Since Monday night, when I watched Lauren Greenfield's documentary Thin, my mind and heart have been heavy. I can't stop thinking about the characters and their heartbreaking stories. I can't stop thinking about eating disorders, body image and mental health, and how those things relate to my life and my struggle with being fat.
I was relieved today to read the following on Greenfield's website, which states what I've desperately been trying to summarize in my head for the past four days.
"[Eating disorders] are not simply about food or body image or self-esteem, but a tangle of personal, familial, cultural and mental health issues."
The film captures this notion without handing it to you on a silver platter, which I'm sure is why I struggled with a definition. It's also why I think it's a great documentary.
Do watch it if you get a chance. If nothing else, check out Greenfield's website. She produced a book of photography in conjunction with the film, and she has a small portfolio of those photographs posted.
01 June 2007
12 April 2007
Size-positive dancing = fun
Wouldn't it be cool if there were a fat version of the Pussycat Dolls? I'm fully sucked in to Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search for the Next Doll, eventhough I don't actually like the Pussycat Dolls (the girl group version anyhow, whereas the original burlesque stage show was cool). It's good times watching the contestants develop the songs and dances they're assigned to each week.
San Francisco, CA, and Boston, MA, actually do have hip-hop dance troupes for fat girls, known as the Phat Fly Girls. I heard about them several years ago and it looks like Big Moves has since added a modern dance troupe, called Mass Movement. Cool!
A couple years ago I was stopped on my way out of a restaurant by two zaftig women asking if I was interested in doing burlesque. They said they thought I had a good look for it and gave me their (post)card, for Big Burlesque. Aww!
And who the heck isn't charmed by The Devil-ettes? Most of their dancers are not zaftig, but they're a size-positive troupe in general. They're actually auditioning right now, if you're interested! Here's page, if you're interested.
Lastly, an honorable mention to The Cock-T's, who I found out about via the Devil-ette's MySpace profile. They don't purport to be size-positive or anything... they just look like they're having a good time.
San Francisco, CA, and Boston, MA, actually do have hip-hop dance troupes for fat girls, known as the Phat Fly Girls. I heard about them several years ago and it looks like Big Moves has since added a modern dance troupe, called Mass Movement. Cool!
A couple years ago I was stopped on my way out of a restaurant by two zaftig women asking if I was interested in doing burlesque. They said they thought I had a good look for it and gave me their (post)card, for Big Burlesque. Aww!
And who the heck isn't charmed by The Devil-ettes? Most of their dancers are not zaftig, but they're a size-positive troupe in general. They're actually auditioning right now, if you're interested! Here's page, if you're interested.
Lastly, an honorable mention to The Cock-T's, who I found out about via the Devil-ette's MySpace profile. They don't purport to be size-positive or anything... they just look like they're having a good time.
16 March 2007
Pigs, fat or not
My friend Koly and her theatre company just finished a local run of the new-ish Broadway play, Fat Pig. She played Helen, the lead female, the "fat pig". She was great!
Fat Pig is about Helen meeting a conservative Wall Street broker type, Tom, who is into her but has a hard time admitting it to his shallow friends. When he does, he gets the standard frat boy reaming but sticks to his guns and defends his attraction to Helen. While they're happy together, she eventually has to confront him about having never met or hung out with his friends, and about how he always wants to stay in rather than go out on the town (subtext: and be seen with her). Tom assuages her fears but shortly thereafter realizes he can't stand up to the mocking of his friends or his own ability to be okay with dating a fat chick. The final scene of the play, in which he breaks up with her at his company picnic, is meant to say that she might be a pig in body but he's a pig at heart. Helen is, of course, heart broken and breaks down in tears.
I'd heard quite a bit about the play when it first came out on Broadway, because cute-but-zaftig-no-longer Sara Rue premiered the part of Helen. In fact, if you click the above link for her IMDB profile, you'll see just how not-fat she is now. And while you're there, get a load of the Message Boards at the bottom of the page. Gotta love the first message entitled, "WOW! She got hot!" Whatever, pig. Girl looks like she's starving now. It's unfortunate because I thought she was absolutely gorgeous as a zaftig redhead.
Given all I'd heard about the play, I didn't think it would be startling. Little did I know the shock and horror would creep up on me in the days after I saw it. The more I thought about it, the more Helen reminded me of myself at a very weak point in my life, when I had a crushing crush on a coworker who would only show me attention, some of it sexual in nature, when we were alone together.
Helen is supposed to be "bright, funny and sexy". I certainly tried to be those things for my coworker crush, but felt completely adrift and worthless on the inside. I'm always suspicious of male writers writing about female characters, but doubly so here. I wondered if the author, Neil LaBute, really knew where to go with Helen. I kept thinking, "if she's so bright, funny and sexy, then why doesn't she dump his ass?" Well, for the same reason I refused to kick my coworker habit. Inside Helen is some sort of struggle between self worth and wanting to be loved, and as a human, fat or not, it's not too hard to infer that. I kinda wish LaBute would have chosen to convey that struggle rather than Helen being a sexy confident woman out of the starting gates only to metamorphize into a heartbroken mess at the finish line, with very little grey area in between.
Doesn't sound like it but I'm commending Neil LaBute and the script, actually. IMHO, good art is provacative and opaque, and has you thinking about it, decoding, well after you've encountered it. Fat Pig stands up to my definition and then some. The only reason the lack of transparency around Helen's internal struggle irks me is because it's too real. I know a lot of strong and confident women, but they aren't necessarily strong and confident in every aspect of their lives, and in most cases they fear admitting that. There's no reason Helen is any different just because she's fat. In media, fat people are often portrayed as vulnerable just by virtue of being fat, so it's actually kind of refreshing that Helen came off as armoured.
On a completely different note, I had a funny moment during the play. To my horror, Koly utilized a sundress I bought in 1997 to portray Helen in the company picnic scene. I bought it online from a former zaftig MTV VJ who had a small line of plus-size clothing, and whose name I can't remember for the life of me. (Abby something?) I coveted that dress for about a year before I could afford it. It was like $75 without shipping/handling! When the package finally arrived, I tore it open and tried on the dress... and it was the most heinous piece of crap I've put on my body to this day. The print was fierce, two little red cherries on a green stem, set against a white background. The cut was disasterous. I can't even describe it to you or else I'll go into convulsions. In fact, when I saw it on stage, I had to avert my eyes. When we greeted Koly after the show, she did the Church Lady dance and said in mocking tone, "Remember this dress?"
It's an evening, and a dress, I won't forget for a long time.
Fat Pig is about Helen meeting a conservative Wall Street broker type, Tom, who is into her but has a hard time admitting it to his shallow friends. When he does, he gets the standard frat boy reaming but sticks to his guns and defends his attraction to Helen. While they're happy together, she eventually has to confront him about having never met or hung out with his friends, and about how he always wants to stay in rather than go out on the town (subtext: and be seen with her). Tom assuages her fears but shortly thereafter realizes he can't stand up to the mocking of his friends or his own ability to be okay with dating a fat chick. The final scene of the play, in which he breaks up with her at his company picnic, is meant to say that she might be a pig in body but he's a pig at heart. Helen is, of course, heart broken and breaks down in tears.
I'd heard quite a bit about the play when it first came out on Broadway, because cute-but-zaftig-no-longer Sara Rue premiered the part of Helen. In fact, if you click the above link for her IMDB profile, you'll see just how not-fat she is now. And while you're there, get a load of the Message Boards at the bottom of the page. Gotta love the first message entitled, "WOW! She got hot!" Whatever, pig. Girl looks like she's starving now. It's unfortunate because I thought she was absolutely gorgeous as a zaftig redhead.
Given all I'd heard about the play, I didn't think it would be startling. Little did I know the shock and horror would creep up on me in the days after I saw it. The more I thought about it, the more Helen reminded me of myself at a very weak point in my life, when I had a crushing crush on a coworker who would only show me attention, some of it sexual in nature, when we were alone together.
Helen is supposed to be "bright, funny and sexy". I certainly tried to be those things for my coworker crush, but felt completely adrift and worthless on the inside. I'm always suspicious of male writers writing about female characters, but doubly so here. I wondered if the author, Neil LaBute, really knew where to go with Helen. I kept thinking, "if she's so bright, funny and sexy, then why doesn't she dump his ass?" Well, for the same reason I refused to kick my coworker habit. Inside Helen is some sort of struggle between self worth and wanting to be loved, and as a human, fat or not, it's not too hard to infer that. I kinda wish LaBute would have chosen to convey that struggle rather than Helen being a sexy confident woman out of the starting gates only to metamorphize into a heartbroken mess at the finish line, with very little grey area in between.
Doesn't sound like it but I'm commending Neil LaBute and the script, actually. IMHO, good art is provacative and opaque, and has you thinking about it, decoding, well after you've encountered it. Fat Pig stands up to my definition and then some. The only reason the lack of transparency around Helen's internal struggle irks me is because it's too real. I know a lot of strong and confident women, but they aren't necessarily strong and confident in every aspect of their lives, and in most cases they fear admitting that. There's no reason Helen is any different just because she's fat. In media, fat people are often portrayed as vulnerable just by virtue of being fat, so it's actually kind of refreshing that Helen came off as armoured.
On a completely different note, I had a funny moment during the play. To my horror, Koly utilized a sundress I bought in 1997 to portray Helen in the company picnic scene. I bought it online from a former zaftig MTV VJ who had a small line of plus-size clothing, and whose name I can't remember for the life of me. (Abby something?) I coveted that dress for about a year before I could afford it. It was like $75 without shipping/handling! When the package finally arrived, I tore it open and tried on the dress... and it was the most heinous piece of crap I've put on my body to this day. The print was fierce, two little red cherries on a green stem, set against a white background. The cut was disasterous. I can't even describe it to you or else I'll go into convulsions. In fact, when I saw it on stage, I had to avert my eyes. When we greeted Koly after the show, she did the Church Lady dance and said in mocking tone, "Remember this dress?"
It's an evening, and a dress, I won't forget for a long time.
15 March 2007
Hair powder: wow!
[Preface: I'm posting this because hair issues are universal. Or maybe I just want to shout from yet another rooftop because my enthusiam knows no boundaries.]
Omigawd, who the hell knew that hair powder actually worked? Bumble and bumble, I love you! More than usual! Which is saying a lot, actually, given that I use approximately eight of your hair products on a regular basis!
I used it for the first time this morning, when I was running too late to work to be able to condition and blow-dry effectively. It comes out in a blast so strong that I thought the stream of powder was going to bore through my scalp. Note to self: take their clever instruction of "Keep your distance! 10-12 inches at least!" seriously.
After a thorough spritz on the greasiest portions of my hair, I brushed it through and VOILA! My hair looked clean once again. In fact, maybe I will never wash my head again.
Not only does it dry cleanse, but it creates a bit 'o' volume on fine hair due to the added texture, and apparently you can also use it for "no slip updo's".
Bumble and bumble hair powder, you are my bitch lover.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.
Omigawd, who the hell knew that hair powder actually worked? Bumble and bumble, I love you! More than usual! Which is saying a lot, actually, given that I use approximately eight of your hair products on a regular basis!
I used it for the first time this morning, when I was running too late to work to be able to condition and blow-dry effectively. It comes out in a blast so strong that I thought the stream of powder was going to bore through my scalp. Note to self: take their clever instruction of "Keep your distance! 10-12 inches at least!" seriously.
After a thorough spritz on the greasiest portions of my hair, I brushed it through and VOILA! My hair looked clean once again. In fact, maybe I will never wash my head again.
Not only does it dry cleanse, but it creates a bit 'o' volume on fine hair due to the added texture, and apparently you can also use it for "no slip updo's".
Bumble and bumble hair powder, you are my bitch lover.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.
24 January 2007
On being attractive
Spring semester just started at the college campus where I've worked for seven years, and prior to that attended for five. When I was single, I was always eager to check out the new crop of guys at the start of each semester. I'm coupled now and it takes a pretty special and/or hot guy to catch my eye, but I still scan. I admit it.
As I was cruising through the hallway to the restroom this afternoon, I saw a chubby schlubby indie guy talking to an obviously pretty indie girl. I was flooded with memories of pursuing that kind of dude when I was single. I always liked the obviously cute indie guys, but I pursued the chubby schlubby ones because I thought I had more of a chance. The cruel truth was that I had as little or even less of a chance than I did with the obviously cute variety. That took years to figure out. In fact, when I wrote my personal ad for Craigslist, the one that led me to Honey Bunny, I had a very hard time deciding whether to add "cute" to the list of traits I was looking for in a guy. Mostly, I felt like I didn't deserve to have "cute". Thankfully, in the end, I did include it. (Honey Bunny is hella cute!)
This "cute" thing is all about self worth. I had to feel worthy of being someone's mate in order to actually get one, and part of feeling worthy is feeling attractive. There were plenty of times when I didn't respond to personal ads that I liked, based only on the advertiser saying he was seeking someone pretty/cute/beautiful/whatever. Depending on my mood, I either thought I wasn't pretty enough, or I thought the guy was an asshole for even mentioning that he was seeking someone attractive.
Well, I was projecting when I wrote my personal ad. I didn't feel it was fair to ask for "cute" of potential suitors. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that being attractive isn't just about physical attributes. It's largely about a state of mind, how you feel about yourself.
In the end, I included "cute" because I decided to own my own cuteness, and because I was finally able to admit that I wanted a cute boyfriend, and most importantly because I wanted a mate that felt good about himself. People of all shapes and sizes are able to feel good about themselves, and "cute" is totally subjective.
Back to Mister Chubby Schlubb (MCS)... not the guy in the hallway, but the entire genre. In retrospect, I see that those dudes either felt good about themselves and/or they didn't let the "Is she out of my league?" question plague them, and so they pursued the pretty girl. Nothing wrong with that, except that at the time it felt like some heinous joke the universe was playing on me. I thought of myself as Ms. Chubby Schlubb, thereby obliterating my chances with pretty much everyone. In retrospect, I just wish that I'd been more like the MCS's and had the worth and the nerve to pursue guys I actually found attractive -- whether they were rail thin, chubby, or whatever.
As I was cruising through the hallway to the restroom this afternoon, I saw a chubby schlubby indie guy talking to an obviously pretty indie girl. I was flooded with memories of pursuing that kind of dude when I was single. I always liked the obviously cute indie guys, but I pursued the chubby schlubby ones because I thought I had more of a chance. The cruel truth was that I had as little or even less of a chance than I did with the obviously cute variety. That took years to figure out. In fact, when I wrote my personal ad for Craigslist, the one that led me to Honey Bunny, I had a very hard time deciding whether to add "cute" to the list of traits I was looking for in a guy. Mostly, I felt like I didn't deserve to have "cute". Thankfully, in the end, I did include it. (Honey Bunny is hella cute!)
This "cute" thing is all about self worth. I had to feel worthy of being someone's mate in order to actually get one, and part of feeling worthy is feeling attractive. There were plenty of times when I didn't respond to personal ads that I liked, based only on the advertiser saying he was seeking someone pretty/cute/beautiful/whatever. Depending on my mood, I either thought I wasn't pretty enough, or I thought the guy was an asshole for even mentioning that he was seeking someone attractive.
Well, I was projecting when I wrote my personal ad. I didn't feel it was fair to ask for "cute" of potential suitors. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that being attractive isn't just about physical attributes. It's largely about a state of mind, how you feel about yourself.
In the end, I included "cute" because I decided to own my own cuteness, and because I was finally able to admit that I wanted a cute boyfriend, and most importantly because I wanted a mate that felt good about himself. People of all shapes and sizes are able to feel good about themselves, and "cute" is totally subjective.
Back to Mister Chubby Schlubb (MCS)... not the guy in the hallway, but the entire genre. In retrospect, I see that those dudes either felt good about themselves and/or they didn't let the "Is she out of my league?" question plague them, and so they pursued the pretty girl. Nothing wrong with that, except that at the time it felt like some heinous joke the universe was playing on me. I thought of myself as Ms. Chubby Schlubb, thereby obliterating my chances with pretty much everyone. In retrospect, I just wish that I'd been more like the MCS's and had the worth and the nerve to pursue guys I actually found attractive -- whether they were rail thin, chubby, or whatever.
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