Latest news with #Suzanne
Daily Mirror
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
'Entitled' woman wants to approve name for her grandchild but there's one problem
When it comes to baby names, loved ones often shared their opinions with expecting parents - even if unwanted. One grandma-to-be insists has given an expecting couple a list of 'approved' names A woman has shared their fury as their aunt and come up with a strict baby name list for her grandchild - and will give it to the parents-to-be. Choosing a name for your newborn is one of the most significant decisions new parents will make. Some have known from a young age what names they want to use, while others spend years thinking about it. Some prefer traditional names, while others are inspired by their favourite celebrities or characters, and some desire their child's name to be the only one of its kind heard in the playground. What is for sure, is that everyone has different name likes and dislikes, and expecting parents are bound to receive unsolicited opinions. But one family member is upset by the way her aunt has acted as her cousin and his wife as expecting a baby girl soon. She is fed up of her interfering with their choice of baby name. Anonymously, she explained in a Reddit threat recently what has happened. She said her aunt has been acting "so ridiculous and entitled". She said her cousin and his wife want to name their baby Summer, however at the expecting mother's baby shower she overheard that the aunt will be sending her son - the baby's father - a list of names "approved by her." But there's a problem - the baby's grandmother only likes "traditional" and "pretentious" names. The annoyed cousin of the dad-to-be said: "Her kids all have very traditional WASP-y names (think Suzanne, Richard etc) so there is currently a secret betting pool among me, my mother and other aunt as to how vanilla and bland - or pretentious - the name will be, and whether or not her own name will be on the list." She noted that other family members have even been putting bets on. "Oh, we're going to need to see this list once you get your hands on a copy!," commented one. Another noted: "Luckily, unless auntie has custody of the child, her list will probably be unenforceable." One shared what they would do in this scenario, and said: "I'd read the list just to make sure I would not accidentally choose any of the names on the list." One suggested the couple should keep the peace, but ultimately choose a name they want. They suggested: "Well, that's nice. She can have a list. She can send it to him. He and his wife can thank her for the suggestions and disregard them." One individual who can relate to this scenario, commented and said: "My sister gave me a list of names I was not allowed to use for my daughter's middle name. She tried to add the name Quinn to said list when our Grandma expressed how much she liked that name." She added: "She was calling dibs on a bunch of girl names because she has her own issues and felt a need to control something. My pregnancy wasn't planned as I was really early 20s and not in a relationship with my daughter's father so I was already dealing with stress from my parents. I didn't fight when she initially made that list which was your more traditional names of Elizabeth, Grace, Marie, etc." One pointed out: "I understand wanting to talk and discuss names for your grandchild, but, it should be in a nice way, not in a 'this is my list of approved names'."
Metro
14-07-2025
- Health
- Metro
Size 8 women are calling themselves fat in a 'disturbing hierarchy' of slimness
'Oh, I'm skinny fat.' The realisation hit me like a slap in the face, but it's not that I think I'm overweight, I know I'm perfectly healthy. It's because a girl who had exactly my body type posted a 'before and after' TikTok of her going from slim to toned, and my body was her 'before'. She still looked great in the 'before', and by great I mean totally and completely normal. Her tummy just folded over her jeans a little as she slouched, as mine does, too. The after shot shows her with very little visble body fat. I headed to the comments expecting to see people telling her she already looked amazing and didn't need to lose that weight, but that wasn't what greeted me. A girl had written: 'I need this bc I'm like skinny fat.' And it had close to 11,000 likes. Society has decided being slim is no longer good enough, now we have to be lean and toned like an athlete or model. I'd always had the luxury of being born with a body that social media deems 'acceptable' – until now. The widespread use of Ozempic and other weight loss jabs has 'reset the visual benchmark' for what is considered 'skinny', says Dr Suzanne Wylie, GP and medical adviser for IQdoctor. 'It has created a disturbing hierarchy, where even naturally slim individuals feel they must go to further extremes to maintain their status or avoid criticism,' she tells Metro. 'Skinny fat' isn't a new term – historically, it's been used to describe a body type where individuals have a higher portion of visceral fat around their organs, depsite a 'healthy' BMI range. But let's be clear: this latest iteration of the phrase is about aesthetics, not health. Whereas five or six years ago the body positivity movement made it taboo to post this kind of content, it feels somehow socially acceptable again. And though TikTok has banned various hashtags associated with 'skinnytok', the algorithm has served me video after video of how to get rid of my 'skinny fat'. I know it's toxic and unnecessary, so why do I feel the need to do so? 'I'm increasingly concerned about the impact of social media trends on young people's perceptions of health and body image,' Dr Suzanne tells me. 'The idea that someone who is a size six or eight and not visibly toned might consider themselves fat, speaks to a deepening misunderstanding of body composition, health, and self-worth.' She adds that terms like 'skinny fat' reflect a shift in what we deem healthy or desirable, and having zero fat on your body isn't good for you. 'Having some body fat is not only normal, it is essential,' Dr Suzanne explains. 'Fat plays a critical role in hormone production and immune function. 'Maintaining a healthy level of body fat is vital for menstrual function and fertility. So striving for an extremely low body fat percentage, in pursuit of muscle definition, can actually be detrimental to long-term health.' The bottom line is that being toned doesn't necessarily equate to being healthy, especially if you're going to try and achieve it by restricting food or exercising excessively. 'I regularly see young women with perfectly healthy BMIs and good cardiovascular fitness who nonetheless feel inadequate because they don't match an airbrushed or filtered online ideal,' Dr Suzanne says. 'The pressure to be lean, rather than just slim, is intensifying.' Serena Novelli, body confidence coach and founder of Love Thy Body, agrees, saying: 'This trend masks that tone has as much to do with muscle as it does with shape, and muscle needs strength, not shame, to grow.' Disturbingly, Dr Suzanne says she's seen an uptick in young women who come to her deeply unhappy with their appearance, despite being fit and healthy. 'It's worrying, because this can quickly spiral into more serious conditions such as anorexia nervosa or bulimia – especially when combined with perfectionist personality traits or low self-esteem.' @marie_xoxo_ Its a vibe 😌 #fyp ♬ original sound – songs n lyrics Serena wants to reiterate that 'bodies are not trends, they're homes' – a mantra more important than ever in an era increasingly defined by filters, AI and weight loss jabs. More Trending 'That little fold of skin when we bend? It's human. It's normal,' she says. 'Women have been conditioned to critique themselves endlessly, but we need less comparison and more compassion. View More » 'Instead of chasing another standard, let's come home to our bodies, soft, strong, ever-changing and worthy as they are.' Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: Feminist hero Gisele Pelicot receives France's highest civilian honour MORE: I'm a millennial – please stop sending me perimenopause memes MORE: Until I had one, I was ignorant about the reality of miscarriages Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.
Metro
12-07-2025
- Metro
The terrifying case of the 'crossbow cannibal' who idolised Peter Sutcliffe
When Stephen Griffiths was asked to state his name in court, his chilling reply was: 'the crossbow cannibal'. One of Britain's most horrific killers, he didn't show remorse, instead, Griffiths exuded pride as he was charged with the murders of three women. The only thing the killer showed frustration about was that his spree had come to an end. It was a brave young woman called Suzanne Blamires and an unnamed caretaker who finally set the wheels in motion to put an end to his dark crimes, that needlessly cost Susan Rushworth, 43, Shelley Armitage, 31, and Suzanne, 36, their lives between June 2009 and May 2010. The caretaker usually started his working week by reviewing CCTV footage taken over the weekend at aconverted Victorian textile factory on Thornton Road in Bradford, where Griffiths lived in a top-floor flat. On May 24, the routine task threw up footage of Griffiths, armed with a black crossbow, dragging Suzanne along the corridor and through his front door. She had tried to escape from his home by quickly running away, but tragically, the killer caught up with her. When the video was first viewed, three days had already passed. The caretaker handed the information to the police, who hoped Suzanne would still be alive. Damian Sharp, West Yorkshire Police's firearms tactical advisor, was instructed to plan and execute the raid to arrest Griffiths. 'As far as I was concerned, I was dealing with a hostage situation because I had no other information to say that she wasn't alive at that time,' he tells Metro. It was decided that a team of six officers would barge through Griffith's door using force. The plan was to overwhelm him, so he froze and fell rather than fight, and no further harm would come to his victim. To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video 'He was in bed, and immediately upon their entering the room, he put his hands up,' recalls Damian. 'He was quite humble at first, but after the handcuffs went on, he started getting nasty, bragging about the things he'd done.' The officers discovered that Griffiths had been luring sex workers back to his home. There, he would kill and dismember the women before eating their body parts. Recalling what was found in his flat, Damian says: 'It smelled of burnt flesh and there was evidence in the bathtub. 'The officers had been in a lot of not-very-nice houses, but they said this one made their skin crawl and left them feeling uneasy. 'As far as the actual arrest was concerned, it went fairly smoothly, but it's all sad for the victims. My sister went to school with Shelley — she was lovely, but trusted the wrong person.' Shelley's mother, Gill, said that her daughter was 'very much loved' and would be 'sadly missed' by her loved ones. After Griffiths' conviction, in which he was jailed for life, Suzanne's mother, Nicky, also bravely spoke, saying that 'quite simply, no family deserves what we have gone through. All of these girls were people's daughters and much-loved human beings.' At her daughter's funeral, she said Suzanne, who undertook nursing training, was 'a bright and articulate girl who took the wrong path'. Christine Thompson, the mother of Susan, told The Sun that her daughter was receiving treatment for addiction before her death. 'I don't know how I will cope without her. She was my best friend and like a sister to me,' she said. Behavioural scientist Dr Nicola Davies, an expert in criminal profiling, says Griffiths' case is 'the most horrific' that's crossed her desk. 'It's horrible to say, and it makes you shiver, but Stephen was very much hunting sex workers like animals, and the Bradford red light district was his hunting ground,' she tells Metro. 'He would cannibalise them because he wanted to own the victims. There definitely would have been more murders if he hadn't been caught.' Although the remains of Suzanne and Shelley were found, Susan's body is still missing and Griffiths still refuses to reveal where she is. 'He wants to remain the centre of the story, even in his silence,' says Dr Davies. 'I don't think he'll ever have any signs of remorse, because he just hasn't got that in him.' Following his arrest, Griffiths claimed that there were more victims, but again, refused to give any specific information. 'I've killed loads,' he proudly declared. However, Dr Davies believes that he lied about any additional murders because he was disappointed to be caught before doing everything he wanted to do. Griffiths, who studied criminology and was researching a PhD entitled Homicide In An Industrial City at the time of arrest, idolised serial killers, his greatest influence being Peter Sutcliffe, who murdered thirteen women and attempted to kill seven more between 1975 and 1980. Known as the Yorkshire Ripper, his crimes filled the news when Griffiths was growing up in the area. 'He would have witnessed the fear people felt and the media obsession that surrounded Sutcliffe, which would have likely helped shape his early ideas of power. He wanted to be like Pete and also outdo him,' says Dr Davies. 'His pedestaling of Sutcliffe would have been one of the motives for targeting sex workers, too. But there was another reason: Griffiths wasn't good at forming relationships, so he needed to pick victims who would be easier to lure back to his flat. He could offer them money, a cup of tea, food; they needed him, and he came across as a bit of a saviour to them.' Griffiths' sister, Caroline, says her brother's bizarre behaviour was present from a young age. In the Prime Video documentary, The Crossbow Cannibal, she recalls how Stephen, now 55, stole, pulled wings off birds, killed his pet rat with a hammer, and inflicted physical and mental torture. He would give his siblings 'points' when they annoyed him, and if they reached an undisclosed maximum, he would become violent. 'From a young age, he was problematic, and it just escalated over the years. It got worse and worse. Consequences didn't matter to him,' she remembers. Dr Davies explains that the acts indicate an emotional detachment from an early age. 'He was turning cruelty into a game, and enjoying seeing others in pain,' she explains. 'His siblings didn't go on to behave similarly, which suggests that it wasn't simply a product of the environment.' At 17, Griffiths was arrested for using a knife to injure a shop clerk while shoplifting, and at this time, he was found to have a personality disorder. By 1991, aged 22, Griffiths had been diagnosed as a sadistic schizoid psychopath. 'The sadistic part means he took pleasure in causing pain and humiliation, schizoid is because he was emotionally cold, preferred solitude and could not form close relationships, and psychopathic means he showed multiple signs of manipulation and grandiosity, along with a lack of remorse,' explains Dr Davies. 'Serial killers usually have one of these, but Griffiths had all three, which is a highly dangerous concoction. There's some debate within the psychiatric community as to whether these types of conditions can be treated, but there was not much hope for him, in my opinion.' Caroline was somewhat expecting that one day her brother would do something unforgivable, and recalls the day reports first broke. 'I was enjoying my fish and chips, and the BBC News was on. 'A 40-year-old man in Bradford was arrested, and body parts were found in the river'. I made a funny noise, sucked air through my teeth and said, 'My brother, I bet you that's my brother'.' To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video Griffiths created a persona, Ven Pariah, which he presented himself as on social networking websites. In one post, he said: 'I am a pseudo-human being at best. A demon at worst.' Dr Davies believes this was a bid to 'elevate' himself. 'He describes Stephen as just the outer shell, and Ven as his true self. He wanted to make himself bigger and better than anyone else, so he was almost beyond human,' she explains. More Trending 'Griffiths used names, like crossbow, cannibal, vampire, and bloodbath artists, and said in a police interview, 'Sometimes you kill someone to kill part of yourself', to not just shock, but also to secure his place in history, so that future PhD students would study him just like he was studying others. He didn't want to distance himself from the crimes but to own them and craft the story.' Caroline adds in the documentary; 'He wanted to be someone. It's not my idea of someone you'd want to be, but clearly to him it was. 'If it wasn't for the fact that the brave young woman had to run out of the flat, then maybe he'd never have been caught. She stopped it from happening to a lot more people.' The Crossbow Cannibal is streaming on Prime Video now Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. 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Travel + Leisure
12-07-2025
- Travel + Leisure
How My Family Fell in Love With Ireland's Grand Hotels, Falconry, and the World's Best Bread and Butter
The older I get, the less shame I have. I'll think nothing of, say, falling asleep sitting upright on a bench at Dublin's National Botanic Garden, the day after an overnight flight from New York. (Jet lag, my old enemy, slayer of vacations.) 'Is it okay if we leave you here to nap for a while?' my husband, Caleb, asked. He and his mom, Suzanne, a lifelong gardener, had some herbaceous borders they wanted to investigate. Caleb and I are in our mid 50s; Suzanne is 79. She had flown to Dublin nonstop from Texas, but showed no signs of flagging. For our first family vacation in years, Caleb and I wanted to take Suzanne to Ireland, a country we had visited before and loved. I put myself in charge of booking our accommodations, and picked splurgy hotels. I told myself that Suzanne, being older, would be gratified by the comforts of these high-end properties. But of course, when I fantasized about the trip, the person I imagined enjoying those thick mattresses, rainfall showerheads, and no-brakes breakfast buffets was me. From left: The entry hall of Dublin's Merrion hotel; the hotel's garden. After arriving in Dublin, we checked in to the Merrion , which occupies four 18th-century town houses in the city center. ('One of the greats,' a travel-writing friend commented when I posted a photo of the hotel on Instagram.) Guest relations executive Alexandra Gingell, whom Suzanne immediately befriended, gave us a tour. I was especially eager to see the Merrion's famous art collection, a near-comprehensive survey of Irish painters. (The hotel even has an afternoon tea with pastries inspired by the works on the walls.) Gingell pointed out highlights, including the visionary landscapes of Jack B. Yeats, the poet's younger brother, and the semiabstract still lifes of William Scott, a favorite of mine. Over the next two days, Gingell would stop to chat with us whenever we passed through the lobby, making sure we had everything we needed and giving us recommendations; by the time we checked out, she and Suzanne were exchanging hugs. Dublin is an inherently cozy city. Its Georgian streets look like they've stepped out of a Christmas movie, and the Merrion is similarly cosseting. But the hotel never feels stuffy or claustrophobic, thanks to a springlike palette and a garden courtyard that fills the guest rooms and public spaces with light. On our first night, the three of us met a Dubliner friend for dinner in the Garden Room , which overlooks the courtyard and its statue of James Joyce. The low ceilings, deep banquettes, and intimate acoustics made conversation easy for Suzanne, who has hearing loss. The gallery hall at Dromoland Castle. 'I love being taken care of,' she told Timothy, our waiter, as he offered her an extra cushion for her back. 'That's what I'm here for,' he replied. After two nights in Dublin, we rented a car and drove southwest, to County Kerry. This was the rural Ireland I had longed to return to: green (it's a cliché to call Ireland green, but is there a word more accurate?), tranquil, seemingly populated only by sheep, who'll move out of the road at their own pace, thank you very much. We pulled up to our hotel, just outside the town of Kenmare, at dusk. With its illuminated windows and pathways, Sheen Falls Lodge beckoned like a fairy-tale village. Caleb and I had a suite with French doors that opened onto a view of the namesake falls, where the river Sheen tumbles down layers of rock into Kenmare Bay. I stretched out on the sofa to read in front of the fireplace and within minutes had drifted off to the murmur of the water. The author, right, with his husband and mother-in-law. Sheen Falls Lodge is only a few miles outside the Ring of Kerry, the 111-mile loop that traces the coastline of the relaveragh Peninsula. The Ring is so spectacularly scenic that in summer the road is backed up with tour buses. It was now September, and we were pleased to be missing the crowds. Still, we inched along. It took us most of a day to make it only a quarter of the way around. Was this the best vantage from which to see the lorn, majestic island Skellig Michael (otherwise known as the home of middle-aged Luke Skywalker in Star Wars: The Last Jedi )? No, wait: the view was even better a few hundred feet down the road. Happily, there were plenty of places to eat and take bathroom breaks along the way—the Lobster Bar & Restaurant in Waterville, we discovered, serves a terrific seafood pie. But by late afternoon, it became apparent to me that it's possible to max out on beauty. On Valentia Island, I let Caleb and Suzanne take in what must have been our 19th cliffside stop while I waited in the car. When we got back to Sheen Falls, not a little exhausted, the attentive Brian Richards, a member of the concierge team, thankfully offered to drive us into Kenmare for dinner so we could avoid any parking hassles. It was a relief, the next day, when the three of us agreed not to do any sightseeing whatsoever, and to instead meld into our Sheen Falls surroundings and each pick an activity available on the property. Caleb and I spent the morning, a misty one, with resident falconer Liam Kerry, who introduced us to Archie, an African spotted eagle-owl, and Erin, a Harris's hawk. (No, I'm not really flinching in the photos of Erin landing on my glove, ready to rip into a piece of raw chicken, her enormous, muscular wings flapping a little too close for comfort. It just looks like I am.) Later, as Caleb did some bird-watching on the grounds, Suzanne hiked the property's winding trails, and I briefly splashed around the indoor pool before sinking into the Jacuzzi. We ended our trip at Dromoland Castle , in County Clare, not far from Shannon Airport. As Jane O'Brien, the hotel historian, told us on a tour of the property, the land on which the castle stands belonged to the O'Brien family, which traces its lineage back to Brian Boru, Ireland's high king in the early 11th century. A first castle stood on the site as early as 1014; the one we were staying in dates from the early 1700s. Caleb and I stayed in a two-story suite, where all the romance and grandeur of medieval life was intact: it occupied a turret, with a living room below and a bedroom above. There were also castle-y quirks, like the fact that the hallways twisted and turned so much I kept getting lost. Since I value my sleep, I avoided Googling the words 'Dromoland Castle ghosts.' I didn't want to know. Horseback riding at Sheen Falls. O'Brien showed us the property's walled Renaissance garden, ablaze with deep red and burnished yellow blooms well into fall. Even I, botanical-garden napper, was impressed. 'What do you think of Dromoland?' I asked Suzanne. 'It's a happy fantasy,' she said. As our tour ended, she ducked into the spa for a facial and emerged glowing. That night we put on our least rumpled clothes for a chandelier-lit meal at the hotel's restaurant Earl of Thomond. The food was inventive, and a little witty. My incredibly tender salmon came with a peeled zucchini; when I cut into it, I found that it had been hollowed out and filled with yet more salmon. (I confess that the food that eclipsed all others on this trip, in this and all the other restaurants we visited, was Irish bread and butter. Caleb and I are now Kerrygold converts.) On our last day we headed an hour north, to a rocky region called the Burren, where limestone emerges from the ground in wavelike formations. At the Burren Perfumery, a homey complex of cottages seemingly in the middle of nowhere, we stocked up on souvenirs—naturally scented soaps and lotions with names like Atlantic Coast and Lost Garden—then decamped for lunch in its sunny tearooms. The menu is built around smoked mackerel, which is caught by a local fisherman and, I quickly discovered, puts all other smoked fish to shame. Soon our table overflowed with plates: more sweet brown soda bread and Irish butter, Irish cheeses, pickles, rhubarb salad. The simplest meal of our trip turned out to be the best. Back at Dromoland Castle that night, we tried to decide which of our three hotels had been our favorite. It was a three-way tie: each had charmed us in its own way. Nine months later, Caleb was visiting Suzanne at her home in Fort Worth. She was eager to show him some new potted plants on her back patio. 'Those are the ones we saw in Dublin,' she said, pointing to three varieties of coleus. She had been inspired at the botanical garden—while I was sleeping. A version of this story first appeared in the August 2025 issue of Travel + Leisure under the headline 'The Full Irish .'
Irish Independent
09-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Independent
Wexford ballet school celebrate 60 years of excellence
Wexford People Today at 04:00 The Wexford School of Ballet and Performing Arts (WSBPA), will mark six decades of artistic development and dance education this year. WSBPA was founded in 1965 by Ann O'Leary, a pioneer within the arts space, and the driving force behind the introduction of ballet to the town. When the anniversary milestone was celebrated at the National Opera House in June, with two performances of Diamonds, featuring dancers of all ages, it was on foundations laid by Ann. It all started in the old YMCA Hall on the Main Street, where The Vine restaurant is now. In the early 1970s, Ann's daughter Suzanne was a young ballet student training under the school's guidance. She later studied at the Royal Academy of Dance before moving to England and refining her skills in ballet teaching and dance education. In 1988 Suzanne returned to Wexford and took up a teaching post with the school and would make a profound impact in the Wexford arts community. A year later, she took up a role as resident choreographer at the Wexford Pantomime Society and went on to co-found the Oyster Lane Theatre Group. Her students went on to attend some of the world's most prestigious institutions, like Kirov Ballet School in Russia and English National Bellet School. Between 1994 and 2023, WSBPA expanded to three locations in John Street, as well as Enniscorthy and New Ross. This year a new era commenced with the opening of Studio 12, a custom-built studio in Westpoint Business Park. This studio is four times larger and offers state of the art facilities for the next generation of Irish dancing talent. A spokesperson for the school said it is celebrating '60 years of nurturing talent, inspiring creativity and enriching the cultural fabric of Wexford'.
