I won't be reading Skinny Bitch. I love meat and I have a freakishly high metabolism. Plus I only take Posh's recommendations on historical fiction.
But I can guess why everyone's snatching it up: The obesity crisis is so grim - one-third of us obese, two-thirds overweight - that if anyone can inject humor into the discussion, things might seem a little less dire. Most everyone agrees that America needs to lose weight - and lots of it. Our life expectancy now lags behind 41 other countries.
And yet ... I'm conflicted. Not every overweight person should lose weight. My trip this past weekend to Minneapolis was bookended by the downside - and the upside - of fat. I'll explain...
***
To get to JFK airport on Friday, I decided to take the train and save $60 in cab fare. When I got on the train there was only one unoccupied seat in the car, at the right side of a very fat man. But the man was taking up more than his seat, his stomach sprawling, spilling onto the empty seat - like lava flowing from Mount Saint Helens. I went and stood over him. He looked up from his Sudoku puzzle, his eyes half open, took a deep breath, and with great effort leaned his body onto his left (port side) buttock. As the train car creaked, a good deal of his stomach rolled back from the "empty" seat, providing a small space for me.
I thanked him and sat down. But because it was still only three-quarters empty, I was squeezing into a too-small space - and caught my pocket in the armrest to the right of my seat.
Riiiiipppppp. Along the right side of my Moschino khaki trousers, a horrendous tear opened up.
Above: The tear in my Moschino trousers, courtesy of the fat man.
When standing, the damage was less noticeable. (Those are threads around the tear, not hairs.)
I was furious at the man. I wanted him to see the tear himself, to acknowledge what he had done to my pants, so that he would never forget! But to turn my body around in that small space, so that he could see my exposed right buttock, wasn't worth the effort.
Yet in my anger at him - and at the many overweight people who've crowded me over the years (have you flown out of O'Hare?!) - I suddenly had a flashback:
In the late 1970s and early '80s I accompanied my parents to a number of grownup Christmas parties. I loved grownup Christmas parties for one main reason: the Christmas cookies! The thin tree-shaped cookies with green and red sprinkles would make me tremble with ecstasy. I couldn't stop gobbling them up off the tray, throwing back Hawaiian punch like a lush, to wash them down.
Christianity may not have a perfect history. But as far as I'm concerned, Christmas cookies more than make up for the Crusades.
I remember one party in 1979, in Northern Virginia - before NoVA was yuppified and stripped of character. I wore a tan Pierre Cardin suit and, precocious 10 year old that I was, I made my usual chit-chat with the adults: "I bet the Iranian hostages will be released before next Christmas!" I chirped.
As was customary, most of the grownups got tired of indulging me. But sitting on the sofa there was one woman who invited me to sit next to her. She was an older woman and she was big. Not just big-boned, but big-butted and big-breasted. And strong. A proud country woman, the kind who oversee weekend flea markets with military authority, undaunted by heat, mosquitoes, or brittle bargain-hunting city women. Tonight she was wearing her holiday best, some sort of green damask, her dark hair in a modified beehive. (Imagine a woman in a Far Side cartoon.)
I sidled up to the Giant-Breasted Virginia Country Woman, eating my cookies and yapping away: "When Amy Carter goes to school, she has Secret Service agents!"
"Now is that right?" she asked, her accent thick, her mountainous chest heaving up and down as she laughed.
But pretty soon, the sugar hit me - and I started to crash. I wanted nothing more than to lie down ... and sleep. But where?
"Babies who live near Three ... Mile ... Island ... have ... an ... extra ..." I trailed off, half a cookie dropping onto my lap. I had no more energy.
That's when the GBVCW came to the rescue. As my eyelids fluttered shut, she mobilized: she put her arm around me, gripped my shoulder with her paw, and pulled my head into her breasts. And I plunged into dreamland.
Her bounteous Old Dominion boobs were bliss, nirvana, heaven. I slept for only 20, 30 minutes tops. But it was probably the deepest sleep I'll ever have. Her breasts could have cured the worst sufferer of sleep apnea! Had the Giant-Breasted Virginia Country Woman been thin, even normal weight, she would have been useless to me at that critical moment. If a picture existed of the GBVCM, I'd post it.
Luckily my weekend to Minneapolis-St. Paul ended with another brush with the same kind of woman.
The flight back to New York aboard Sun Country Airlines was full. I spent the whole time reading, until the snack cart rolled to a stop by me. I looked up - and that's when I saw Barb.
Awesomely Big-Breasted Barb didn't have quite the height of the GBVCW, but she projected the same power - with a funky twist. She wore cat glasses, but with clear frames, and a pair of dangly earrings. (The modern American woman's rejection of dangly earrings is a scandal and the subject for a future posting.) Her hair was short and she had lots of arty jewelry on her wrists and fingers. Otherwise, she was good old-fashioned Germanic girth, Teutonic tonnage. As wide and steady as the Battleship Bismarck. (The Royal Navy would stand no chance against this vessel.) Barb was beautiful.
I rushed to pull my camera out of the overhead. Then, conscious of the presence of an air marshal somewhere on the plane, I very carefully tried to take a picture of her.
Above: Barb getting ready to toss a Turkey Pastrami sandwich and cookie at me. The look of consternation on my face is meant to suggest to suspicious passengers that I'm simply trying to take a self-portrait. In fact I'm trying to get a shot of Awesomely Big-Breasted Barb (AB3).
I took a great risk in getting this picture of Barb. (Across the aisle sat a Nordic-looking St. Paulite. He seemed nervous when I began playing with my camera. I was convinced he was about to tackle me.) But I wanted my readers to get a sense of AB3.
By the end of the trip, I was cranky, my neck was aching, and I wanted nothing more than to sit on Barb's lap, my face in her breasts, and sleep. (Presumably we'd need a seat belt extender to strap the two of us in for landing.) Of course that didn't happen. But it was my fervent wish.
I guess what I'm saying is, I understand America needs to lose weight. But what will happen to all the women like GBVCW and AB3? The culture could indeed lose something important.
Do you have relatives or family friends like these two women? Have they given similar comfort at tired, cranky times? Please share your remembrances of generous big women with gigantic breasts!!
Reader Comments ( Page 1 of 10)
1. What I'm about to say is by no means a condemnation of what you have written, Mo. I enjoy what you write, and my fondness of your work could never be diminished. But I'm glad you brought up the topic, because nowadays, the only coverage of fat people involves those ridiculous news cutaways of overweight people photographed from the shoulders down.
I'm fed up with what has been written about people who are fat. I myself am fat, but not considered obese. But more and more, people who are fat, obese, whatever you wish to call them, are discrminated against and treated with disrespect because of how they look. I personally do not believe we were all supposed to look like Q-tips, because if we were, our stomachs would be considerably smaller than they are now. Two centuries ago, being fat was considered a symbol of status - fat people were rich people who could afford lavish dinners and eat as much as they wanted. Now, the representation of conspicuous consumption has shifted, from food to cars, clothes, and mansions. And, for whatever reason, fat people are portrayed as stupid and lazy. And it upsets me when misogynistic morons like Donald Trump call a woman a "big fat pig" just because she publicly disagreed with him.
Being fat has no impact on a person's intelligence or how they act. It is a purely physical state of existence. But because society so looks down upon excess body fat, people are driven to commit astounding acts of self-mutilation in order to be thin. So I applaud women like Barb and the Virginia Country Woman for being the way God or whoever it is made them. They love life and want to enjoy it so much that they choose not to dwell on their size.
And that's all I have to say about that :)
Marta R. at 2:55PM on Aug 14th 2007
2. Ha ha! That's so funny. I bet many men have the same type of fantasy about large, nurturing women, like a safe haven to snuggle into. I can dig it. Actually, I'm probably one of those women... My son still likes to snuggle with me, and he's 12. (Innocent snuggling, you people with dirty minds!)
Snuggly at 3:01PM on Aug 14th 2007
3. Right on, Marta. I'm intrigued that you describe yourself as fat. I've never been quite sure of how overweight people view the word "fat."
btw Barb was excellent at her job. Flight attendants deal with so much, I don't blame the ones who become exasperated.
Barb was efficient and energetic.
Mo Rocca at 3:09PM on Aug 14th 2007
4. Mo you own me a new keyboard. This is too funny.
"Christianity may not have a perfect history. But as far as I'm concerned, Christmas cookies more than make up for the Crusades."
Jeff at 3:10PM on Aug 14th 2007
5. Thank you Thank you.. Free at last free at last thank God almighty free at last.
From a Germanic woman with a great sense of humor. I have to be honest, Victoria Beckham annoys the hell out of me, not for anything other than I see way too much of her and being THAT thin and looking like she just stepped out of colonics annonymous leaves just same kind of message as obese but uhm expressive. You are hilarious you had me being looked at more curiously the coffee shop for other reasons then the obvious. The far side comment was a seldom truly laugh out loud moment as that was EXACTY what I had pictured and started to giggle before you actually said that.
That picture you got is so funny, are you going to take the credit if Barb gets discovered now and goes into porn or movies or something?
Nice nice work. And no I'm not being a suck up, I don't want anything, unless you are offering???
Great read. Liz (Portland, Or)
Liz at 3:14PM on Aug 14th 2007
6. It's not okay to discriminate against people who are overweight, but reverse discrimination against people who are healthy and thin is just as wrong. I've always been a thin girl, but have become rather tired of having to be the punching bag for chubby girls with low self esteem, chicks who give me dirty looks when they first glance at me and they don't even know me. It goes both ways.
chachi at 3:24PM on Aug 14th 2007
7. At age 19, I have just come to realize that these things I've been carrying around on my chest since I was 12 will serve their purpose someday. (Makes all that back pain and all those uncomfortable "granny" bras almost seem worth it, eh? ...Almost.) Now I can sleep at night knowing that when they decide to sag to timbucktoo, I'll have some sleepy little boy to keep them company.
Thanks for such an entertaining read!! :-)
Chrissy D. Wenatchee, WA
DadiesGrl777 at 3:53PM on Aug 14th 2007
8. Mo! You are so right and so funny! How miserable and boring the world would be if we were all skinny bitches! Tell me: Have you ever heard a skinny bitch emit hearty laughter? Have you ever had a skinny bitch give you a hug that instantly put you at ease? Have you ever boinked a skinny bitch without running into her pelvic bone? I think not. Skinny bitches are not the norm (nowadays they are the exception). Besides, I'd much rather hang out with folks who enjoy eating than folks who are always on a diet, because I'm not into self-deprivation.
Right now, I'm a size 12, which is not that big, but is considered fat by anyone in the single-digit range of clothes (oh well). Since puberty, I've been a size 16 at my heaviest and a size 8 at my smallest. And do you know when I was happiest? NEVER! That's because society makes women feel terrible for not being a "perfect size 6" and with a dad who was 6'3" and 240 lbs, I'm afraid I'll never be small. But I've come to accept it. And my one saving grace is that I have something now that I didn't have when I was starving myself to be thin: a strong sense of self-love and self-worth, and an "eff-em if they don't love me for me" attitude. I have my cake and I eat it, too, but I also cut out transfats; I eat more fruits and vegetables; I don't smoke; and I walk 3-5 miles 3-4 days a week. And I refuse to judge myself by any standards except those that will ensure that I live a happy, meaningful existence surrounded by people who really love me, and not some image that they have burned into their psyches by the mass media fashion nazis.
littlewing1217 at 4:01PM on Aug 14th 2007
9. Mo, I enjoyed your little ditty.
I am a tall, large-boned, gigantic breasted woman.
Let me tell you, there is definitely a market for my type of woman.
I am attractive(at least that's what my husband and all the others tell me), and EVERYONE loves my gargantuan funbags.
Well, everyone who wants a peaceful, uninterrupted nap.
Miz Ally at 3:51PM on Aug 14th 2007
10. Ms chachi,
No one discriminates against thin women.
"Chubby girls" like myself as you call us are just tired of people turning your noses up at us because of extra belly fat.
We give dirty looks because you stare at us, silently comparing yourselves to us with your haughly, pretentious glares
Miz Ally at 4:03PM on Aug 14th 2007
11. Aw Mo:
Now you've given Webster's the "Mile High Blub?"
I'll give you, Posh can be a bit spooky looking most of the time. But don't we all need to eat a little bit better and more sensibly? Remember your liverwurst sandwich while you were blogging? That is just a health attack waiting to happen.
I promise to keep a breast of your future infatuations.
And don't forget to vote for Hank Kimball!
John Giza at 4:07PM on Aug 14th 2007
12. Little wing is full of it!
Anyone who feels the need to divulge that much info about their personal regimen is self-conscious, and incessantly critiquing themselves.
Miz Ally at 4:06PM on Aug 14th 2007
13. Oh...My...Lord, I am the snuggly fat woman. Kids love to sleep on me, all of my nieces and nephews, assorted other children of friends and neighbors...all of them.
MaryAnn at 4:11PM on Aug 14th 2007
14. Chachi- maybe you're giving the fat people dirty looks first and they're are just shooting you one back.
I am 5'3 and used to weigh 155 pounds. I don't want to say I was fat, but thick. I got more dirty looks from skinny girls when I was thick, than from bigger girls now that I'm thin.
patty at 4:20PM on Aug 14th 2007
15. When I was younger I was overweight but healthier eating and exercize did the trick to help me lose 40 pounds of fat. However, I have a fairly slow metabolism and broad shoulders while that 60 pound 6th grader with a freakishly abnormal metabolism claims she works out and that I should be skinnier. I have suffered over an eating disorder because of most of this and it's hell. In this society you have to be "perfect." because of some photoshopped picture on the cover of a magazine that is complete bull shit. Don't listen to them. Be proud of being big! Like I say, the bigger you are, the more there is to love.
Splat at 4:22PM on Aug 14th 2007