I had a strange experience the other night which I’ve been mulling over for a few days. I was out rocking my freshly cut hairs* and one of my new and most excellent bras when I ran into an assemblage of friends at Headlands, and we gathered to sit and talk about this and that, as people do. Somehow, the topic of donuts came up, and I extolled the two greatest donuts in the world: the donuts at Bob’s and the Beignets of Nicholas, which are not technically donuts but they are in the donut family, so I argue that they count. I also started musing on the possibility of making donuts in the next few days, because I haven’t made them in awhile and it might be fun.

“Those are really bad for you, you know,” someone said, looking directly at me while he said it.

“Er, yes,” I replied. “I am aware that donuts are not among the healthiest foods. However, I prefer to find excellent foods which I enjoy and eat them.”

“You really shouldn’t eat donuts,” he said, still obviously addressing me directly.

This is usually the moment in a conversation when someone realizes that they are making a mistake, and they should probably stop talking. In conversations with me, this moment is accompanied with a sudden tightening of the lip, and a change around my eyes. It’s a bit subtle, I grant, but most people notice.

“Because they are really bad for you. Donuts make you fat.”

“Yes,” I said, icily. “There are lots of foods out there that are bad for you. This is true.”

“Well,” he said. “I have a body. And I take care of it.” Unlike you, his subtext clearly said. Obviously you don’t take care of your body.

I was really torn, for a moment, about what to say. How does one respond to this? Do I make a scene, or do I try to defuse the situation, even though this is an issue which really bothers me?

“Well, I take care of mine by eating awesome food,” I said, finally, while the other people at the table began to look awkward, and he repeated his claims about “caring about his body.” Repeated them several times, actually, as I am apparently deaf as well as fat.

“But donuts are bad for you! They are filled with bad stuff!”

“You know, a lot of commercial food is filled with bad stuff,” I said. “I think that a lot of things are both bad and unhealthy. I think that moderate unhealthy food is not such a bad thing, as long as it’s good unhealthy food. I do not approve of consuming bad food of any sort, unhealthy or not.”

This thought is held by a lot of the world’s population, I would like to point out. It is only in America that we are simultaneously enthralled and terrorized by bad, unhealthy food, although we are trying to pass the sickness on to others. In other countries, people romp through rich cheeses and pate and other sinful delights without too much concern, because they know that great food is why we live. Great food is why I live. When I am paralyzed in bed in the morning, filled with uncertainty about whether or not I want to be alive, let alone wake up, I remember that there is good food in the world. I think of a particular moment, a flavor, an elusive instant, and I swing my feet out of bed and pull on a kimono and put the tea kettle on.

This was the first time in my life that someone has ever directly criticized my diet or lifestyle in a way which suggests that I am stupid, or that I should be ashamed of my weight. It’s also the only time anyone has criticized my diet, period, actually. I have eaten monstrous ice cream sundaes alongside people whom I know have a problem with fat, and they have not said a peep, because they understand that I am aware of the link between ice cream consumption and fat, and they trust me to make my own decisions. I mean, there was the drive by oinking, which I think was supposed to be humiliating, but it didn’t come across that way. This was someone, a friend, someone I respect, who was basically saying that the way I take care of my body is bad, implying that I don’t care of myself. Someone, incidentally, who does not eat a very good as in healthy or as in delicious diet.

Who went on, later, to order a large dessert which is probably way worse for you than donuts. And who said that he really liked pasta in cream sauce, and went on to list a bunch of other “bad” foods. Who, when I mentioned that I enjoy pasta in cream sauce as well, frowned.

I wouldn’t say that my primary emotion about this is shame. It’s sadness. For me and for this person, who apparently loathes my body so much that he seized on an opportunity to repeatedly slam my diet, because the above conversation is a bit redacted to remove redundancy, and it in no way conveys the agonizing circular conversation that we had. It made me sad that this person obviously has some kind of issue with the way I look that he doesn’t want to address, and it made me sad to live in a society where it’s ok to criticize me for expressing a fondness of donuts. Had he criticized me for liking black men, everyone at the table would have jumped on him. If he’d said that he didn’t approve of the homosexual lifestyle, someone would have said something. But apparently it’s ok to treat someone like shit “for their own good.” Because, obviously, I’m delusional and stupid, and I have no idea that eating foods loaded with fats and sugars will make me fat. They don’t teach you that in college, you know. Or in…life.

There are so many things I wished that I had said, now. I wished that I had said that I have actually read a lot about diet and nutrition, that I am intelligent, that I am aware that eating food makes you fat, because that’s how life works. I wished I had said that I have discussed this issue with my doctor, that she doesn’t think I eat an unhealthy diet. Or that I had said that my diet was actually way more healthy than his, with a larger focus on whole grains, fresh fruits and vegetables, essential fatty acids. I wished I had said something, anything, rather than taking it with a forced smile and making a witty comment in an attempt to deflect it. Rather than saying nothing, which suggests that he was right.

I know that fat bashing is really the only politically correct bashing allowed these days, but I’m really getting tired of it. So, I have a newsflash for you, dear readers:

Fat people know that they are fat. They are not under the delusion that they are slim, delicate nymphs wandering in an enchanted forest with unicorns. They are also fully aware that you find them repulsive, and some of them are ashamed by that because they have been told to be, while others think that you are petty, sizeist hypocrites who surely have something better to do with your time. It is actually not helpful to tell fat people that their diets are making them fat, because they already know that. It is also not helpful to make disparaging comments about fat, or suggestions about their lifestyles. The reasons for being fat aren’t always hanging out there on the surface, and you may cause intense pain or personal offense by making obvious and stupid statements. So please, don’t. Because I know that all of you are smarter than this.

By the way, here’s a link to the Sixth Edition of the Big Fat Carnival. I suggest that you take the time to read it, because there’s a lot of really awesome material in there, and I am pleased to see that the Big Fat Carnival has been brought back to life.

*For those readers who are not familiar with this particular Northern California expression, I was “sporting my freshly cut hairs,” or even “wearing my freshly cut hairs with elan, pride, pleasure, and a hint of style.” One can be said to be “rocking” a number of things, from a difficult piano solo to an examination. It implies a superior, excellent, and admirable performance. I suspect that it is related to the phrase “rock out with your cock out,” since it also suggests a certain amount of self confidence, the sort of self assurance that would allow you to, well, rock out with your cock out. Assuming that you have one. I’ve always said “rock out with your rack out” when referring to ladies, but for some reason this has never caught on. I admit that there is a rhyming difficulty with “rock” and “rack” which one does not encounter with “rock” and “cock.”

It’s October, and we all know what that means. Pumpkins and candy and…women dressed up like hookers.

Manolo for the Big Girl had a post up today about luscious ladies dressing like skanks, along with a polite request not to do so. They argued it from the point that dressing up like a cheap hooker smacks of desperation, and we buxom dames need not sink that low. But I think there’s another point which could be reasonably argued as well, which is that dressing up like a skank is demeaning. It’s not empowering. It’s not sexy (at any size). It’s just sad.

My gentle readers know that I am not the rabid feminist type, champing at the bit to attack any perceived slight to the female gender, but I really think that dressing up like a slut is denigrating. There are a lot of things that bother me about it, living in the sexualized culture that we do, although Brendan might argue that it bothers me because we live in a culture where that kind of clothing has become charged. When I see women tarting themselves up in too-tight clothing with heavy makeup and teased hair, it fills me with abject sadness and pity.

This is not an issue of fat. I am well aware that many people in this culture claim to find anybody over a size six physically repulsive, and that many of these same people make humiliation of fat people a mission. If it was just an issue of fat, I would say that large ladies should live it up in tight clothes, pointing out to the rest of the world that we do exist, damnit, and a lot of us actually have really nice bodies. But I don’t think anyone should take the cheap route by dressing up as a hooker for Halloween because…well, because it’s cheap. And degrading. And sad.

One of my male friends dressed up as a “naughty nurse” last year, which was sort of funny in that he was making fun of the whole concept of dressing up like a hooker. The pictures are pretty priceless. But seeing a woman in the same costume raises a lot of issues for me, as it cheapens the nursing profession while also devaluing the wearer. Why would anyone do that to herself voluntarily?

We ladies have a lot to offer to society. Why not wear costumes which are actually empowering and cool, rather than just slapping on a pair of hot pants and calling it good? One year, I went as Queen Elizabeth I, which required an awesome costume with huge skirts and a tightly laced top, and hours of careful makeup and hairstyling. It was a lot of fun, and I got a lot of comments. In fact, while the sluts/skanks/hookers/naughty whatevers leaned against the wall looking petulant, the males at the party crowded around me to compliment me on my costume.

So, if it’s about attention, wear something awesome and over the top. Go as a Scrabble board, a Jenga set, a historical figure, a horse, something weird and eye-catching. Use some imagination. If it’s about empowerment, go as a strong historical figure like Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, Susan B. Anthony, Alexander. Personally, I’m tempted to go as Napoleon. Or maybe Genghis Khan.

But please…ladies…don’t dress up as skanks this year.

For some reason, this story sprang to mind today, although it happened some time ago.

One evening, I was walking along Main Street when a very jacked up car filled with ruffians drove by. As they passed me, the windows went down and the men started shouting:

“Oink! Oink!”

They accompanied the calls with snarfling noises, which I believe were meant to bring the thought of pigs to mind. I actually looked over my shoulder to see if there was a cop behind me, when I realized that they were oinking at me.

Hrm, I thought, what was that about? Why would you “oink” at someone who isn’t a cop? Do I look like a cop? Am I wearing a Police Activities League shirt or something?

And then, I realized. They were oinking at me because they thought I was fat, because I was strolling down the street eating an ice cream cone and enjoying the last of the lingering daylight. They were, it occurred to me, trying to insult me, or perhaps to shame me. Unfortunately for them, “fat” is not a pejorative word to me.

“Guess what,” I shouted, exploding into Headlands where I saw some friends, “I just got oinked!”

I explained what had happened, my face aglow, and my mouth twitching with laughter, but despite these obvious signs of merriment, my friends clearly thought that I was devastated by the drive by oinking.

“Oh,” someone said, “that’s awful. Who would do that?”

“Don’t you pay them any mind,” someone else said. “Who gives a shit what other people think.”

“No, you guys,” I said, “it was AWESOME! They actually thought that they were insulting me by oinking at me? I mean, who seriously thinks that! Pigs are spectacular! I am so honored to be compared to a pig, they are wicked smart and super clean and just amazing. And they taste good! I love that people thinking oinking at me is going to reduce me to a quivering blob of fatty jelly!”

“Oh. Well, then, I guess it’s good that you got oinked,” a friend finally said, after a long pause.

Yes, yes it was. It actually made my week to get oinked. It’s such an empowering moment when someone tries to insult you and you just find it amusing, don’t you think? It’s a sad thing that we live in a culture where fat women are expected to be ashamed of themselves, and where moderately chubby or buxom women are lumped in with the obese and taught to hate themselves. But the instant you see an insult as a compliment, you’ve won.

It can take a long time to get to that point, but when you do, it makes such a difference in how you view the world.

“It’s just really frustrating,” I said, turning my head to look at him, “that people reject me because of my body, you know?”

“Well,” he pointed out, taking a swig of his beer, “would you really want to date someone that shallow anyway?”

“Well, no. I suppose not. But it’s the principal of the thing, that people so quickly categorize each other. That I know people who would be ashamed of dating someone like me, because of my body, even if they were really into me. That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, society is pretty fucked up.”

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the trees sighing overhead and the sand trickling down the bank. I was trying to muster up the will to get into the river, but it was still a smidgen too cold. I sipped my own Eye of the Hawk and stared moodily into the sand.

“Besides,” he added, “I don’t think you’re bad looking.”

It’s kind of funny being surrounded by people who “don’t think I’m bad looking” because they don’t want to admit I’m fat. It’s cool, I say, I know I’m fat, I’m not blind. And did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t like being objectified, that there are more important things in my life than prettiness? I know that my body is out of fashion, and that doesn’t really bother me. What I think they don’t realize is how hurtful it is to have people constantly reject a part of your identity. I mean, if you had an African American friend, you wouldn’t say “oh, you don’t really look that black to me,” would you? Especially when fat is so bound up in who I am, and in how I live my life. I might not be the chunkmonster, but I am no slim and svelte vixen. Curvaceous, they say, or just curvy, or maybe ample, chunky, pudgy. I’ve always hated “chunky” because it makes me think of ice cream. Why not just say “fat”? Heavyset. Stocky. Or maybe we live in a skewed reality where my body really is normal and healthy, and I just feel like an elephant beside the armies of skinny girls I run around with. Especially when there are people out there who fetishize and lust after bodies like mine, it seems a shame to deny it.

“It’s funny,” I said, “that there are actually people out there who are really into my body type. But I’m not into them. And I find that as weird and repulsive as people who reject the possibility of involvement with me because I’m fat. Both things are just fetishizing something, not thinking about people as people.”

“I think that you are too hard on yourself,” he said. “Really I think chicks are way more bound up in this stuff than men. I mean, I know lots of guys who don’t care about that stuff.”

“Really? Because I don’t know anyone who ‘doesn’t care about this stuff.’ I know people, people that you know too, who might be into fat chicks, but would never admit it, because they are ashamed of it. Because they think that their friends will make fun of them for going out with a fattie. So they date parades of anoretic tortured women instead, because that’s better. I’m fairly certain that of all the people we know, the ones who might consider dating me would do so in spite of my size, not because they didn’t care.”

But he did have a point. Some of the most severe critics of women’s bodies are…other women. “But,” you say, “it’s the oppressive fashion industry which is so hard on women!” Who do you think works in the fashion industry? Runs fashion magazines? It’s not just men, folks. A lot of women are high powered designers, magazine editors, and authorities within the fashion industry. And those women have the same unrealistic standards that the men in the industry do.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say that we are doing this to ourselves, but we certainly helped make the bed, so to speak. Every time a woman criticizes another woman for her body, belittles someone for her size, or makes a judgment about someone because she is fat, she feeds the beast. Every time you assume it’s safe to leave me around your boyfriend because I’m fat, it’s a knife to my heart. And every time a friend says “you’re not bad looking” while refusing to meet me in the eye, a little piece of my soul is chipped away.

“I just think it’s funny, funny and tragic,” I said, “that people are repulsed by me and won’t admit it. Or that people talk trash about ‘fatties’ while they’re around me, and they just don’t seem to make the connection. Or they say ‘we don’t mean people like you.’”

“Well, I mean, they don’t. Mean people like you, I mean.”

Ah, so what is a “person like me”? A jolly fatty? A fatty you know, so you can personalize the fatness, and you have trouble tossing it by the wayside because it doesn’t meet with your standards? I mean, I hear people criticizing fat people who don’t exercise, fat people who eat all the time, and fat people, who, *gasp*, embrace being fat. Gee, kids, that sounds a lot like me.

It’s not that being fat is a barrel of laughs all the time. When you go out on a date that someone else set up and the other person is horrified by your size, it’s hard to keep smiling. When nothing seems to fit when you want to get dressed nicely to go out, you can be filled with bitterness. When people ignore you because you have an invisibility cloak of fatness on, it can be devastating. When nothing a store sells will fit, it can be enraging. But, on the other hand, I eat whatever the fuck I want. I love my curvy body, and the things I can wear on it. I love the expression of shock I see on people’s faces when I play tennis, run, paddle a canoe. It fills me with delight when people are surprised that I am intelligent, thoughtful, and capable of contributing to a conversation. There’s something about always being underestimated that fills you with a determination to kick ass. And that’s something that skinny girls with socially acceptable midriffs just don’t get to experience.

Feminists should care about fat and fat acceptance because fat people are in a place right now where women were not too long ago. And to deny a huge part of the population acceptance is to ultimately undermine the movement, as feminists learned when they tried to segregate the movement, and when they tried to take queers out of the equation. You may be “so repulsed by fat people that you want to vomit,” as someone said to me once, but we are going to be a crucial part of the liberation of women, whether you like it or not. Ignore us at your own peril, sizeist feminists.

[feminism]
[fat]
[sizeism]

Today when I went into the City with Puff, I realized that I didn’t have anything to read on the MUNI back. This, of course, meant that I got to indulge my great guilty pleasure: reading girlie magazines. I don’t know why I do it, because I spend most of my time shaking my head in puzzlement over the “relationship advice,” wondering if anyone seriously believes this sort of nonsense. Seriously. Do people really need to read magazines to be informed that they should touch their partners during dates? And then I marvel at specials like “picking out the perfect summer bikini,” which would apparently have readers believe that purchasing a $200 swimsuit will magically give them the figure of the model in the picture. And the perfume ads smell bad, and the “fashion” looks terrible. You’re also hard pressed to find anyone over a size eight in the entire magazine, unless theres a special about fat people.

But I picked up the May Cosmo anyway, and settled in a quiet bus seat with the cover hidden so that no one would realize I wasn’t reading Atlantic Monthly.

One article stood out to me in this issue. It was written by a woman who had a gastric band put in to lose weight. Given that she was over 300 pounds, it sounds like it may have been a good choice for her, since she was having trouble controlling her weight with other methods.

But the article made me rather sad. Instead of talking about any of the health risks associated with being overweight, it focused on the idea that people should lose weight in order to be attractive. Case in point for the article’s author was the event that proved to be the tipping point for her. She writes about having lunch with a friend who has just acquired a new boyfriend, and thinking wistfully that she wants a boyfriend as well. But…”it never would if I continued eating the way I did. I had to lose weight.”

It’s really unfortunate that this had to be the catalyst. Why not “I was tired of wheezing after short walks” or “my doctor was concerned about my heart health as a result of my weight.” Probably both of those things were true…but the author didn’t lose weight for herself, she lost it for other people. Personally, I think that’s tragic. She touches upon this briefly later in the article, where she talks about feeling odd when men hit on her, knowing that they wouldn’t have given her the time of day at her previous weight. I have to hope that the article was tweaked by Cosmo, because I feel like she’s going to regret her decision later on, if she really did just lose weight for other people.

The article also did not talk about the risks associated with abdominal weight loss surgery. I notice that a lot of magazines like this only focus on the positive side, the amazing stories of people losing hundreds of pounds. They don’t talk about when the surgery fails, and the patient ends up gaining more weight. They also don’t talk about the serious issues of infection and death which can accompany abdominal surgery. Nope, you too can pick up a hot new boyfriend after a quick and painless surgery.

And, of course, no one would want to be fat, and choose to reject the weight loss surgery if it was offered. Because fat, my friends, is ugly, and gross, and wrong.

Oh…the other interesting thing? I note that she didn’t mention any new boyfriend, suggesting that weight loss wasn’t the golden ticket to success anyway. Bummer.

[Cosmopolitan]
[fat]

Wade of Healthbolt recently published a post which has been getting a lot of attention from the blogging community, thanks to a recent link on BoingBoing. The post is a quick overview of idealized female forms over the centuries, and the author has been severely criticized in the comments.

I appreciate the spirit of the post, which is attempting to spark an honest discussion about beauty ideals and the female body. I think that some of the comments, like this one: “people who have the impertinence to publicly admit that they prefer thinner figures to heavier ones” are pretty offensive. The content of the comment does not offend me: everyone is allowed to express their personal desires, and pursue them. It’s the tone, the idea that the “fat police” are ready to jump down the throat of anyone who says that they prefer thin women. I think it has been clearly established that slender women are preferred by our society: there’s no need to say it aloud when it’s a fact. And following the masses is certainly not going to be viewed as impertinent.

But some of the commenters are dead on: one of the serious problems I have with the post is that a wide spectrum of examples from each era is not being used. Yes, the post speaks to a general trend in “beauty” but it doesn’t use enough solid evidence to back it up. While students of the Rennaissance are aware that the curvy, large female body was idealized then, the layperson might not be aware of that. Wade should certainly be providing more images to back up the point, which is that our perception of beauty for women has changed, along with many other aspects of our society. The post is also greatly simplifying a complex social phenomenon, and it is important to address the myriad factors that combine to form female beauty ideals.

Another problem with the post was highlighted by several commenters: Wade uses extremely thin supermodels to illustrate a modern “ideal.” However, many male commenters pointed out that they preferred curvier women. Perhaps not on the Ruebens level, for sure, but certainly women with more flesh than anoretic supermodels. This extremely thin body is something which women are pursuing for themselves, thanks to social pressure. Women’s magazines idealize this form, women tell each other that they are too fat, and a multibillion dollar “beauty” industry feeds on it.

Yes, most people publicly say that they prefer slender women. But bony supermodels are not slender, they are skinny. Therein lies a huge difference, which Wade does not appear to be differentiating: I believe that the social ideal of a beautiful women is a bit more fleshy than the modern day fashion model at the end of the post. By not admitting this, it does the provocative post a disservice. Most of the men I’ve talked to about beauty ideals have fairly…realistic standards. They’re still looking for women more slender than I am, but they find hyperthin women distasteful. Whereas the women I talk to idealize the emaciated form. Interesting, eh?

I think that men and women have different beauty standards, and that in many ways women are harder on themselves than men are. Many women feel pressured to pursue a thin ideal, and do so, often with severe repercussions for health. The tragedy of it is that when this bony goal is achieved, men are often put off by it. I suspect that Wade’s post might have been more interesting if each era had featured a “female beauty ideal for men” and a “female beauty ideal for women.” I think that in the 1950s, a divergence would have begun to emerge, with the male beauty ideal remaining slender, but still healthy, and the female ideal growing dangerously thin.

I think that with a bit of editing, Wade’s post could spark an even more interesting and insightful discussion about beauty standards and ideals. It’s a topic that has always intrigued me, because I don’t have a “type” or ideal: I find the mind far more sexier than the body, which I view almost as an afterthought. One of the most beautiful women I know, for example, would be considered severely overweight, but in my eyes, she’s wicked hot. There is something deeply tragic to me about living in a society where people choose potential mates solely on the grounds of physical appearance, rather than far more important and lasting traits. There’s also a profound lack of honesty in sculpting and culturing bodies to conform with an ideal, whether it come from external or internal sources.

After the revolution, when the skinny stupid girls have all died…the plump intellectuals will still be here.

[beauty standards]
[fat]

When obesity surgery first entered the public consciousness, it certainly sounded like a silver bullet. Certainly, there are risks associated with abdominal surgery, but imagine having a procedure which would alter how much you could eat and digest, thus instantly paving your path to thinness. For the chronically obese, surgeons argued, the procedure was a lifesaver. A few hours of surgery, a decrease in stomach size, and almost immediate weight loss results.

The use of bariatric surgery is on the rise in the United States in a big way, partially because it’s a medical fix to a growing issue. Many Americans who perceive an issue with their weight are unwilling or unable to stay the course of long term lifestyle changes such as altering their diet and exercise habits. Bariatric surgery forces the patient to change the way ou eats. Many more patients are coerced into the surgery by medical professionals, some of whom should know better.

Books and articles were written. Angry rants were posted. Satisfied surgical results were also written about.

But now it’s been a few years, and there’s been ample time to study the surgery, along with an expanding base of patients to examine. And the truth of bariatric surgery is emerging. It’s not a pretty one. It turns out that getting thin is complicated.

40% of patients develop complications within six months of the surgery, some of them fatal. That’s an alarmingly high complication rate. It’s also expensive–the average cost patients paid to deal with their complications was $36,542, and if readmitted to the hospital that price tag was a lot higher. Of course, somewhere between ten and twenty percent of patients don’t even get a chance to leave the hospital before complications set in. Surgery comes with complications: this is an unavoidable truth. But there is an acceptable complication rate, depending on the nature of the surgery and why the patient is receiving it. A 40% rate is extraordinarily high for a primarily elective procedure.

Weight is a fraught issue in the United States. The President of the American Society for Bariatric Surgery admits that probably less than 1% of patients who receive the surgery actually need it. In an age where doctors can’t spend enough time with their patients to address issues, and where being fat is tantamount to being a member of Hezbollah, there’s a great deal of pressure to fix the “problem,” and quickly. Preferably in such a way that you can convince your insurance to pay for it, also.

Those who are severely overweight are prone to health risks. This is something that cannot be argued. Whether or not they should be forced onto diets to normalize with society is a personal choice, likewise with those who are moderately overweight. While surgery looks like an “easy” solution to the problem, it’s not. Moderation and slow steps are in the long term a more healthy approach to weight loss.

All surgery is complicated, even “routine” procedures. There’s a certain amount of risk involved in being under anesthesia and being cut open. Medical professionals do their best to alleviate the risks for their patients, but a lot of the risks associated with surgery are complicated by weight. “Elective” surgery is something which should not be undertaken lightly and the patient should work closely with surgical staff to achieve the best result.

People have been dying to be thin for a long time. It doesn’t surprise me that the latest “quick” solution to unwanted weight comes with a heavy cost. As social pressures against the fat and happy (or not so happy) mount, how many more will go on the table to have their sins cut away?

[fat]

There once was a time when fecund, fertile, round, fleshy women were adulated. In some parts of the world, this is still true. However, the majority of the west finds a hyper-skinny almost childlike appearance to be the paragon of sexuality, and women starve themselves, overexercise, undergo dangerous surgery, and constantly strive in other ways to meet this ideal. Women have always been held to a higher beauty standard than men have and the costs have always been high, but they seem particularly high now, when women are dying for the sake of acceptance in their narrowminded and media-driven society. For women, our bodies are our sexuality, and modern society has a limited view of which bodies are “healthy” and therefore permitted to engage in sensuality.

Style and sexuality are closely equated, especially in the Western World. Especially styles about body types, which determine when a woman is viewed as “sexy,” and when she is merely “attractive” or bluntly “ugly”. When did style trends change from a value of the larger body to adoration of the emaciated? The transition seems to have begun in the teens and twenties with the Gibson Girl and flapper looks, although the groundwork was laid by the Victorians (who had some curious ideas about sexuality themselves). In the twenties a lean almost boyish look was the order of the day, although womanly curves came briefly back into style during the second world war, for those who could afford them. But the sixties brought us mass media on an hitherto unknown scale, and they also brought us Twiggy. After that, it seemed inevitable that any woman over a size six would be called “fat,” that the dieting industry would become a multi-million dollar powerhouse, and that Western Culture, and especially American culture, would marginalize “the fat” to the point that they may as well not exist.

By Western beauty standards, a women must be freakishly slender, yet miraculously endowed with sizeable breasts. She is also preferably blonde and tall, though there is more leniency in this field depending on personal preference. For males seeking a prospective mate and status, this is important information. Men who choose to date larger women will be condemned by their fellows, and may find themselves hiding a secret girlfriend from their critical society. Some allowance may be made for women who are slightly chubby (cute), but fat women are not, under any circumstances, to be dated. One might consider picking one up at the bar on a desperate night (hogging), but certainly no long term relationship would come out of it, because fat women are not permitted sexuality under the rigid standards of Western culture. It used to be that being fat was a sign of wealth and social power–now the less flesh you have on your bones, the more money you are likely to control, at least in the West. Being skinny is quite expensive, nowadays.

Fat women are mother figures. Fat women bake pies and set them out to cool on the window sill, they give you big hugs and reassurance when you feel bad, and all sexuality is abstracted from them. Some fat women embrace their bodies and dress stylishly, flamboyantly, and always in perfect shoes. Some wear muumuus and skulk about in shame of their physical appearance. Fat women drift through society more or less invisibly, unless they invent larger than life characters and force the world to recognize them. All fat women are reminded on a daily basis by their doctors, the media, disapproving friends, and their culture that they are lesser beings than their thinner brethren. Fat women are forced to exaggerate themselves for attention, to be constantly cheerful and pleasant, and they will be chastised if they aren’t.

It’s unfortunate that society has decided fat women are not to be allowed sexuality, because there’s a whole lot more to love there. And not just in the sense of being larger. In The Beauty Myth, Naomi Wolf points out that fat women actually have stronger libidos, and a greater concentration of sex hormones. Would you like lackluster sex with Kate Moss once a week or frequent great sex with a larger partner? Extremely large women may face some physical difficulties due to their size, but they more than make up for it with creativity and commitment. Fat sexuality, far from being something to be feared and reviled, is something to be embraced firmly with both hands. Fat women are sexual, and fat women are sexy. Fat women are rejected out of hand as nonsexual creatures, to the detriment of those doing the rejecting. Fat: it’s just a better lover.

Fat women enjoy their sexuality as they enjoy life. I ate out with a large number of ladies recently and I was dismayed to see them ordering ascetic salads, eating half their portions, and fretting about the number of calories therein. I plunged joyously into my meal, savoring the flavours I was experiencing with my whole heart. Some people claim that fat people are obsessed with food–au contraire, thin people are obsessed with food. They are wrapped up in consuming themselves, and food becomes an all important issue for them, rather than a pleasurable daily ritual. No wonder skinny people look so bitter and stressed all the time, because skinniness is a never ending quest which must be constantly pursued. You cannot afford to let your guard down if you still want to fit into those double zeros, if you still want to be loved and adored by society.

While the fat may be invisible, they are having a lot more fun.

I’m not the only one who thinks this. Numerous studies have suggested that while men claim to prefer thinner women, they are more aroused by mid-sized figures. Curious, isn’t it, when one considers how high the pedestal upon which thin women are put is. It’s a tragedy that our culture discriminates against people of size in all walks of life–they find it harder to get jobs, to travel comfortably, to be in social situations, to exist. Considering the growing number of Americans who are overweight, it would seem that a reevaluation of our beauty standards may be in order, otherwise status-seeking men may find themselves seeking after a dwindling number of fretful, skinny women. It is deeply unfortunate that this country invests so much in fetishizing skinny women when there are so many amazing, powerful, beautiful, sexy ladies out there–who just happen to be a size 14.

Fashions do cycle, and eventually the larger body may come back into style. (It is likely that this will occur doing a period of food and resource scarcity, because then fat will, once again, be a signal that the bearer is well connected, healthy, and influential.) People who fetishize the skinny claim that their desires are “innate” and “hardwired,” that fat women are just “repulsive,” and that’s the way it is. I suspect, however, that this “innate” wiring is largely cultural, and therefore malleable. Until the time do change, our only recourse is exposure and education. You’re going to see my cleavage in tight shirts, and you’re going to like it.

[fat]

Welcome to the second ever Big Fat Carnival!

I’ve spent the last month and a half reading over a veritable flood of amazing submissions from writers all over the, er, blogosphere, and dealing with a wide range of topics, from celebrations of gorgeous bodies to weight loss surgery. There are a lot of thoughts going on in that there world about fat, and I really enjoyed reading some of them.

For ease of browsing, I have divided the posts into rough categories. Some entries, naturally, refused to allow themselves to slot neatly into just one category, so I’ve had to make a few arbitrary choices. Reminds me of someone I know…

Oh, the things we love:

Dee of Curvaceous Dee writes a great post about something she really loves: her body. Her paean to her body is accompanied by links to other celebrations of large luscious ladies. In her words: “I’m not the only beautiful sexy fat woman out there - so have a look, admire their self-assurance, and remember that flesh is delicious when it is accompanied by esteem and love.” (Contains nudity.)

Soopermouse of I hate people ponders a turn of phrase. In her words: “I am fat. I don’t really have a problem with that. I am healthy, I am fit, and I like myself. However, I know a lot of women who cannot follow up ‘I am fat’ with the phrase ‘I like myself’.”

Yours truly of, uh right here writes about something I love: food. In my words: “Well of course I love food, right? I’m fat! Food and fatties go together like french vanilla ice cream and blackberry pie (lattice-top, if you please).”

Tina of The Big Red Chair loves comfort at any size, whether you are going to the prom or taking a theme park vacation. In her words: “A trend in some plus size online clothiers is to custom create their pieces for the individual buyer. This works better in instances where the wearer is not exactly in a specific size, or has special needs like being petite.”

Marsha Coupe of Big Fat Facts would like you to take a moment and think about notable people of size. In her words: “What impresses us about these individuals, however, is that they are larger than life, from the inside out. Here we celebrate spirits housed in wonderfully abundant bodies.”

Oh, the media:

Nellorat of Esoteric Lucubrations has been looking at the use of fat figures in popular art and comics. Here’s the second part in what I hope will be a continuing series. In her words: “Perhaps the most surprising discovery, going through the old comics in the Smithsonian collection of newspaper comics, is how wide a range of body types the strips from the 1920s etc. show–before the so-called era of ‘realism’ in comics.”

Michelle of Peggy Nature is troubled by conflicting information about nutrition, and the alarming amount of misinformation readily available to anyone who turns on a television or walks into a bookstore. In her words: “Because solid information about nutrition is hidden behind such a thick and profitable veil of quackery, it’s less a matter of what you eat than what you’re willing to swallow.”

Another entry from yours truly in response to an utterly galling “article” at AskMen. In my words: “The brilliant editorial staff over at AskMen have some awesome relationship tips for you, boys, so you’d better hop on over there. This hardhitting article has ’six ways to tell your girl to lose some weight.’”

The lovely ladies of Body Impolitic have some additional words on the AskMen article. In their words: “The home page is bad enough, starting with a quotation (today’?s is about how getting money is more important than being honest) and a fact (today’?s is about Sheryl Crow’?s false teeth). Are you impressed yet?”

Oh, the things society does to us:

Yawning Lion of feh-muh-nist recently got an invitation to a dance event. She found it an unnerving experience, because of the societal barriers which must be hurdled when you are fat and asked to “dance like no one’s watching.” In her words: “I hate the ‘connecting’ dance. I feel monstrous and threatening as I swing my substantial self about. I am hesitant to touch, nervous it will be wrong. I move away from the touch of others, afraid they will feel how sweaty I am and be repulsed. I am afraid I stink. I am afraid I will hurt someone if I move towards them too fast. I am afraid I will fall and crush someone. I am afraid it is not safe to connect with me. I am afraid my body is dangerous.”

The lovely and curvaceous Ocean Earth of Yes, but has something she’d like to point out: 4,000 Years of Patriarchy Sucks! No doubt, sister. In her words: “How do I explain that I love myself so much and it took so long to get there that I’m not going to risk becoming someone who runs to the bathroom and pukes after dinner just so I can have a so-called easier and better life? That I don’t need to attract men in order to get them to do my bidding to feel powerful or to get what I want?”

Vegankid, who will be hosting the next Big Fat Carnival, recently encountered a stunning photograph, and she has some hard thoughts about the fat body in art. In her words: “Even when someone seemingly tries to highlight the beauty of a group of people dancing naked regardless of their size, it becomes another exercise in reminding us how much our bodies are despised when we label the photo series ‘Full Body Project’.”

Starla of Beside the Pointe has a scathing review of the advice offered by Bride’s Magazine to a soon to be married lady of size. In her words: “Or is it that the people who are so unaccepting of the fact that not all fat women feel like covering up their bodies but instead decide to show them off (god forbid!) are the ones that feel they have the right to tell a fat woman to cover up because they themselves are the ones with body issues, not the fat women?” (She also has a very cute cat, named Pinky.)

Meliana of What Fresh Hell Is This recently encountered a food-phobe at a party, and found herself thinking about food pathologies in women. In her words: “The current unrealistic standards of female beauty and their effects on women’s lives have been written about extensively by those who studied them far more closely than I, yet even as a total amateur I know their capacity to ruin.”

The ladies of Body Impolitic note a growing threat to American security, according to the prophets on high: fat ladies. In their words: “‘Hey, babe,’ he said. ‘Lonely?’ What a question! She would have had ‘lonely’ written on every line of her face, if her face had had any lines.” (Note: of course, this is based upon the assumption that fat women have low self esteem…something which I do not necessarily believe to be true.)

Oh, the things we do to ourselves:

Thinking about laproscopic gastric bypass surgery? Yoshi at Multiple Mentality has some words for you: it’s not a magic bullet. In his words: “MM Contributor Yoshi did have the surgery and did lose the weight, he still has all the same neuroses he had before the surgery. Too often, WLS is considered a cure-all, but the MSM refuses to admit that the cause of being overweight isn’t just because we eat too much. As Yoshi tells us, there’s a LOT more to it. He’s still the same person; he’s just 175 pounds lighter.”

Colleen of The Pretty Pear has a cautionary tale. In her words: “Anyway, lesson learned - if you have any kind of Chub Rub (and if you’re reading this, chances are you do) and plan on wearing a skirt, USE PROTECTION.”

Being while fat:

BigMamaDoc is a medical professional…and she’s also fat. She has some wonderful thoughts on being a fat physician, and interactions with fat patients. In her words: “Fat people sometimes want a fat doctor. It’s not as embarrassing to be naked in front of a fat doctor. A fat doctor understands the pain inflicted by the words ‘just watch what you eat’ or ‘just try to exercise more every day.’”

Christina of Babes and the Burbs has been thinking about the changes her body is going through as she gets older, spurred by the “stay home, lose weight!” ads. In her words: “What if in my thirties I have to make peace with my body the way it is now and stop trying to make it fit into the twenty-something body my mind is determined to memorialize?” (Note: site is not Firefox friendly.)

Maia of Capitalism Bad; Tree Pretty (she also posts at Alas, A Blog, has been thinking about the phrase The Personal is Political. In her words: “I don’t think we can analyse the political implications of food and women’s bodies, unless we talk about what that means personally.”

Ampersand of Alas, A Blog has some firm words about the weight loss dieting industry. In his words: “Most of the time, people on weight loss diets gain back the weight they lose. But that doesn’t mean they’re back where they started, healthwise. Many studies have found that losing weight - even if the weight is regained - is associated with higher mortality rates.”

Thank you for joining us. Hopefully you’ve had your thoughts stimulated, or have been inspired by some of the work you’ve read today. If for some reason your post isn’t here (assuming it was submitted before midnight on Sunday, 3rd April via the blogcarnival form or midnight on the 4th by email), please let me know so that I may rectify the omission.

The next carnival will be hosted by vegankid on Tuesday, 6 June 2006.

Individuals interesting in hosting future editions should drop a line to barry at amptoons dot com for more information.

[Big Fat Carnival]

If you’re planning on submitting to the second ever Big Fat Carnival, a good time to do that is this week, as the deadline is midnight Pacific time on Sunday, 2 April 2006! If you miss this carnival, you’re going to have to wait a whole two months for the next one, and that doesn’t sound like any fun.

Only email submissions are being accepted at this time! You may email me, including “Big Fat Carnival submission” or something similar in the subject line (meloukhia at gmail dot com).

The Big Fat Carnival is a carnival for collecting some of the best blog posts regarding fat pride; fat acceptance; critiques of anti-fat bigotry, attitudes and research; celebration of images of fat people; practical difficulties of being fat; fat love (queer and otherwise); feminist views of fat and fat acceptance; the health at every size movement (HAES); and whatever else each edition’s editor feels fits into the theme.

(But please note, The Big Fat Carnival is not a place to advocate weight-loss diets, weight loss surgery (WLS), or feederism.)

This carnival will be published on Tuesday, 4 April, and I look forward to including your work in it!

[Big Fat Carnival]