After submitting to the awesome-sounding new projecting UnReal Women, I received the following email:
Thank you kindly for your contribution. Sadly due to an overwhelming amount of ignorance, bigotry and hatred aimed in my direction, I have decided to close the project.
I wish you well and hope to see your piece published elsewhere.
All I have to say about that is :(.
It was such a good idea, and it’s sad to see it derailed by hatred before it even began.
People can be such douchemuffins sometimes.
Yeah, I’m wearing leggings as pants. You got a problem with that?
The deeper I get into the fa(t)shion world, the more I come across examples of fashion judging and policing, even within spaces that are explicitly body-positive.
It pisses me off immensely. First, because one person’s style is no one’s business but their own. Period. Second, because it’s inextricably tied up with pretty much every prejudice under the sun: sexism, ableism, ageism, racism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia…
Warning: epic rant ahead.
Lesley Kinzel and Doug Barry have said pretty everything that needs to be said about Psychology Today’s latest piece of ridiculousness: a now-deleted post whining about how tragic it is that there are fat women in grocery stores, and how this must be because their male partners don’t give them enough sexual attention. Because all women are straight and partnered. And because, somehow, sex causes weight loss. (Even under a fat-negative paradigm, that doesn’t make any sense.) And because women in grocery stores are there for the viewing pleasure of random dudes–not for, you know, acquiring groceries.
All I have to say is, fuck that noise.
I don’t like the idea that strangers might be judging me when I go shopping, but what can you do? It’s their problem that they’re judgmental asshats, not mine.
So here I am, in my favorite pink leopard sweatpants. Which I live in on winter weekends, fashion rules be damned. It’s cold, and I like to be comfortable. (Yes, I can occasionally be seen wearing these pants with a brown leopard print hoodie. What can I say–that’s what happens when you’re lazy and grab the two most comfortable items of clothing you can find.)
Proudly fat, sweatpants-clad, and sparkly
Take that, Stephen J. Betchen. Not only am I going to keep enjoying my life and relationship, contrary to what you think is possible for fat women, but I’m going to keep going grocery shopping in my sweatpants. AVERT YOUR EYES.
Spotted on two different subway cars today:
There’s an apple on my head.
As an apple-shaped lady,* I was really glad to see this post about the protective properties of belly fat.
There’s so much noise about the evils of abdominal fat–it eats puppies and kittens for breakfast, steals purses from old ladies, and makes the baby Jesus cry. These breathless reports are almost always accompanied by headless fatty pictures, as if to say, “If you look like this, you’re doomed! Also, too ugly to show your face.”
It’s good to finally see evidence that belly fat–just like almost any other physical characteristic–has positive as well as negative associations (none of which, btw, are destiny). Continue reading