“Hey sweetie…look at this picture. One of these women is a plus sized model.”
“Are you kidding me? Which one?”
“The one in the pink suit”
“That? That is some bullshit. Plus sized my ass”
Having grown up on a steady diet of women’s magazines I am so used to the crazy, unrealistic, hyper-skinny sexualized Amazons in these magazines that some times I forget that how ridiculous they are.
For example, this woman was asked about how she feels about being part of the new wave of “curvy” models gaining acceptance on the runway:
I mean, my God, what a miracle she can get work. The heifer.
Sometimes I forget to be angry about stuff like this, about the ways that women like me (i.e. who don’t look like this) are told over and over that the lumps and stretch marks and imperfections aren’t good enough.
But, he, Mr.Monkey, he thinks I am good enough.
I feel that I should add…if you are a tall, skinny, beautiful, model type woman, more power to you. I have nothing but respect for people who work hard and have the bodies to prove it. I just have to be reminded sometimes that it is wrong to say that if I don’t look like that, if I don’t have a body shape that I will never have, that I am not good enough. That is all.