Dear CNN, you suck. March 17, 2011

I don’t pay much attention to the news, mostly because I find it sensationalistic and misleading and depressing. In order to avoid complete oblivion to the world around me, I have two news feeds on my iGoogle page – CNN and the BBC. I find I generally prefer the BBC, mainly for its lack of bullshit and its balanced coverage of events worldwide, not just the US. Today I made the mistake of clicking on a linked headline called “The Moments That Make us Fat”, which took me to this story.

Warning: If you are going to click on that link, make sure you are well stocked on Sanity Watchers points. If you are going to read the comments, make sure you are also well stocked on rum and fat hate bingo cards. Better yet, don’t read the comments. You’ve been warned.

If we were to play a fat sterotype drinking game, everyone involved would be passed out before we even got past the picture that accompanies the article. (FTR, I refuse to refer to this as a news story, because it ain’t.) Hey, it’s a fat guy! And he’s watching TV! (drink) He’s got an unreasonably huge bowl of some snack food! (drink) He’s all slovenly! (drink) He’s in a recliner with a remote control! (drink) He’s all alone in a sad little bare apartment! (drink)

Ok, maybe not everyone would be in the floor at this point, but I would be. I’m a lightweight, pun intended.

If you can get past the picture to the text, you will soon discover that Elizabeth Cohen, Senior medical correspondent for CNN, has apparently been using exclusively ladymags from the past 50 years as source material, because she proceeds to trot out every dated diet “tip” that every person who has ever dieted, or been criticized for her weight, or has been, y’know, awake for the past 20 years has heard approximately 5.37 x 10⁵⁸ times. She suggests eating a snack before you go to a party, or using a small bowl if you are going to eat a snack in front of the TV, or getting a to-go box in a restaurant and dividing your entrée before you start eating. There’s a lot of babble about “willpower” and being “good”. She advises sitting with your back to the buffet, or better yet, not going to buffets at all, since we all know that us fatties can’t resist unlimited overcooked cheap meat and greasy green beans and iceberg lettuce. Pretty much the only folk advice for fatties she doesn’t mention is the bit about the best exercise being pushing yourself away from the table.

Seriously , did anyone read this article and think “Eureka! My problems are solved! I shall be fat no mooooooore!” ? I doubt it, given that there is nothing in this article that hasn’t been said a thousand times before, and these little jems of wisdom do not become less asinine upon retelling.

The theme of the piece, of course, is that fat people are fat because we have all somehow misunderstood the dubious truism that overeating (being “bad”), and only that is what makes you fat, an assumption that excludes individual biochemistry, genetics, and a thousand other factors that contribute to body composition. I am not sure if TBTB at CNN think this reductionism is necessary because they assume that their readership is profoundly stupid (another unfortunate fat people sterotype), or if it was just a slow news day and they asked Ms. Cohen, who I assume must have some level of journalistic skill to be employed by CNN, to throw something together and the product was this tripe. Either way, it’s a sad day for American journalism when this passes as news.

I haven’t deleted your feed yet, CNN, because you still annoy me less than every other news organization besides the BBC. But keep this up, and I might just have to find a new widget. On a side note, thanks to this post I learned how to code superscript in html, so go me!

So Target hates fat people. Who knew? July 30, 2010

I love many things. I love all kinds of music, and the way I feel when I bellydance, and looking at the sky floating on my back in a body of water. I love to laugh. I love my baby nephews and the awesome assorted tiny children that have been produced by my friends. I love Morris Kantor’s abstract work, and live theatre, and rain.

And until tonight, I loved Target.

I am singing in a wedding next weekend, and I felt the occasion deserved a new dress. So this evening, when I ventured to Target in pursuit of several necessities, I thought I would take a look to see if I could find anything I liked.

I did. It was adorable, and I could wear it to work, and it looked great on me. I was very excited. It was a little pricier than I liked, but it appeared to be totally worth it.

On my way to a different part of the store I passed through the “normal” size clothes, and saw the same dress hanging there. It is rare for Target to have the same item in straight and plus sizes at the same time, and now I know why. It’s a really good way for Target to disguise the fact that they discriminate against fat people.

See, the plus size dress I was going to buy was a full 50% more expensive than the straight size dress.

That’s FIFTY percent, in case you missed it.

I am fat, and I love clothes. These two factors, combined with my ability to, y’know, read, mean I know a little bit about the plus-size fashion industry. I know, for example, that clothing makers can’t just make straight size patterns bigger, plus size lines require their own fit models and pattern makers, and yes, plus size clothes require a bit more fabric. So a little markup, I understand. Ten percent. Even twenty. I wouldn’t like it, but it would make sense.

Fifty percent? That’s just price gouging. The sad thing is, they do it because they can.

I live in a smallish town. Outside the internet, there are maybe ten stores where plus size women can buy clothes. Even in larger cities, the options for plus-size shopping are far from abundant. So the fact that Target carries plus sizes at all is good. The fact that they are usually reasonably attractive and well made (for mass market clothing) is better. Being able to buy a t-shirt that fits me is kind of a big deal, something that straight size people don’t always understand.

I guess I should have seen it coming — after all, despite the fact that about 50% of women in the US wear plus sizes, the section in Target containing those clothes is about 1/6 the size of the so-called normal section. There are generally no plus sizes at all in lingerie or sleepwear. I should not be surprised at this. But I am, and a little sick too. I know Target is not perfect, but I have been pretty happy with what I have seen and read about them as a corporation — how they treat their employees, their customer service, their corporate policies. It makes me sad that Target has consumed the fat-hate kool-aid along with so many other, and instead of seeing an opportunity to fairly serve a huge market (no pun intended), they are taking advantage of their position as one of the few providers of decent plus-size clothes to screw over the members of said market.

So Target, it looks like it’s time to break up. I still love you, but you clearly don’t love me back. Call me if you ever decide to pull your head out of your ass, and maybe we can talk about getting back together.

I’ve changed my mind. February 16, 2010

Today hasn’t been such a hot day, self-esteem wise, thanks in part to the whole Kevin Smith/ Southwest assholes story. I know it’s a few days old, but I’m always a little behind the curve when it comes to news. It’s not so much the news stories that get me — the whole thing was unfortunate, and while I am sorry that Kevin had to go through that experience, I am a little bit thankful that the humiliation that nearly every person who has dared to fly while fat has felt has been brought into the public eye. The stories I have read have been for the most part well-written, unbiased, and factual. The problem isn’t the story, the problem is the comments, and more than that, the people behind them.

I realize that it’s partly my own fault. I should know by now that any story about fat people is going to attract more than its fair share of hateful trolls who wouldn’t know logical thinking if it walked up and did a line dance on their face. I shouldn’t read the comments. But this time I did. I think I somehow believed that this time would be different. This would be the time when, thanks to the fact that not only is the story about a real live person, not hypothetical headless fatties, but that person is well known and popular, the hate and contempt would be, if not absent altogether, at least kept to a minimum.

I was very wrong.

If anything, the comments on this particular issue have been worse than the normal parade of ugly. I am not talking about the fat-people-on airplanes debate. There are valid arguments on both sides of that particular issue, and I respect everyone’s right to hold and defend their opinion. If you think Southwest done Keven Smith wrong, great. If you think the policy in question is great, then, as Voltaire would put it, “I do not agree with a word you say, but I will fight to the death for your right to say it”. The problem here isn’t one of opinions or logic, the problem is the vicious evil being spewed on every website I’ve read.

The comments I have seen break down along these lines. For every well reasoned post about the actual issue at hand, there are also:
-three saying something incredibly bigoted and ignorant along the line of “all fat people are gross/smelly/stupid/the root of all evil”
– one vaguely well-meaning fake concerned “fat people aren’t healthy!”, which is not only debatable but also completely irrelevant to the issue at hand, since last I checked there was no policy about only letting healthy people on planes
-one along the lines of “fat people are the absolute most horrific plague ever to trouble the Earth and should be lined up like cattle and shot”.

I really wish I was making this up. I’m not.

Y’all, I’m not gonna lie. It really sucks to know that there are a whole lot of people out there who have never met me who, based solely on my appearance, think I am disgusting and that I don’t deserve to be treated with basic human dignity, or that I even deserve to exist.

I don’t understand it. I can’t comprehend that kind of hate. I can’t fathom the mind that looks at ONE characteristic, an aesthetic one at that, and determines that anyone with that particular characteristic is utterly without value. I’ve seen it, I know its there, but it gets me every. single. time. Call me naive, call me overly innocent, call me too sensitive or stupid even, but every comment hits me at a personal level, because it is, in fact, personal. When someone says that all fatties are lazy stupid morons that can’t put down the Twinkies, they are talking about ME. Nevermind that I’ve never even tasted a Twinkie. Nevermind that I work my ass off and am pretty much freaking brilliant and really nice, if slightly odd. If that person were to ever meet me, my actual accomplishments, work ethic, intelligence, or personality would not matter one good damn to them, because they have already decided that they know everything they need to about me based on my pants size.

When I started writing this I was feeling pretty down. Weepy even. I’m still sad, but now it’s over something else. I’m not so much sad for myself as for those people who have willfully chosen to live in hate and ignorance and bigotry. As much as it sucks to be the victim of that hate, in the long run I think it must suck a lot more to be the one peddling it. I’m glad I don’t understand. I hope I never do. Maybe instead of being sad that it hurts when I encounter one of those hateful people, I’ll be thankful for the pain, because maybe if it still hurts it means I haven’t become one of them.

A change in the beholder’s eye August 2, 2009

In February of 2007 I bought my first home. I love it. It was built in 1949 and it only had one owner before me. It is built like a fortress and is perched on top of a hill that gives me a fantastic view of the neighborhood and the trees beyond. I can see the fireworks from the city baseball stadium from my bedroom window. It is a tiny dollhouse of a place and it is perfect for me, in all but one way. Closet space.

I guess in the 40’s people didn’t have very many clothes, because the closets in this house are abysmally teeny. So, among the first things I did when I moved in was convert the office off the living room into a closet. I have no need of an office — my laptop lives mostly in my lap, and goodness knows I needed the closet space. I have a lot of clothes. Of 180 school days last year, I only repeated an outfit maybe 30 times, and that was mostly due to 6am-I-just-need-to-get-to-work-I-don’t-care-what-I-wear-this-early laziness. I have, on occasion, entertained a bit of guilt over the volume of clothes I own, but I figure that everyone has their thing — some people have dogs, some race cars, some produce offspring — I dance and play with clothes. Now I have a fantastic 10×6 closet.

Now for the shameful confession portion of this post — I moved 30 months ago and I still have unpacked boxes. A lot of them, actually. I am ridiculously lazy, and I have wondrous don’t wanna do it skills. Tonight I got inspired to unpack some boxes, namely the ones full of clothes still sitting in my closet. If I haven’t worn it in 2 1/2 years, I probably need to rid myself of it, right?

Mostly right, as it turns out. I now have a huge pile of clothes to give away, but I did manage to find a few things that I had been looking for or wondering about, and a few more things I had completely forgotten about but fell back in love with as soon as I saw them.

The past few years have involved some pretty profound changes for me, not the least of which are a major shift in how I see myself and how I feel about my body. There were quite a few things I tried on tonight that didn’t fit, and quite a lot that I can remember buying as “motivation” items — that thing so many of us do where we buy something too small as an incentive to lose weight, as if we aren’t good enough for pretty clothes as we are right now, but we can earn that right by being thinner. Such disordered, destructive behavior, that. There were also, sadly, quite a few things I bought because I loved them but never wore because of shame — not shame about the clothes, but shame about the body wearing them.

The whole unpacking-sorting-clothes process involved quite a bit of trying on, which any woman, fat or thin, can tell you can be a harrowing experience. We are all so disposed to blame our bodies when clothes don’t fit, instead of just moving on to another item. That’s why I was surprised to find that this evening’s clothes-fest was not only remarkably sane (no crying, no self-recrimination, no shame), it was actually fun. I have some awesome clothes y’all, and the whole process made me excited at the prospect of a new school year and a new 180 days to try and not repeat an outfit. I looked at myself in some of those things I was so ashamed about long ago and thought, “damn, that looks awesome!” Here’s the kicker — I am fatter now than I was when I bought a lot of that stuff. Not a lot fatter, they still fit, but fatter nonetheless. Sane, happy clothes trying-on. Who knew such a thing existed?

There is one discouraging thing though. Now I have to go put all my re-found beautiful clothes away. Wonder how I can put that off?

But is there really more to love? August 1, 2009

I just got around to watching More to Love — yes, I realize it has been a few days since it aired, I’ve been busy, plus, I was not so sure I wanted to watch it. I haven’t been so thrilled with some of the snippets from the teasers. I don’t like the term “normal women” being used to describe fat women, as if thinner women aren’t normal. I despise the forced us vs. them mentality of fat and thin women, when the reality is that women exist in a whole continuum of sizes and shapes and body types, and the ad campaign’s size 4 vs. size 14 shtick played on that artificial division. There were lots of reasons I didn’t want to watch, but after hearing the comments of some friends and reading Lesley’s recap on Fatshionista, I sucked it up and watched.

I will confess I was a little afraid. I am a fat single woman, and for about 20 years of my life I suffered under crushing self-hatred, not just because of my size, but that was a factor. The thought that “no one will ever love me because I’m fat” is one with which I am well familiar. Although I did go to a couple of formal dances in high school, I didn’t go to my prom (I have been to 6 since then, it’s so much more fun as a chaperone), and of course I was sure it was because I was fat. Then again, if I were to catalog and post all the things I have blamed on my fat, the sheer volume would crash these here interwebz. Fat is such a handy scapegoat. I have actually sometimes wondered what thin girls irrationally blame their problems on. Come to think of it, they probably blame their bodies too, since American women are conditioned from birth to believe they aren’t thin/pretty/sexy/otherwise attractive enough. So I was a little nervous about watching because, despite the fact that I no longer suffer with self-hatred, and I have called bullshit in my own life on so many of the lies about being a fat woman, there is always the possibility that something will take me back to that time. When a friend asked me if I was going to watch, my response was “I’ll probably cry a lot”.

My fears were unfounded.

I’ve never watched dating “reality” shows, with the exception of some Bachelor/Bachelorette viewing parties hosted by friends, and I mostly attended those for the same reasons I go to playdates despite having no children — to hang out with people I enjoy and drink wine. Ok, so there’s no wine at playdates, more’s the pity. The point, though, is that I don’t watch dating shows. They are not my style. My DVR is filled with teen soaps like Gossip Girl and old episodes of Star Trek. I don’t do reality TV. This was my first foray, and so I have no idea of my observations about MtL are standard on this sort of show or not. Feel free to enlighten me.

I’ll start with what I liked. The dresses. Oh, the dresses. I want them, I want them all. I actually looked on Fox’s website to see if they had any info on the dresses. They don’t. The girls were all beautiful, and they were portrayed in a pretty positive light, particularly for TV.

I started with what I liked because it was shorter. Now for the stuff I didn’t like.

From the beginning I was struck by how silly all the women seemed to be. I understand that they may have just been edited to look that way, but I saw very little of substance. The way I see it, they all had the opportunity to meet 19 other potentially fabulous women. Obviously you don’t spill your guts to strangers, and yeah, yeah, let’s meet the guy too, but I seriously would have been putting together an email list and talking about where to buy clothes. For most fat women, connecting with other fat women is hard, and so I would hate to pass up the chance to have so many on one room. Once again, I know they could have been doing that too and it just wasn’t shown, but it mostly looked like they were talking about how desperate they were to be picked and swooning over “his eyes!” giggle giggle.

That brings me to another observation — the desperation. In so many of the interviews, the girls talked about how this was their only chance, how they just wanted to find love, how they couldn’t believe he was being nice to them, how great it was that he was willing to “look past” their appearance, etc, etc, ad nauseum. The whole ring thing blew my mind too — they all seemed to act as if it were an engagement ring or something. I know we all love sparkly jewelry, but it’s the same ring he gave to 19 other women, and I am pretty sure the show’s producers picked up the tab.

Look ladies, desperation is nobody’s friend, except for maybe the skeezy guys who are looking to take advantage of you. It’s fine, and normal, to want to find love, but in the meantime, have some self-respect. This guy is not the only one on the planet, this isn’t your “last chance”, and really, do you want to be with someone who just “looks past” your appearance? A good relationship is one in which a guy loves all of you, including your body, and dismissing appearance altogether is just as bad as dating someone just because of how they look.

Here’s another fact to remember: Yeah, dating sucks for fat girls, but dating sucks for everyone. For every fat girl crying about being alone, there is a thin girl crying about the same thing, and 3 medium sized girls. Attraction and love are about so much more than the way you look, and have a heck of a lot to do with luck, and being alone doesn’t mean there is something fundamentally wrong with you — maybe it means you should enjoy the perks of being alone.

Remember the skeezy guy I mentioned earlier? The one taking advantage of desperation? Well, as sweet-sparkly-eyed-cuddly-teddy-bear-y as he may be, I am greatly afeared that Mr. Luke is one of ’em. I actually liked the guy until he used the whole “you know, I have to cut five people tonight” tactic to get one of the girls to kiss him. After that I pretty much wanted to kick him in his neck. We’ll see how it goes, but I predict a lot more of those sort of tactics in the future, just like the guy in high school who told you he would dump you if you didn’t do whatever it was he wanted you to do that you knew you weren’t ready for. That guy wasn’t worth your time then, and he still isn’t.

I didn’t cry the way I feared I might. I yelled at the TV a few times though, and there were some things that made me sad, not for myself, but for the women on the show who seem so fragile. I want to have them all over and hug them and tell them that it will all be ok, and that the key to being happier is to love and accept themselves as they are, man or no man.

So the jury is still out on this one. I am going to keep watching, if for no other reason, to see if my predictions about Mr. Sparkly Eyes are true. I am also curious about some of the women — Bonnie, for instance, with the rockin’ hair and tattoo — I think we could be bffs. We’ll see how it goes. In the meantime, if anyone wants to get me those dresses, I will love you forever.

Pure Energy at Target — a review April 30, 2009

Tomorrow is Relay for Life, and tonight I went to Target with every intention of buying mouthwash and band-aids and breath mints and breakfast bars in preparation. I had no plan to buy any clothes. But on a whim I wondered back to the plus size section and, lo and behold, there’s the new line I heard about just yesterday. The new line is called Pure Energy, and I will confess that when I initially heard about it I was skeptical. As a true clothing aficionado (aka “Holy crap, how many clothes do you HAVE?!?) I felt it was my responsibility, my obligation even, to do a little test drive.

The good…
-The clothes are cute. Really, sincerely cute — not as conservative as LB, not as edgy as Torrid. They are very Target-trendy.

-The prices are AWESOME. Half the price of LB for comparable items.

-There is a reasonable selection of different items, for Target at least. I still wish they would stop the rapid encroachment of maternity on the plus section, but it was better than it has been in the past.

– Some of the items seemed to be pretty good quality. This is just initial observation though, I haven’t worn or washed anything yet.

– The sizing seemed reasonably accurate. Often Target items run small in my experience, but these sizes were pretty true. They use a Torrid-style 1/2/3/4 sizing system, which I personally like, although I could see it being confusing for some people. Other items are more traditional number sizes.

The not-so-good…
-The quality on some items was terrible. We’re talking sleazy polyester and poorly sewn sequins.

-There was not a great size selection. In most items there were plenty of 1s and 2s, a few 3s, and one 4, if that. This is pretty typical of Target, at least my store.

-Some items seemed poorly designed for large women — lots of empire waists without enough booby room, for example. I am 5’6” and wear a 26, and while everything fit, the items I tried were about 30/70 on design. That will differ considerably by individual though, obviously.

-There were many, many sleeveless tops and dresses. This is my biggest concern. I have no problem going sleeveless, but I am in the minority among women, even thin ones. Just today I had a conversation with a co-worker about how she “doesn’t do sleeveless”. I really hope Target has not doomed their new line by putting so many sleeveless pieces in. I can see the clothes not selling well just because of women’s upper-arm insecurity, and then Target deciding that there is not an adequate market for the product and pulling it. It would not be the first time something like that has happened *cough* OldNavy *cough*, after all.

Overall, I am pretty psyched. Pretty clothes for pretty fatties — yay! Now if only I could help my co-worker love her arms. Oh well, one fight at a time.

Right this minute, hell is freezing over. March 29, 2009

Today I went on a search for brown capri pants. I did not find any.

However.

I found a bathing suit. It fits me, it contains the rack of doom without the use of an evil underwire, and it is neither black nor brown nor blue — the holy trinity of fat girl bathing suits — in fact, it is all sorts of fun swirly colors. Top, bottom, and little skirt (cuz I love the little miniskirt bathing suit look), all for $60. On top of that, they had lots of stuff on ridiculous clearance. It was a good day to be a Target shopper.

Reason number 2 –I cooked. I tell you, right now it is very chilly in the underworld.

Read, and heard, and thought today. March 25, 2009

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
-Maryanne Williamson
Used by Nelson Mandela in his 1994 inaugural speech (maybe)

“Don’t be too fat, or too thin, or too dark, or too light; don’t be too sexual, or too chaste, or too smart, or too dumb. Be yourself. But make sure you fit in.”
Anna, One Tree Hill, Truth, Bitter Truth

It is easy to believe that we are not enough. Not thin enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough or talented enough. Our houses aren’t clean enough, our clothes aren’t right, our earring are too big or too small or not expensive enough, our teeth are funny looking. Our dreams and desires and the secret hopes of our hearts can’t possibly come true, why would they, as inadequate as we are.

There are those in the world whose whole existence is devoted to keeping the rest of us bound in our own insecurities and fears, and, just in case our own aren’t enough, they pile on more we never thought of.

This is, of course, all lies.

If you read this post, this is my challenge to you: today, if only for one minute of your day, defy the lies. Live the truth. Be yourself, and be enough.

Then if you want to, tell your story. I want to hear it.

Feast of the Annunciation

Ave Maria, gratia plena,
Dominus tecum,
benedicta tu in mulieribus,
et benedictus fructus ventris tui Iesus.
Sancta Maria mater Dei,
ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae.
Amen

The unnecessary hatemongering March 22, 2009

According to the New York Times, the Obamas are planting a garden in the south lawn.

I find this a fabulous idea. Almost everyone, no matter their body composition, could benefit from eating more fresh foods. Gardening is awesome, even if I personally suck at it. I love that the presidential family is encouraging other people to grow their own food. They are going to be raising bees too. I hope they get chickens as well and have fresh eggs. This whole thing makes me so happy that I am tempted to try raising vegetables again, despite my failure to grow anything for the past 5 or so years.

My question — in an article about something that has so many positives, why oh why even mention the dreaded OMG FATZ plus DIABEETUS?

Oh, because the media had all been drinking the fat-hate kool-aid. Made with organically grown sugar, of course.

For example, this passage:

While the organic garden will provide food for the first family’s meals and formal dinners, its most important role, Mrs. Obama said, will be to educate children about healthful, locally grown fruit and vegetables at a time when obesity and diabetes have become a national concern.

It would have been just as effective like this:

While the organic garden will provide food for the first family’s meals and formal dinners, its most important role, Mrs. Obama said, will be to educate children about healthful, locally grown fruit and vegetables at a time when many families eat too much processed and convenience food.

Or this one:

The first lady, who said that she had never had a vegetable garden, recalled that the idea for this one came from her experiences as a working mother trying to feed her daughters, Malia and Sasha, a good diet. Eating out three times a week, ordering a pizza, having a sandwich for dinner all took their toll in added weight on the girls, whose pediatrician told Mrs. Obama that she needed to be thinking about nutrition.

“He raised a flag for us,” she said, and within months the girls had lost weight.

like this instead:

The first lady, who said that she had never had a vegetable garden, recalled that the idea for this one came from her experiences as a working mother trying to feed her daughters, Malia and Sasha, a good diet. Eating out three times a week, ordering a pizza, having a sandwich for dinner all took their toll on the girls, whose pediatrician told Mrs. Obama that she needed to be thinking about nutrition.

“He raised a flag for us,” she said, and within months the girls were feeling healthier.

It’s really not that hard to make articles like this about HEALTH, not WEIGHT. I really want to believe that Michelle Obama cares about improving Americans’ health. I desperately want to believe it. That’s why it breaks my heart to see a story as positive as this one taking something so good and totally missing the point.