Longread – It’s not about the plus size

So, I still have the Plus Size Tag on my reader. There are blogs and posts that are simply worth it. There are blogs or at least entries that border on whiney and display an incredible amount of insecurity about their appearance – carefully pinning it on society at all times, because god forbid we take responsibility for anything.

I’ve read rants written by fat chicks who were acting really rude on a plane and pinned the bad reaction of other passengers on her being fat – and she describe her rude behaviour as being acceptable. It’s just that, when you’re rude, you can paint it the way you like, we’ll notice you were acting rude and entitled. It’s not about the plus size.

A painful rant I recently read was of a blogger who was shamed by a serious a-hole at a restaurant for something she didn’t even say (her friend did); she was screamed at and told to shut her trap and called a fatty several times. As much as it pained me too to read something like that, because I too have crossed paths with a-holes, the point in question was: the man was an a-hole. If it weren’t for her weight, it would have been something else: her dumb face, her wannabe high-class clothes, whatever. The problem was the guy. It’s not about the plus size.

When I was about 20 and quite heavy already, I was strolling along the garden when a gipsy woman came in my direction saying “Hey miss, let me read the palm of or hand! Come here, don’t run! I’ll tell you where you’ll find the man for you!”. I dodged and went my way, fuming. When I got home, I told this to my big sis and added “that presumptuous bitch! If I were thin, she would’ve tried to goad me with money!”. As I already knew back then, it’s not about the plus size.

There is a popular blog/vlog of a couple of plus-sized women trying on plus-sized clothes and showing how bad they fit and I could just SMACK those women on their behind for their flawed, childish logic. Plenty of skinny women with larger hips, narrower hips, broad shoulders, asparagus-like shoulderlessness, etc. Because people come in all shapes and sizes and that includes the skinny women, they need to look for something that fits too. It’s not about the plus size!

Prêt-à-porter is a fancy word, not so fancy in the original french because then it simply means “ready to wear”. In order to make production accessible, they a mould for each size, and each size will have roughly the same proportions. Some women it will fit better, some it won’t fit as good. Because, just imagine, we all have different proportions and as we all know, as much as half an inch can make the whole difference. No matter the size. It’s not about the plus size.

Some plus sized bloggers bitch and moan about how some companies will make supposedly large sizes but cut them really tight, like they want us to feel bad about ourselves and I have to wonder how anyone can be that self-absorbed and not realize skinny women go through the same. A girl I worked with, a  1,75m = 5’9” slender girl once rolled her eyes and said she had T-shirts ranging from an S to an XL, and even one XXL! Sure, there really should be a standard measurement every company should by law be forced to apply, I totally agree, but: It’s not about the plus size.

My sis came on a shopping trip to Berlin and she wanted to buy a denim jacket by a very famous american company. My sis is 1,62m = 5’4” and so skinny, her BMI is on the lower border of the acceptable. She was looking for an L!! I insisted the M would be enough, as the S would already be acceptable for someone her size but she stubbornly looked for L and when she didn’t find it, she resigned to try an M which, much to my shock, was really too tight for her. Where in the world is that woman a Large person? Not even in China! It’s not about the plus size!

I’m also flabbergasted about the amount of girls complaining that they can’t go shopping together with their friends. Clothes shopping was never a social event for me. Maybe it has to do with the fact that growing up, my clothes were a mix of the cheap rags my mom bought for me (without me being able to choose) at the street market for the lowest price possible and when she occasionally after much begging and crying put 25$ in my big sister’s hands and allowed us to go to the mall where I made a point of going to the cheapest trendy store (Zara) and buy as much as I could with it (which wasn’t much anyway. A pair of jeans and 2-3 T-shirts). But my friends at school who had allowances and were allowed to go out with friends didn’t make a social event of it either. I guess those were different days, but although I like fashion, I can’t imagine a more vapid occupation than clothes shopping in group the whole day.

People complaining about only being able to buy Plus Size by catalog…. Eh… I dunno, I kind of get, but then I don’t. I like trying stuff at home, knowing the mirror I’m trying it in front of. I like being able to try right away if this top goes with THOSE jeans and shoes just like I imagined it and I guess I have the up-side of living in Germany, where most online catalogs will provide you with a stamp for a cost-free return of clothes that don’t fit.

I have to wonder about the confidence problems of people when it comes to their shape and size because I have to wonder what kind of person bases their self-worth on their looks. What kind of person finds this acceptable and what kind of person will claim to be a self-reliable, thinking human being and still not take responsibility and go around pointing fingers. But I’ve met enough skinny and vain people in my life too, so that too can’t possibly be just about the plus size.

I’m overjoyed when I see blogs of Plus Sized bloggers who do mention the plus size but don’t make it about the plus size, they make it about the fashion. The way it’s meant to be. Because liking fashion and clothes doesn’t make one automatically vain. I too like aesthetically pleasing clothes, I like to put effort in an ensemble if I go to a party or sometimes just when going out alone, just for the fun of it. But I don’t feel like making hardship on any subject about the plus size. I find it’s just not fitting.

Eating veggies for the sake of eating veggies

DISCLAIMER: If you belong to one of those “bloggers” who are stalking particular tags in order to try and sell anyone oil-snake or oil-snake-related “literature” on “health” and “diet”, “fitness” and such, please spare me your likes and your follows. I will most likely >unknowingly< check your page, but you will get nothing else from me, only one more page-view that might just give you enough page-views to support your dishonest job of trying to fool people who are in need of real help. You are the cancer of the blogosphere and you should roast in a hell where you’re fed your own feet deep-fried in your own previously hydrogenated body-fat.

——————–

“May I?” my friend pointed at a strip of bell-pepper on my cutting board last week, while I was preparing lunch for us. I said sure, go ahead, and she gladly munched away at the raw strip of paprika and added “Yum! Bell-peppers are like the potato-chip of vegetables!” Well…. hmpf.

Taste. A matter of taste. The single vegetable I could chomp down on for a while, with no added flavor enhancer or spices, are carrots. Second to that is maize – especially with some butter melting on top, but then that’s flavor enhancement. There’s only so many veggies I’ll eat raw and unseasoned that will really taste good to me. Because maize is awesome, but put some salt on it, some butter and it’s even better. Cauliflower with freshly grated nutmeg on top, my god! Or some ripe tomato with plenty of olive oil and oregano. A salad with some heavy vinaigrette on top of it, yum!

So a few years ago, when my sister said she was going to do an oven-baked ratatouille, I was underwhelmed.

My sister, let me tell you, abhors any kind of fat. And she doesn’t use salt. Or glutamate or any flavor enhancer. On her vacation, she goes on hiking trips to mountains of 4000m/13000ft and up –  (in fact, she is so healthy, that all these healthy vacations have fucked her knees up way more than my obesity has mine, and the fucked up knees aren’t even self-diagnosed)  – when they get to the height when the guides regularly control the blood pressure of the participants, everyone gets salt banished from their food while my sister is basically force-fed some salt by the guiding leaders.

So my very healthy salt- and fat-free sister made an oven-baked ratatouille which is an offense to France and their cuisine. A ratatoiulle is like a casserole of several vegetables that is cooked by adding one vegetable after the other to the pot, considering how long they need to simmer in comparison to the rest, which when mastered leads to a bunch of beautifully seasoned veggies, all cooked to perfection despite the fact that they have different cooking duration. And my sister proudly threw a bunch of chopped vegetables with hardly any salt (“because I know no one but me will eat it if I don’t use salt *scoff*”) and just a spoonfull of oil (so the vegetables wouldn’t stick to the container) into the oven and called it a day.

I kept my expectations of the green bell-pepper low because I usually eat red or yellow ones and I know VEGETARIANS who hate green peppers. Then I tried the aubergine/egg-plant. It was chewy and flavorless. So nope, put the green peppers AND the egg-plant aside. Then came what? The zucchinis. Not my favourite of veggies, but I gave it a try. It was not just flavorless but also soggy to the point that it felt like it was cotton balls infused in water (like the aubergine, but with even less flavour). Ok, so set the zucchini aside. The red pepper wasn’t particularly good, but I’m blaming the produce market on this one. So I ate my meat with some out-of-season bland tomato and onions (can’t go wrong with onions!) and was stunned by everyone eating it and saying “It’s quite ok” (“quite ok” is what my family says when I present them with a professionally made dessert, it’s like the most of support and appreciation anyone will get from my family).

When I had put most of my ratatouille aside, I said I wasn’t really impressed. But I was used to the veggies in Germany so maybe that was why. To which my sis said “It’s not the vegetables. YOU don’t like vegetables, THAT’s the problem!”. I scoffed and fumed. I’m known in my family for not liking vegetables because vegetables don’t count if they have some sort of seasoning on them. Seriously, I only started eating vegetables after I discovered chinese food because the vegetables ACTUALLY are seasoned! My family – as well as many people – only know veggies as a mostly flowerless greenery that you’re supposed to gladly chomp on like your appendix is actually 5 foot long! 

Ya know what? Anyone who knows me would never say I don’t like meat! But I always eat my meat salted and properly seasoned so I don’t see why I shouldn’t go about my veggies the same way. But many people still insist and act like vegetables aren’t worth anything as soon as you put sauce or spices on them. Ya know what? Shout scream and squirm; insult me as a promoter of obesity, but my veggies actually taste good and my knees are fine.

(Oh, and I heard this one on the radio today. I might be making a post about this one, but it won’t be a health post, it will be a post against people who claim the media only tell lies, although they’re usually not smart enough to understand what the media tells them.)

Longread – Lame excuses regarding plus-size

I’m surrounded with plus-size on the internet, particularly the blogosphere. I will, for the most part, silently roll my eyes and very rarely comment on a blog. It’s very rare to find a blog entry revolving about plus-size that I find worthwhile and mostly, the entries just make me either wanna scratch my eyes out or call the blogger on their hypocrisy. The amount of lame excuses is enormous when it comes to plus-size and that  goes for both sides of the equation: the plus-sized people saying you should be proud and the skinny people saying fat is unhealthy. So I’m gonna give the blogosphere my take on the excuses of both sides that, from my point of view, are the lamest.

Since I’m plus-sized myself, I’m arbitrarily choosing to “attack” the fat-shamers first (lest I be accused of being a self-loather by the other plus-sized people)

“Just put the fork down! It’s that easy!”

Oh really? Because that’s something you’ve ever had to force yourself to? No? You never had to force yourself to do it? Maybe because it’s easier for you than for other people? This is the comment that, while not 100% inaccurate, makes me roll the eyes the most. If it was really that easy, there would be close to no fat people in the world. But you truly must illuminated or something. Or maybe you’re not that illuminated, if you’re unaware that inability to deal with emotional problems are a big part of the problem and all.

“My parents are both overweight just like me, so it must be genetic.”

Unless you’re a rat in a lab, that’s highly unlikely. It reminds me of the joke of a Doctors’ facebook group that goes “Obesity doesn’t run in the family. The problem is, no one runs in the family”. Genes aren’t the only thing you can pass along: bad habits are way up there too.

Same goes for the “conditions” and medications that make you fat. It’s true, once you figure out what’s causing it and fix it, the metabolism rate will stabilize, not over-accelerate. Which means you’ll stop gaining weight but won’t actually lose the weight you gained. Yeah sucks to be you, but even with an ongoin medical problem,. the weight loss is just harder, not impossible. I’m not telling you you should be happy about it. I’m not even gonna tell you to lose the extra weight. But the next time someone tells you to put the fork down, maybe consider telling them to screw off instead of playing victim?

“we need to stop promoting unhealthy life-styles”

Actually, the only thing we keep promoting is superficiality and overselling looks – the average consumer just grew up with the notion that superficiality is bad so he turned the focus of the looks towards health. Everyone is still buying into one form or the other of “being unhealthy”- the overly skinny and the overly fat. Don’t bother trying to tell me it has anything to do with health. If you insist upon it, google orthorexia – we have found an extreme right in the middle of everything! Mankind – we are that good! HOLY COW!

“You can be fat and healthy.”

Sure thing. Fat people just usually aren’t. Doing yoga and posting it on youtube is definitely very awesome and it makes me very jealous (I’m more the “skip-the-bus-and-walk-the-8-bus-stops-instead” kind of person) but it doesn’t necessarily make you healthy. And yes, my skinny sister who has a fatty liver because her sparse bodyfat decided to say “F*** your thighs, I’m hitting your liver first!” is kinda screwed, but she is also the exception. And why is everyone so obsessed with health around food anyway? Could it be another attempt to legitimize your very own opinion of what is beautiful? Hmmmm…. bonus round: this actually went both ways.

“Fat people are just unattractive.”

No problem, look at skinny people. There a lack of naked skinny people around you, honeyboy/girl?

“Real women have curves”

Yes they do – sometimes in the most perfect body parts, sometimes in the most obnoxious body parts. But there are plenty of real women with no curves. Those skinny models are real women too, ya know?

Personal afterthought:

I’m never gonna be proud of being fat. Because, here’s a funny little story, I’m only proud of achievements, and gaining weight was not one of the things I worked at in my life, go figure! I also can lose a ton of weight over the years and still feel antagonized by the war of the BMIs (as if the war of the sexes weren’t enough!) because, like a lolcat once said: what has been seen cannot be unseen!

I’m also never gonna be ashamed of being fat. When naked in front of a mirror, you’ll most likely find me poking my belly and saying “boing! boing! boing!” – ya know, not something I would do at the supermarket, but far from crouching in a corner and crying.

I’m quite sure anyone who reads this and regularly uses one of these excuses will not change their minds and be quite baffled and pissed off at “how dense she is”. But maybe, just maybe, a couple of bloggers will see themselves in this entry and like it and comment or even share. And that would be more than ok, that would be perfectly awesome.

Smarty-pants parody of your average plus-size blog-post

I have been fat all of my life and hated my body the same amount of time. So I’ve allways hidden my body. It wasn’t until I recently completed TWO WHOLE DECADES of my life that I realized, this wasn’t me. This was the patriarchal society telling me how to see myself and how to feel. And it was time that I starded feeling beautiful, no matter what others think. But I’m still gonna blog about it and show others how beautiful fat people can be, just because.

And I’m also here to tell you that YOU must feel good about your curves too! Even if I have an hourglass-shape and you have a big bulging belly, YOU are beautiful too and don’t let my overall insecurity oozing all over this post make you think otherwise! You should totally wear hot-pants although you’re plus-sized, no mater how crooked or ridden with varicose veins your legs are! If others don’t like they, then THEY should look away! If you don’t like it… well, look away too, but wear them anyway! And to prove it, here’s a selfie of me in a skimpy skirt, taken from above because any insecure person knows it’s the best angle and making a goose face, because duck-face is for skinny superficial girls!

And I’m not superficial, by the way. I have only been feeling sorry for myself my whole life because I never felt pretty. And now I’ve decided to prove to the whole blogosphere that I’m deep and meaninful by considering myself pretty, even though I don’t look like your average size zero model. In a partriarchal society.

PATRIARCHAL SOCIETY!!!!!

—- End of sarcasm

(for anyone who doesn’t follow me: size 24 here *wave*)

You gotta love ’em. I get that everyone goes through fases and needs an outlet (hell, welcome to my bitchin’ and moaning lair, dear readers!) but do all these teenagers and young adults need to try to tell me what to feel and what to think? Is it really any better than the “patriarchal society” and the size 0 models telling me what to feel and think? And why? Why are all these bloggers so much better than the “patriarchal society” and the size 0 models, I wonder?

But still, it’s an average. Which means, there are still plenty of good posts with the plus-size tag, which is why this tag will, for the time being, be kept in my WordPress-Reader. And I will still pat myself in the back everytime I say stuff like this in my blog instead of commenting and calling anyone in their hypocrisy in their own comment section. Baby steps.

Health as a religion, skinny as a health synonym

In about a week, I will have officially lost 1/10 of my weight – my doctor is going to shit a fucking rainbow when she sees me, even if for the whole world, I’m still just the obese woman who probably goes to McDonald’s every day (god, I hate people). I have also, after 18 long years as a smoker, gave up smoking… er… 9th of September last year, that was my first smoke-free day (I’m not even into that vaping shit, don’t get me started on those…) It’s my second go, so I’m feeling confident, because I know from last time that when my head goes “but you could be an occasional smoker, so many people do it…” IT’S A TRAP!!!

And one fine Saturday, I was trying the new pair of jeans I had ordered by catalog, my usual size but finally a beautiful bootcut that is so hard to get by in my size, and they wouldn’t fit, and I shouted out loud to myself alone “FUCKED IF I’M DOING THIS SHIT AGAIN! NO!!! My change in food habits and lifestyle starts TODAY!” and it did. And the jeans almost fit now – (I don’t have to squeeze in, but they only officially fit when they don’t make a camel toe)

Anyway, I did neither of these things for health or beauty. I quit smoking because my cough was getting on my nerves and smoke-breaks were allways a sore subject at work (even if they were never the problem, they were just the scapegoat for the bosses)

If you could take a sneak peak at what I’d like to do with many pounds less, you’d see me running up the stairs so I won’t miss the train (I can only fast-pace up the stairs, that bugs me!) and you’ll see a lot of me sitting cross-legged on the grass or on top of a bench. You might see me with my leg crossed over the knee, realizing that I shouldn’t do it anyway because of my bad circulation and uncrossing it again. I’m doing it for freedom of movement and comfort.

And a few days ago, I forbade my sister of saying the word “healthy”. I can’t even explain her how to make a tasty sauce out of broth, wine and herbs to pour over a chicken breast and she tells me it’s not healthy, because it has like… 1 teaspoon of butter in it and butter is unhealthy. Oh, and any cured cheese is also unhealthy and loaded with bad fats. And and and. And please never ask me to eat anything you cook, ok?

A girl at work is quite slender, she just has hips (like oh, say, women?) and a bit of fat over her muscular thighs. She has a thin waist and the trained belly and arms you’d normally see on a fitness-magazine cover, but she has loudly informed us she’s on a weightwatchers diet. She’s also eating the wrong kind of bread (the kind that makes you slowly absorb the carbs and will have your glicemia peak rather than stabilize and make you feel satisfied is what she eats). She eats the wrong kind of bread because the right kind is too dry without butter. When I suggested replacing the butter with fresh cheese (my kind of thing), she promptly explained to me that fresh cheese is just way too fat. And she won’t eat fat. At all. THAT’s healthy…. *dramatic eye roll* She’s aiming for 8% bodyfat. I told her she was overreacting and she promply described her 100-calories-a-day eating, 90 pounds heavy, 5′ 9” sister as overreacting. Uhhh… sweetie, that’s a fucking eating disorder, not an overreaction!

Another co-worker who is almost grotesquely skinny usually gives me a ride after-work and one day I asked about what she ate at home, because she is a vegetarian and I thought, maybe she knows some good recipes. Huh… she explained she only eats one or two cookies at work (if we happened to make those teeny-tiny 1,5” cookies that day…) and leaf salad with some olive oil when she gets home. And in the summer she does 30 miles on her bike daily on an empty stomach. And today, to further my shock, she said “if I ate too much one day, I just won’t eat anything for a couple of days” and I don’t think she’s joking. She also doesn’t like to go on vacation, she prefers to cash in the vacation she didn’t apply for, so who the f*** knows on what drugs that otherwise sweet girl is running.

Incidentally, none of these 3 women likes fashion or has ever looked at a runway model longer that 5 seconds. They don’t read Cosmo (or any other silly-ass women’s magazines), they don’t hunt the internet for dieting tips and they never follow the trendy diets. They never even advise each other on how to lose weight, each one convinced they have found the path to happiness.

I’m not going to give you the “I’m fat but healthy!” shit, because seriously, I’m tired of that self-delusional bullcrap too (it’s f***ing amazing you’re doing yoga! Keep it up! But your internal organs still don’t give a f***!). But “I’m healthy because I’m skinny” is nullcrap too, and oh, by the way: at least one of these skinny women has been diagnosed with a fat liver. Yeah.

Overall, screw it all! I just want to find my middle term and not worry about health. If I only have one cold a year and don’t suffer major trauma, I just neet to feel content and comfy. And that is seriously hard for me, so… STFU people. Sheesh…. :|

Beauty is so overrated…

Now, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t going to be a post condemning beauty in every sense of the word – not even a post condemning beauty in terms of appearences. I wax my stupid latin lady-moustache, I pluck around my eyebrows with a pair of tweezers going “ow ow ow!”, I clean and moisturize my face every night, I choose clothes that I find pretty and either make me look good, or at least not like a friggin’ shapeless potato bag. I’ll even wax my legs on occasion, though I don’t wear any shorts or skirts. Just because I like, once in a while, tp look down and see my very own smooth legs. I believe in the importance of being well groomed by your own standards. I think provides enough wiggle room for everyone.

But I have the tag “plus size” on my wordpress reader and everyday when I do my reading on the way to work, I see 90% of plus size related posts about wanting to be beautiful, wanting to be confident and wanting models to be plus sized, because they’re representing beauty standards. Now there are even models demanding that they not be called plus sized. My beef with the whole model situation is: models are not representing beauty standards.

The only thing I expect from a fashion show is to know the tendencies, colours and shapes of the next season

(if only so I can smirk and say “no way in hell….”)

But it doesn’t stop at plus size. I jump to the “freshly pressed” section and there I will find more than one message about beauty and beauty standards. Everyone is saying that you have to be beautiful to be successful;

or that society dictates you have to be beautiful;

or that skinny chicks are unhealthy and not real, fat is the real beauty, curves are beautiful;

or that fat chicks are promoting a dangerous life-style and they’re not really pretty;

or that disney is to blame for your low self-esteem;

or the patriarchal society (I already cringe at this fuckin’ word) is to blame for your self-esteem

(I still wonder how patriarchal a society can be, where I can’t remember the last time I heard white men say anything. If anyone is stoically taking one blow after the other without saying a word, it’s the white male. But that’s a whole other subject)

All I see is people fixated on beauty, like we’re all a bunch of hormonal teenagers. And I have to wonder how anyone so fixated in beauty standards still can expect to be taken seriously. About anything.

Dear fellows formerly known as the fat-chicks of the world…

…aka plus-sizes. I have a very high BMI and wear an US size 26 (EU54). Now let me show you something.

Here is self-loathing.

Here is adoring yourself.

Look how much friggin’ room there is inbetween! Look at it!! It might have been wider if not for the menus on the right, etc., but you get the picture. Now, having said that, here’s my take on this situation.

Some time ago, someone came up with the ridiculous notion that models aren’t coat-hangers to display clothes on a runway and that they’re supposed to be pretty. But they are not supposed to be pretty, they’re not the main focus of a runway show, the clothes are. But around the same time that teenagers started describing their teenager peers as “societey”, the ridiculous notion that models should be a role-modeld to anyone rather than a twig for one-size-fits-all-couture somehow seems to have clung to the other boogey-man: the “mass media”.

In a time where bad-parenting is a constant accusation and teachers are to blame if the kids just won’t learn anything, somehow these emaciated total strangers are made responsible for the self-esteem of the women in general (but men are tough. They’re never insecure, f*** ’em! Let’s make it all about women again. We’re the 50% minority)

And I, as a fat woman, am expected to hate these models as if they had tied me to the chair and force-fed me like a foie gras goose. Well, screw you, that’s what I have got to say that. People who say beauty comes in all shapes and sizes are usually more than happy to disregard any slender-shape as unnatractive, unhealthy garbage. I hate both that notion and the notion that, gosh darn it, you just have to be beautiful! Because f*** inner values!

No, beauty comes first! Those models were right all along, they just had the wrong size! Hmmm…. No thanks.

Those skinny teenagers making duckface and taking selfies in front of the mirror look ridiculous, but somehow, a fat adult woman making pouty faces and taking selfies in front of the mirror was just what this world was missing! Let’s make it aaaaall about appearences! Well, I’m all for being sexy and feeling ok in your skin, but this is ridiculous! Are we willing to focus on looks this much?

I’d love to dress up a bit more (spare a dime, sister?), and I truly am thankful for the few plus-sized models showing up. This means the companies are finally noticing how much money they can make off of us plus-sizes (you thought the fashion industry was changing their views about beauty? Seriously?) and that is finally ensuring that there are more and more high-quality plus-sized clothing available every day!I  do check plus-size fashion blogs, but I refuse to parade around like a vain kid, especially on the internet. Beauty is a part of my life, but it is ONE part, and not even the biggest. I’m not vain.