Fat Slut

Interesting post by the Fug Girls over at New York magazine. It just makes me think – I was never upset or disillusioned about only seeing bone-thin models in Vogue, which my mom got for years. Mostly because while I was never going to be that thin, I certainly was never going to be that rich, either. Comments about being too rich or too thin aside – my family growing up was and still is pretty solidly middle class. I never wanted for anything, but a $5000 dollar handbag or $600 pair of shoes was never something I thought of having. The models in those clothes were as unrealistic and unattainable as the clothes themselves. And a good bit older than me, too. What did bother me, what did have an impact on my self-esteem, were the girls in Seventeen. That was much more packaged and targeted to girls in my age and class bracket – being suburban and about twelve when I started reading it – and the models were generally about my age-ish and had perfect hair and makeup and impossibly, effortlessly thin. With articles on how dangerous eating disorders were and “celebrating your body” and still having these thin models? I think the teen magazines need to worry more about this stuff than Vogue, which is admittedly blatant fantasy.

This could probably be more coherent, but I’m trying to work on a presentation and do homework and not think about how my MA exams are a week away. Ulp.

The other day I was discussing shopping with my friend A. We’d been to Target the night before – I needed pyjamas for an impromptu sleepover at her house, and she and her mom decided to comb the sales racks. As you do. And I found pyjamas and a shirt for the next day, and I’d tried on another shirt where they scaled up the body for an XXL but not the sleeves. Shame, since it was cute and a lovely green color.

But the next day when she was driving me back to the train station (an hour away so I didn’t have to transfer at one of the scariest train stations in the country) we discussed how hard it is to find clothes. Because I’m 5′4″ and wear a 20 or 22 on bottom and anything from a 16 to a 20 on top. And because she’s 5′10″ and very skinny and relatively long-waisted and flat-chested. We both have problems shopping for clothes. And we’re considering just tailoring our own. There was talk of a Hello Kitty sewing machine.

So tomorrow I’m going shopping with L and J (not the same L from my previous post; I may have to give these girls pseudonyms) and I’m actually sort of excited for it. Because J is also fat, and L is straight sizes on bottom but can do smaller plus sizes on top, because she has a Rack of Doom. So we will go to the stores where we can find things that fit and look awesome, and buy Fabulous and Fierce clothes. No, seriously, that is our plan. We want to look Fierce, for reasons to do with a boy that might get detailed in a later post. We’re also looking for shoes.

And the other reason that I’m excited about this shopping trip: I’ve recently weeded out my closet and dresser. I lost some weight about three years ago, then gained back all of it and a lot more two years ago due to some major emotional upheaval. (Best friend dumping me + writing a senior thesis + waiting for grad school acceptances = major depressive episode and triggering of bingeing.) But I was wearing clothes that were still too small for a really long time. And I’m finally, slowly, getting rid of them. Getting clothes that fit me, that don’t ride up or bind or bunch uncomfortably. It’s taking a while. But I’m getting there, slowly. That’s part of what tomorrow is for.

It gets said a lot. “You have such a pretty face.” If only you could lose weight and free that pretty face from the layers of blubber! Surely there’s a pretty body to go along with it! And so forth.

But what if you don’t have that pretty face? I do, more or less – big hazel eyes, people always ask if I’m wearing eye makeup, a great smile, meticulously groomed brows, and a nose that gets the job done. And my hair looks fantastic, more often than not. Good genes, that’s all, but it gives me a certain amount of cultural capital, to borrow a phrase from Mina. On the other hand I have a friend who is definitely… not pretty. How different is that experience for her?

I sound like such a n00b, I know.

First off, I want to apologize to my poor neglected blog. My regular journal is getting neglected too, as is pretty much everything in my life that isn’t studying. I’m taking my MA exams on April 4th and 7th. I feel doomed. So I haven’t got much spare brainspace for Real Issues, or in fact anything that happened after 330 CE.

Anyway. Tonight we had a lecture and a reception, and at the reception I ended up standing and chatting with L and R, two other students. L is also a fat girl, possibly slightly bigger than me, but I’ve always been bad at judging that sort of thing. R is tallish and rail-thin. So we’re chatting and the conversation turns to clothes; I have a desperate need for spring clothes, due to weeding out my wardrobe and ditching a ton of clothes. (They didn’t fit anyway, but that’s another post. And a lot of stuff is stained or deteriorating because I’ve had it for ages and can’t get through a meal without dropping something on myself.) R chimes in that she hates shopping, we commiserate, and she says something about it being impossible to find pants, in part because she has no butt.

I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now that I’m home and figuring out when I can go shopping I’m sort of mad. I totally agree that mainstream manufactured clothing is impossible for a lot of people, and that everybody has a hard time finding stuff that fits. It’s the nature of the beast. But. But if you are under a size 14 or 12, you are going to have a slightly easier time simply because there are more options. There are maybe two or three stores in any mall where I can buy clothes in my size, and that’s if I’m lucky. We don’t have a Torrid in the mall that I go to. We have a Lane Bryant, and another by the grocery store. There are the department stores, but Macy’s are prevalent down here and I haven’t found them that great for plus-size shopping. I can squeeze into the largest size at New York & Company for tops, depending on the style. Same for Target; their plus-size section, at least in our store, is pretty dire. And… that’s about it. I simply have fewer places to look for jeans that will fit my butt, for tops that are cute and springy and not stained with curry, for clothes.

Which is to say that I am totally unoriginal, and I’m also waiting for a super-cute coat I ordered from Jessica London to show up. But I don’t know if it will fit. Argh!