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 6 of 10)
76. I thought I was "fat" in high school. While I couldn't hope to fit into anything smaller than a size 10, several of my friends were a 0. I'd look in the mirror at my thick thighs and ample behind, wishing I could just "be thin." I'll never forget, being 5'7" and 145 lbs at 17, telling my physician that I wanted to lose 20 pounds - she literally almost fell of her chair! Sadly, I never felt good about the way I looked.
Years later, when I found myself in the midst of an unplanned pregnancy, I gained more than 80 pounds to mask my belly bulge. My weight has risen and fallen since the birth of my daughter, 5 years ago, but I'm still a good 60 pounds above my goal weight.
Looking back at my H.S. photos, I cannot wrap my mind around my distorted body image. I was athletic, strong, not hard to look at, and had a friendly personality - but I hated myself. Now, I feel pity for the old me - not because I didn't know what I had when I had it, but because I didn't love the me I was.
I still hope to lose the remainder of my "baby weight" in the coming years. Not because I think I'm "too fat," but because I sadly have a family medical history that could fill all the volumes of Encyclopedia Brittanica.
I don't have trouble fitting into chairs, or doing physically demanding tasks, or finding clothes that flatter me, and I can proudly say I love the way I look (most of the time), but I do worry about my daughter, and being here for her for as long as possible. More importantly, I want my daughter to learn to love herself no matter what her metabolism dictates in her adult life.
As long as weight at either extreme is not an obstacle to quality of life or health, embrace the body you're in proudly. It could be worse: you could be fat/thin/ugly/beautiful and dead!
P.S. Mo: they're called boxer briefs, and they can handle anything! :)
lin at 2:32AM on Aug 15th 2007
77. Mo, I fill out a 32DD bra. 32 is basically the smallest band size available, and a DD is probably among the largest cup size available. What I'm saying is that if you're ever in a cramped space and need a nap, drop me a line.
Seriously, though, weight confuses the hell out of me. I don't think I'm especially skinny (at a hair less than 5'2, it seems reasonable to me to have a 26" waist--or 27 on a "fat" day), but other people do. I can't determine whether I genuinely am skinny, or if it just seems that way because the majority of Americans are fat. I think I'm about the right size for my height...but whatever it is, I'm fairly healthy so I guess it doesn't really matter.
You, on the other hand, are quite small. That's why this post amuses me so much. I imagine I could fit you in my cleavage.
Lailah at 2:43AM on Aug 15th 2007
78. HEY! Mr. maraschino pants:
Your pockets are way too big! Come on, that's what really started this thing. I loved the picture though. Your "shear" indignation cracked up this insomniac in the middle of the night. Thanks! Guys with really big hands are attracted to woman with super sized containers. That finding was announced by the FDA right after they approved those two fat pills that were on the market for a week; a good week before they got yanked for killing people.
FRANK at 3:08AM on Aug 15th 2007
79. My mother (who is a fairly large woman with the most comfortable breasts in the world) sent me a link to this site. I laughed so hard when I read it. My Mom is very self conscious about her size (most of the weight gain started with a thyroid disorder that went undiagnosed for a very long time). I have a lot of family in Virginia and guess what...most of them fit the description of GBVCW.
I have to agree that society puts way too much emphasis on image rather than health. In middle school I dealt with severe depression that lead to anorexia. I later over came it and learned to love myself. I am not overweight...nor am I super skinny. I am somewhere in the middle (5'7 and 135 lbs). I wear a size 11-13 (or 12-14). I can't imagine being a size zero...I was a size five when I went from kids clothes to junior's sizes. I have never been over weight...even though I used to think that I was (I've been very lucky so far...it is very common in my family).
I do however, have very large boobs. As my roommate said one time to a friend when she needed to do laundry "I can't go out...I don't have any clean bras! No, she wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of hers...but it won't work...she has gianormous ta-tas!" They are soft and squishy and make great pillows. I hope my kids one day will remember feeling secure and comfortable on me...
Now...moving on...
Here is my problem with the media. When I was in 10th grade I went to a model search and made the first cut. The second round was a regional convention in Orlando where we got to walk the cat walk in front of agents and hopefully get a contract. I remember sitting in the crowd and listening to one of the agents speaking on behalf of her company. They handled "Plus sized women size 9 and above." My jaw just about hit the floor. Height didn't matter...health didn't matter...just the size number. I was already a size nine at that point and have since gone up a size or two (depending on the brand). I knew the modeling industry was bad...but that was simply insane. I didn't get a modeling job and to be honest I'm very greatful now. If I had gone on to be a model, over time I would have bought in to their diets and ideology. I am much happier being who I am today than I would have been if I had become an anorexic (again) clone of everyone else on the magazine covers. I know there are some people out there who would simply say that I am bitter about not getting to be a model and yada-yada-yada. I was disappointed...and in some ways still am...but I am not bitter about it. I would have been a completely different person than who I am now if I had gotten it. It may have been for the better or it may have been for the worse...only God knows...but I do know this...I like who I am today and that is what really matters.
I guess what I am trying to say here is that being overweight isn't good...a person should strive for health...but I am well aware that many people with weight problems do have some sort of bigger problem (like hypothyroid disease etc.) that causes or adds to the weight. The media right now is crazy...if a size 9 healthy teenage girl is considered a "plus size" how can anyone look at an add and feel good about themselves in comparison?
My advice: try not to let it get to you. Be happy with who you are. Please...if you are skinny already...appreciate what you have...don't try to get thinner. You will look weird. On the flip side, if you are plump...try to stay healthy but realize that you can be big and beautiful! Skinny or fat, learn to smile (not a fake smile but the real thing) and things will get easier. One quote I love most is "we're all a perfect ten...but some people are wrapped in bubble wrap to protect it."
After all Marilyn Monroe was, what, a size 14? She was one of the most beautiful and sexiest women alive.
Also...Thank you Dove for putting real women in your adds and not airbrushed girls who are too skinny. I believe that this is the first step towards a better public self esteem.
Beth at 4:51AM on Aug 15th 2007
80. I came across a college faculty pic from the 1950's. I kept looking at that photo - of some 200+ people - trying to figure out what was odd about it. These were teachers. They spent their time indoors behind desks or in classrooms. They were pale. Many men were balding. Didn't look look they got much sun, exercise or ate very healthily. But there were NO obese people in sight. And I'm sure that there were plenty of people there that loved to eat! Overweight people nowadays need to quit blaming "skinny bitches" for their problems and start addressing the unhealthy crap that is in the food supply. And then stop buying that crap & demand fresh, unadulterated foods.
inka at 6:14AM on Aug 15th 2007
81. Ah! The snuggly women! I am one of them. To this day, if my son puts his head on my shoulder, he instantly falls asleep. Over my 53 years on this Earth, I spent many an hour worrying about my weight. No more...life is much too short. Even though I am big (size 18), I can hike 10+ hilly miles, ride my bike 20+ miles, flat water kayak for hours and walk 3 miles everyday. My blood pressure is excellent and I feel good. My analogy for me these days is that of the chair...which chair would you like to sit in? The sleek, modern, stylish chair or the nice, big fluffy comfy chair? I am the comfy chair and happy to be one. folks should consider spending more time knowing the inside and less worrying about the outside. Thanks, Mo!
Deb at 8:12AM on Aug 15th 2007
82. Mo and all of the folks who've posted comments. This is funny stuff. Yet another example of a myriad of opinions and viewpoints, and we're all entitled to our own. I have been on both sides of the weight battle and experience the comments that go with each - "you're fat" and "you're too thin". You are what you are. End of story. It's not up to anyone to judge.
Kim at 8:34AM on Aug 15th 2007
83. hey mo! i enjoyed this umm article. I have pretty big hooters now (im not obese or even fat just a bit pudgey) so maybe i might have GBVCW tits when i get old and fat :) (loved you on i love the 80's)
natty at 9:19AM on Aug 15th 2007
84. People do discriminate again thin people Miz, just read what Littlewing said. I am thin and could not care less what size you are.....Littlewing. and if i met you, I would consider you an everday normal human being. I guess I would quickly learn though....you do not start out with the same fairness.
MaryAnn Young at 9:47AM on Aug 15th 2007
85. Fat people whine too much. either be happy to be fator shut up and lose some weight!
Ray at 10:10AM on Aug 15th 2007
86. i'm one of those "skinny bitches." i know that for the most part, i lucked out with good genes and parents who instilled in me some good old fashioned common sense when it came to eating. EAT ONLY WHEN YOU ARE HUNGRY, if you're going to eat at all. NO LATE NIGHT EATING, have a glass of water instead. EAST SMALLER PORTIONS, that food pryamid, isn't there for nothing. walk and take the stairs when you can. i ABHOR skinny, esp skinny and fat ppl who take an elevator up ONE lousy floor. lazy bitches! i can understand it, if you don't know the building, but for future reference, the stairs tend to be RIGHT NEXT TO the elevators b/c if there is a fire, they want you to take the stairs INSTEAD of the elevators so they put them next to each other for easy access. all of these things do make sense, the thing is, in america these days, we want the easy way out. so instead of doing the right thing by ourselves, we put each other down for not taking care of ourselves or for having the willpower and common sense to do so. i suspect it's b/c we hate each other for not caring about the survival of the species. if you don't take care of you, how can i expect you to help me make sure that we all get to live to see another day? get healthy america! and this "skinny bitch" will be looking at you with disdane til you do.
Devynn at 12:03PM on Aug 15th 2007
87. This discussion reminds me of a remark my sister made when we were in high school: "Of course babies like you better. Would you rather lay on a nice soft pillow or a rock?" Skinny bitch, my sister. At 5'9" and 130lb, she's pretty hot, yet she's constantly fretting about her weight. She once tried out for a modeling gig and was told her butt was too big. Um, kay. She wears a six or smaller, but check out the ghetto booty... I called her a bitch. She is. She definitely gives skinny and heavy girls alike dirty looks, because she's constantly comparing herself to everyone around her. She calls me fat, yet is openly jealous of my DD rack. It annoys her that overweight women can be confident and happy--because she is neither. Tall, blonde, green-eyed, athletic, curvy and yet muscular, the girl couldn't be more gorgeous, yet she's miserable. Glaring skinny girls should succor your pity, ladies. How sad to waste your own youth and beauty worrying about other people's perceptions.
Denise at 11:17AM on Aug 15th 2007
88. Great article Mo! If you're ever in need of a nap, my chest is available.
nikki at 11:20AM on Aug 15th 2007
89. Why do we always have someone like Clay who pipes in and ruins what was a great read!
It was sending me down memory lane like some of the others have said. I myself have always been on the thin side, but most of my family has not been. To be honest, I thought my mother was healthier and looked alot better when she was heavy. She was tall 5'10" so she carried it well, but she was a whole lotta woman and strong as a horse.
Clay-you have issues you need work out before you go commenting on any blogs. You do not have the right to call people names the way you have above. You should be ashamed. Bet you wouldn't have the nerve to do that to someone's face and if you did, you should be stomped down. Enough said. Good day to all :)
Rick at 11:21AM on Aug 15th 2007
90. Mo, it takes real courage to admit that you are a "Chubby Chaser". I thought you liked men. That's not important because you are chasing something and it's not a child. Skinny B's are leading a small rebellion. How many of them do you see standing in the long Starbucks or McDonald's line every morning ordering a non-fat venti or a double quarter pounder with cheese? Skinny women are trying to rule the world because someone with money told them they are beautiful. I'm "Old School". I like big butts. I think Ann Coulter and Posh Spice should eat something and take a nap. Somebody should offer them a cookie. Big Mamas know how to give us a love we never forget. It makes me sick that Skinny B's think they are it because they don't get drug tested. You ain't "It" Miss Thang! Mo, do you drool while sleeping? Try it sometimes, it's like skiing until you hit the peak.
Cecil Jones at 11:27AM on Aug 15th 2007