked. That and infinite amounts of excitement on my part. I told anyone who would listen that I was about to have an adventure – and a few that wouldn’t – but even their glassy eyes weren’t enough to discourage me because I was getting a make-over baby!

As the day of the make-over drew nearer, I found myself filled with just as much trepidation as excitement. What if they totally messed up my hair (which I have been trying to grow) by cutting it uber short, making me look like a complete freak show. What if they wanted to dye it purple? Or even worse, black? What if they put me in horrible granny clothes? Or stuck pink and blue make-up on me? *Shudder*

But the nerves didn’t stop there. I will be the first to admit that I sometimes (read: often) have self esteem issues. Being on the larger side of chunky is not an easy thing to be, in a world obsessed with the skinny and svelte. So I’m not ashamed to admit that I was a more than a little afraid of not fitting in with the ‘fashion industry types’, of them not finding clothes that fit me, of being judged and (most of all) of looking awful in the photographs. There are no words to describe how afraid I was of the photographer. After all, this was likely to be a guy who spent his days looking at the likes of Candice Swanepoel in itty bitty non-clothes. And I was likely to look like a bizarre (if well made up) heffalump-crazy cat hybrid. I began to think that this might have been a mistake after all. How could I, with my frizzy hair, generous (cough) hips and round face, hope to look like I belonged at a magazine photo shoot.

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. In fact, quite the opposite. The make-over turned out to be one of the most life-affirming – not to mention Fun (yes, with a capitol F) things that I have ever done. It was awesome! Which I suppose I should have expected because really, what could be better than spending an entire day in a salon while people fuss over you, making sure that you look your absolute best. Nothing, that’s what!

Apart from being treated like a celebrity for a day, one of the most amazing things about the day was how positive and supportive everyone was. The editorial team and make-up artist consisted of a group of warm, funny and amazing women. The photographer was an absolute honey. The make-up artist was a genius who even managed to make my non-existent eyebrows look good. The hair stylists at Tanaz Hair, Body and Nails were out of this world. My face shape and lifestyle were analysed and taken into consideration at every step and the colourist was an artist.

Every time I saw someone involved in the shoot, I was greeted with exclamations of delight and comments about how gorgeous I looked. I’m not sure if this is standard operating procedure when conducting a make-over photo shoot and to be honest I don’t really care, because I left the salon that feeling like a billion bucks.

Now, those of you who have read this blog before will know that the only thing I love more than a good long list is an opportunity to learn something. Luckily, the make-over left me filled to the brim with good ideas and useful tips. So what follows is the long list of what I learnt from an incredible bunch of people.

What I learn from the hairstylists:

• If you have a round face, you should never have a middle parting because it will just leave you looking even more moon-faced than you are. This is something that I have carried through in my everyday life and I have to say, it really works. Side partings for the win!
• It’s all in the cut. Seriously, a good hair cut can completely change the way you feel about your hair – not to mention the way you look.
• If you use the right products you too can have model worthy hair.
• Don’t go more than two shades lighter or darker than your natural hair colour. If you do, expect to look washed out and to have your colour turn ‘brassy’. I have to mention here that I adore my new colour, which is essentially a warmer version of my natural colour with a few lowlights. Or highlights. I can never be sure of which is which.
• Even dry, unruly and frizzy curly hair can look awesome if you spend some time on it and invest in the right products.
• The R5 Rule: Never spend a R5 coin. Don’t give it to the car guard, newspaper seller, your kid or your husband. Keep it. And every month (or three months, or whatever works for you) gather your R5 coins together and spend them on yourself. (If you’re like me, you might want to take your stack of coins to a bank and get them exchanged for notes. For some reason I have a horror of spending huge piles of coins…)
• Figure out what you can spend on your hair on a monthly basis and use this to come up with an annual hair budget. Then go into your salon (where you hopefully have an awesome stylist) and discuss with them the best way to allocate your funds. Will you come in once a month for a trim and colour touch up, or every three months for a cut, colour and some products? Let your stylist advise you, since they know their business better than you do. I really think that this, coupled with the R5 Rule, is one of the best ideas I’ve ever heard.

What I learned from the make-up artists:

• Gel eyeliner just doesn’t budge and allows you to apply a precise line of exactly the right thickness.
• Even the experts use Mac (confirming a long-held suspicion of mine that Mac is the Bomb! (Unrelated to what I learnt at the shoot, keep an eye out for their new range of Wonder Woman products – awesome packaging plus really cool colours. Win!)
• Khaki and deep purple eye shadow makes for a great smoky eyed look. Despite sounding atrocious.
• For those of you who, like me, feel like a painted tart when you’re wearing anything more than a slick of eye shadow and some lip gloss: If it feels like you could scrape your name in your make-up, it’s probably just enough for a photo shoot.
• Blush really, really works. It defines our cheek bones and makes your face look thinner.
• Dewy beats the hell out of matte for skin. If you think about this, it makes total sense. Because no one’s skin naturally looks like matte powder. Not even grandmothers can pull of that look.
• The reason models have that ‘heroin chic’ look is because the hard core eye make-up that is used on photo shoots is Impossible to wash off. I washed my face about three times when I got home, once when I showered in the evening and once in the morning. I still went to work with eyeliner on; which, admittedly, made me look better.
• Eyeliner is your friend. It really makes your eyes ‘pop’. (But in a good way. Not in the B-grade horror movie way.)

What I learnt from the editorial team and clothing stylists:

• Accessorise, but keep it simple and understated. If you’re wearing a bold necklace, downplay the earrings. If your shirt has a lot of detailing, don’t wear a bold necklace. You don’t want to look like a Christmas tree on steroids.
• Try things on in a variety of sizes, even if you think you’re a large, a medium might look better. This has the added advantage of making you feel a lot better.
• The right earrings can make an outfit.
• Wearing heels not only makes you look taller, it improves your posture and makes you look and feel sexier. Just make sure they’re comfortable – which is easy if you spend a bit more and invest in good quality.

What I learned from the photographer (these are priceless tips because they really, truly work):

• Lean into the camera just a little, as if you’re about to speak to someone. This elongates the neck.
• Tilt your head slightly. I don’t know why this works, but it does.
• Don’t face the camera, turn slightly to the side. This makes you look thinner.
• Relax your shoulders. Again, I have no idea why this works, but it does. And the photographer seemed pretty insistent about it, so I guess it’s important.
• Sometimes a well placed but subtle pout can look awesome – pretend you’re drinking from a straw. (This is my tip, developed as a teen trying to look sultry. I’ve always felt that it looked too stupid to try in real life, but somehow it worked. Although I suspect that this is only true when you’re at a professional photo shoot with a photographer who knows what he’s doing.)
• ‘Pop’ one hip. In other words, stick one hip out as you balance your weight on the other foot. This is in no way a comfortable position, but it looks good.
• A fan gently blowing your hair back makes you look about 50 times hotter. If you can’t afford to hire someone to do this for you, make a plan because it makes a world of difference. I plan to train my three year old to carry a hand-held fan and then walk along in front of me (walking backwards, of course) to recreate this look. It may lead to years of therapy for him, but I think it may be worth it.
• It’s all about comfort. Once you’re happy, relaxed and comfortable, you will look beautiful.
• Photographers, especially the charming ones, are really hot. (I’m hoping my husband doesn’t read this.)

What I learned about being a model:

• It really isn’t as easy as it is looks. Being pulled, prodded and fussed over All Day can get a little old after a while. I can’t imagine how true this must be when you do it all day, several times a week for years. No wonder models look so miserable most of the time.
• It’s hot, hot work. Magazines work at least three months in advance for editorial and about four months in advance for this type of feature. So even though it was about 30 degrees outside, we were wearing winter clothes as the make-over will appear in the August issue of the magazine. And the lights are not exactly cool either. Plus, the blocked off all the windows (presumably for lighting purposes). Thank God for that fan. Maybe that’s why it made me look better – because it prevented me from melting into a decidedly unattractive puddle on the floor.
• You won’t be fed till after the shoot. I guess that’s why so many models look miserable. And how they stay thin. By the end of the day I was ready to eat my arm.

Thus ends the epic 2 000 word tale of my make-over experience and what it feels like to be a magazine model. I’ll be sure to upload a pic as soon as I am able. Keep an eye out for the August issue of Fair Lady and/or the website to see the results!

I must end off by saying thank you to Shereen, Kerese, Shelene, Pepper and Justin. You guys were Fantastic! Thank you for making the day such a blast.

Can big girls be beautiful?

A recent Twitter conversation got me thinking about the impact of how we, as a society, judge people based on how they look. If you’re ‘too thin’ the thinking seems to be that you’re shallow and overly concerned with how you look, emotionally damaged and anorexic, and something of a control freak. If you’re ‘too fat’ you’re clearly lazy and undisciplined, emotionally damaged and a comfort eater, and have no control to speak of.

While I’m willing to concede that this type of prejudice is just as hard for skinny girls to deal with as it is for those of us who tip the other end of the scale, I find it hard to believe that the ‘too thin’ crowd is forced to deal with the same sort of all-embracing limitations as big girls.

For big girls, it isn’t just a matter of being judged for our size. We are also forced to look unfashionable and like our clothes were made for geriatric elephants. Apparently it is impossible for bigger women to look sexy, so why bother making anything that would make them feel it.

As a larger women in South Africa, you can pretty much forget about finding anything fashionable in your size. It doesn’t really matter how much you’re willing to pay. In fact, the more expensive and exclusive the boutique, the more likely they are to only stock things for women who look like clothes hangers. And we’re talking wire hangers here, not the good and chunky wooden kind.

While YDE may stock a fabulous selection of hot and trendy pieces by equally hot and trendy local designers, know that this store is not for you if you wear anything bigger than a size 12. Since very very few of the local boutiques or designers* will stock your size, you will be forced to shop in places like Woolworths (but not the designer ranges). Here you will find things in which your grandmother would feel frumpy and staid. Expect shapeless dresses and shirts, gathered everything and elastic in places that elastic just shouldn’t be. Now and then you will find flat-fronted pants in a cut that doesn’t turn your thighs into sausages. However, they will gape so badly at the waist that everyone will be able to see your plus-size knickers. (More on that later.)

If you have read a single fashion magazine or watched a single TV show about looking your best, you know that everyone from Oprah to Gok Wan will tell you that your underwear is the most important part of your outfit. Unfortunately, if you’re on the larger end of the market in South Africa, you will find it close to impossible to find attractive, comfortable underwear of good quality at a reasonable price. If you’d like your undergarments to be beautiful as well as functional, you may as well start a savings fund simply to be able to buy a few good pieces every few years. If you’re lucky. Otherwise, be prepared for underwear that has the sex appeal of a large beige military tent.

Do not look for lace or silk underwear that fits well. It is hopeless. Apparently, large woman only want to wear ugly ‘shaper’ knickers in shiny synthetic beige and black fabrics. Never fear though – you’ll definitely be able to find an ugly firm-support bra to match. (Perhaps the assumption is that this is all we Should wear: things that try to make us look thinner. Who cares if we’re hellishly uncomfortable?)

If you’re willing to shell out R300 and upwards for a pretty bra, you might (and I say Might) be able to find something at one of the underwear chain stores like La Senza. I don’t even know whether the seriously expensive boutiques stock larger sizes because I can’t afford to spend R1000 on a bra and prefer to avoid torturing myself by browsing beautiful things that I can’t have.

To add even more insult to injury, it would seem that all South African stores believe that if you’re large, you must be tall. Apparently, the existence of a short and heavy person is inconceivable. If, like me, you are under 2 metres tall and wear something larger than a size 10, prepare to spend a lot of money getting alterations made to everything from skirts and dresses to pants. I have bought many a pair of pants that have had to have 20 centimetres chopped off at the hem. Go into a Levi store and try to get a 38 waist, with a 30 length. I challenge you. While you’re in there, try to get a pair of jeans in a size 40. No can do. Unless you want to wear something from the ‘Eva’ range, which consists of about 4 styles that all look the same and for some inexplicable reason have shiny embroidery all over the back pockets. Because if you’re a big size with a big bum, you really want to draw attention to it. Obviously.

Even shirts will be made infinitely longer as the size goes up. This means that all shaping that is meant to happen around the waist will sit somewhere around your hips. This is a lovely look. My suggestion is to invest in lots of belts. However, if you want a wide belt that clasps instead of buckles, be prepared to give up on the dream or wear one that cuts off circulation to the lower half of your body and creates a delightful muffin-top effect.

If you don’t believe me and think that shopping for larger sizes in South Africa is anything other than an exercise in futility and frustration; go into a store – any store will do, but those that stock designer labels (imports are the worst) are particular winners – and have a look at the available sizes. You will find plenty in the super-small to large range. If you’re lucky you’ll find a few things in an extra-large. If you want anything bigger than that you’re screwed.

I just don’t understand this. Do South African stores get sent the tiny sizes that don’t sell elsewhere? Surely there are people in other countries wearing Diesel and Benetton** who are bigger than a size 10? Surely?! Or are local buyers stupid enough to think that only thin chicks want to wear designer togs/have cash/care about how they look?

Now I know what many of you are going to say – anyone with dedication and commitment can diet and spend hours at the gym, whittling themselves down to an acceptable size.

But what if I don’t want to.

Maybe, just maybe, I am comfortable with being a big women. Maybe I don’t think that my worth, beauty, sexiness or ability to look fashionable should be linked to the size on the back of my pants. Maybe I don’t want it to be 10 times harder for me to look good than it is for thin people.

I want to buy clothes that fit – and fit well. I want to buy clothes that make me feel sexy and attractive. I want shopping to be easy. Most of all, I want to stop being forced to shop in shitty stores where I am treated like a second class citizen just because I want something bigger than a size 12.

* My apologies to Amanda Laird Cherry and Stoned Cherry. Two of the few SA labels that make bigger sizes and – more importantly – cuts that suit larger figures.

** Diesel and Benetton are at the top of my shit list when it comes to importing a variety of sizes. Benetton doesn’t stock anything bigger than a large. And their large is a normal person’s Barbie Doll. And I am yet to find anything bigger than a size 10 in a Diesel store.

Of beach holidays and insect bites

I’m a firm believer that one should learn something from every experience. Sometimes this happens to me, sometimes it doesn’t. This holiday seemed to be particularly educational.

First, the basic info.

Holiday duration: One week.

Holiday spot: Sheffield Beach, KZN North Coast.

Holiday party: Husband, son and assorted extended family members.

Here’s what I learnt:

1. If you visit KwaZulu Natal, you will be bitten by mutant bugs hyped up on sugar cane and Durban poison. These bites will turn into gigantic red bumps and will be impossible to cover up with even the most hard-core concealer and foundation. If you are me, you will be bitten on the face. More than once.
2. Always take more than one swimming costume because trying to get your sweat-dampened flab into a wet one-piece just sucks. Its like trying to pull your knickers on while coated in glue.
3. If you have lived in Gauteng for more than 10 years, you are officially a Vaalie. Do not try to fight this. Embrace it and you may end your holiday unscathed by traditional Vaalie afflictions. See point 4.
4. The fashion/beauty magazines really are right. Everyone, regardless of skin tone, should wear sunblock. Living in Durban for the first 18 years of my life and being of a naturally tanned skin tone, I had never really had to worry about this before. Prior to this holiday, I could count the number of times that I had been sun-burnt on one hand. And those instances involved either Vaseline or cooking oil. (What can I say, I was a particularly stupid teenager.) This January, however, I managed to pick up an incredibly fetching sunglasses, t-shirt and dress burn. Oh the horror! Especially when coupled with the giant mutant bug bites.
5. No matter how hard you try, you cannot resist Aunty Merle’s chocolate chip cookies. Or the chocolatey goodness of Canadian Peppermint Bark.
6. If you are lucky enough to have a house right on the beach, beware of tiled floors. Sea spray and humidity will ensure that they are always wet. This makes them very slippery. My bruised coccyx proves it.
7. Hangovers are worse when you’re on holiday and your family expects you to be awake, fed and on the beach by 9am.
8. If you don’t move your flip flops into the shade of the beach umbrella you will give the soles of your feet 3^rd degree burns. Similarly, if you don’t wear shoes to the beach. Even if you leave by 11am.
9. Eating a sand-coated nectarine is very unpleasant. Even three-year-olds recognise this. You will therefore be stuck with your own sandy nectarine, as well as your son’s.
10. Nothing on earth beats the sound of your child’s screams of laughter as he tries to outrun waves. This is pure joy.
11. I really don’t like swimming in the sea. It’s hard work. The push and pull of the waves, trying to remain upright – it’s all a bit of a mission really. So is having to deal with the sand in Everything afterwards. Much better to lounge in the pool on a pool noodle.
12. Sometimes, as a mother, you just have to get over yourself and stop being paranoid.
13. Chasing your son along the beach might leave you looking like an idiot, but it sure is fun. And it will make you happy.
14. Watching a line of grown people standing in the sea, staring at the breakers and jumping at each wave is pretty hysterical. Especially if you’ve had a few white wine spritzers. It’s like some sort of badly choreographed line dance. Somehow, kids avoid looking ridiculous by actually playing in the waves. Adults just stand there trying to look cool and end up looking idiotic.
15. Get over your body issues, because no-one is watching. Unless you’re part of the Wave-Induced Line Dance. Then they’re pointing and laughing. But not at how your butt looks in that bikini.
16. There will always be at least one fisherman. He will catch something big and scary (like, say, a hammerhead shark or ray) and then release it into the shallows to make things more exciting for the line of wave jumpers.

Growing up at the coast, many beach life-lessons were imparted years ago. I just happened to be reminded of them while on this holiday. So here’s what I remembered while on holiday:

1. Beer tastes better when you’re at the beach.
2. Building sand castles is really fun. Those little buckets and spades are awesome.
3. Watermelons just taste better in KZN.
4. It will be cloudy and rainy half of the time, but warm. This leaves you grumpy and sweaty. You will wish that the sun would come out. Then it will and you will realise your folly as you weep for your tender sunburnt skin. This too will leave you grumpy and sweaty.
5. KZN mosquitoes are impervious to all types of insect repellent. They love that shit.
6. It will be so hot that in order to sleep you will need a fan on in your room. This will give you a sore throat every morning. Every evening you will try to do without said fan and within 20 minutes decide that the sore throat is worth it.
7. It is useless to wear any type of make-up because by early afternoon it will have slipped to the general vicinity of your jowls.
8. Your sunglasses will always slip down your nose because you’re so sweaty.
9. Showering is useless because you will be sticky within minutes. Better to let the salt of the ocean form a dehydrating crust on your skin.

As with any holiday, one of the best parts of it will be returning home. This too can be an opportunity for learning.

Things I learnt upon my return:

1. If you don’t have a house-sitter and the power trips, things may get ugly.
2. The garden looks better after being untended for a week. So maybe I should stop loving it quite so much.
3. You should always make the bed and change the linen Before you leave. Coming back to an unmade bed is no fun at all.
4. You will slip right back into your regular habits and then feel faintly depressed at how routine your life really is.
5. Nothing beats showering in your own shower and sleeping in your own bed, on your own pillow.
6. Flying makes me constipated.

And that pretty much sums up my educational experiences so far this year, so there’s nothing left to do but wish you all a wonderful 2011!

PS: I’m a glutton for feedback, so leave a comment and make me happy.

Of Weight Loss and Baggy Pants

You’d think that losing 8 kilograms and dropping a dress size would leave you feeling amazing – confident, happy and sexy. But no. I have become convinced that only the rich feel this way when they lose weight.

This is because unless you are rich (or at least have a fair amount of expendable cash) and not, for example, a stay-at-home mother who relies on her husband to support the family; you cannot afford to replace the clothes that no longer fit you.

So the situation for the unemployed Mom looks something like this: You diet, consistently denying yourself the things that other people seem to take for granted. Like pasta. And bread. And peanut butter.

You quite literally work your ass off – trekking off to the gym at least 3 times a week; spending a minimum of 6 hours a week in unflattering fluorescent lighting surrounded by the smell of sweat while your ears are assaulted by the vocal styling of Katy Perry.

Finally, after weeks of self-denial, self-discipline and other difficult things starting with ‘self’; you lose weight. You drop a dress size. You feel great. Proud. On top of the world. You’re really pleased when you realise that your clothes are too big. Your jeans start slipping down and exposing your butt crack, but instead of feeling self-conscious you tell the world about it. This feeling lasts for a few weeks if you’re lucky.

Then something happens that makes you a little sad. You can’t afford to replace the wardrobe that you spent a a fair amount of time building. So you go out and buy the one or two items that you can afford, putting you back on the weight loss high for a little while longer. A few weeks later, because you’re so committed to the journey to good health and a svelte physique, you’ve lost more weight. And the new clothes no longer fit.

It is at this point that things start to get a little ugly and more than a little depressing. You realise that when your clothes are too big, they’re Unflattering. Yes, with a capital U. Your favourite outfit bags and sags in unfortunate places. You’ve always known that a decent pair of jeans that fit well can do wonders for one’s body image (and bum). Unfortunately, the Levis that you spent all that money on now look as though you’re walking around with a poo in your pants. You also realise that you can’t afford any new clothes to match the new body you’re working so hard to achieve.

If, like me, you have a lot to lose you also realise that you’re not even half way to your goal weight. So even if the cash for new not-so-designer duds fell from the heavens, you’d just need to replace them in a few weeks/months and be back at square one.

So instead of looking and feeling great, you’re walking around with poo-esque pants, a bra that offers no support because its just too big (and lets face it, you need after all that breastfeeding) and (because its summer in sunny South Africa) a sleeveless t-shirt that gapes so much under the arms that you can practically see your navel. This does not leaving you feeling as though all of the hard work is worth it. In fact, all you feel is a little depressed and dissatisfied. And to make matters worse, no one understands. They all think that you should be ecstatic because, “OMG! You’ve, like, totally lost so much weight!” And you are. The thing is, though, that a large part of wanting to lose weight is wanting to look better. And you just can’t feel like you look better when you’re rocking the navel gazing baggy bra MCHammer poo pants look. And that makes it really, really hard to stay motivated and positive. And so you start buying fruit mince pies by the dozen, even though you’re supposed to be on the beach in 4 weeks.

If you know what this feels like, please tell me how you managed to overcome it. Because if things don’t get better soon, I’m probably not going to need those new clothes after all…

(And no, winning the lottery and splurging on a new wardrobe is not an option. Or rather, its statistically unlikely.)