Fat Friday - Fat Bottomed Girls

An exhibition advert for the Opera Gallery in New York. Found in a recent issue of ARTnews Magazine.

And one more from the artist Jeanne Lorioz:

I expect bad days, but not THIS.

A huge zit on my bottom lip line right near the corner of my mouth. It’s about the size of Utah, and just as painful to deal with as two missionaries on your doorstep.

Just kidding. Jesus loves you missionaries. And me. And my zit.

Ewww. Now I’m just grossing myself out.

A little less like a walking black hole of despair.

A friend and colleague said to me recently: “Morgan, every day doesn’t have to be a struggle.”

It hit me pretty hard because I couldn’t begin to describe to you what a day without struggle looks like. What does it look like - what does it feel like - to go through a day when you’re not bombarded by thoughts of never being enough. I’ll never be smart enough, funny enough, charming enough, or capable enough to make up for the fact that I’m fat.

When I try to describe my thought processes during any given part of the day to my therapist, she’ll tell me she gets exhausted just listening to a description of what’s going on in my head. ‘Course, my first impulse is to say, “Well everybody is thinking all the time. That’s not weird. Right?” As soon as a I want to say it, I get the feeling that well, no, a lot people probably don’t spend their days with these kind of racing thoughts. Not that many people are living with the Eating Disorder Hamster Wheel of Death. Ah, you know, I take that back. PLENTY of women (and a few men) are out there living with it.

So I finally went to see my doctor about procuring a little slice of quiet, a little tentative hope that there might be days out there without a struggle. Talking about eating disorders and depression sucks (and I had to be weighed - just fucking shoot me now), so I had a total meltdown in the doctor’s office. I guess it provided evidence enough to suggest that anti-depressants might bring me back from the edge a little. At least enough so that I could focus on therapy a little harder and my days wouldn’t be swallowed up entirely by my brain running circles around my size. Wish me luck!

Reading: The Harlequin by Laurell K. Hamilton (mmm…vampires)
Watching: The Promise, directed by Kaige Chen (watches like a beautiful, quick-paced Chinese fairytale, and with super-hot villains. Yum!)
Listening: Sleeping with Ghosts by Placebo

One of those slack-jaw, say-it-ain’t-so moments.

I’m still trying to get my brain around this one. Pick my jaw up off the floor, put my eyeballs back in to their sockets, and I still can’t believe that a Brazillian yogurt company would make these kinds of ads for a diet yogurt.

Featuring fattened-up women in iconic movie scenes and the tagline, “Forget about it. Men’s preference will never change. Fit Light Yogurt,” this is what you get:

I guess the idea is that I’m supposed to be so grossed out by these fat, disgusting ridiculously gorgeous women, and run straight for the nearest dairy section. (Although, it seems that someone forgot to tell the models, as they do look quite pleased with themselves. As they should be!) Or maybe husbands and boyfriends are expected to shamefacedly admit that yes, they’ve always thought this is true, but he’s been too worried to suggest that you lose a few pounds. The tagline is such a play towards the old, tired assumption that a woman bases all her aesthetic choices on male expectations. Dress for men. Wear make-up for men. Become rail thin for men.

I found this via Too Fat For Fashion via Feministing via The F-Word. What I didn’t seem to find (with a few rare exceptions) were men commenting on the vile nature of these ads. The comments from men that did appear seemed to fall along the “I’d do her” line. Great, good to know, guys, but why aren’t you helping us mobilize against the brutality of thin culture? You’re letting your sisters, daughters, mothers, lovers, wives, and girlfriends swirl the drain while trying to fight off a culture that is producing eating disorders at an alarming rate. Why won’t you throw us a lifeline? Why won’t you get out there and tell Cosmo to shove it up their collective asses?

I liked FishWithFeet’s comment:

Basically this ad says:

“Since men can’t change, YOU should.
Sincerely,
The Patriarchy”

So what’s it going to be, Guys? Are you going to help us out? Tell us our soft tummies and generous hips suit us perfectly? Or are you going to hang us out to dry? Leave us obsessing about food, running ourselves ragged at the gym, and crying ourselves to sleep at night because we couldn’t say no to that one cookie? So many of you say that confidence is what makes a woman sexy, but I say it’s time for you to get off of your fucking asses and help build a world women can be confident in. Do something already!

Fat Friday - Trying to Fit

I don’t have any Rah-Rah FatGrrliness to offer today. Things have been pretty discouraging lately.

Misnomer.

Fellow blogger Eyeteeth pointed me to this article over at the LA Times about…fatbloggers.

At first, my little heart leaps like gazelle at the thought that fat activist folks are getting press about their blogs. I imagined a thoughtful article examining the spectrum of bloggers tackling issues of sizism, fat acceptance, eating disorders, and the ongoing search for a fat girl’s perfect pair of jeans. Try again…author Alex Pham is talking about bloggers who are fat and using the social aspects of blogging in order to lose weight.

THAT is not fatblogging. THAT is dietblogging. Big difference, Alex.

Once I got over the initial disappointment, I wasn’t surprised to see the article full of quotes from fatbloggers dietbloggers who use the blog as a means of accountability:

“It’s also a masochistic exercise. Every Friday, I log my weight. If I fail, I look like an idiot. It’s highly motivating.” -Joseph Jaffe (emphasis mine)

Of course! Humiliation as a motivator. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh wait, this culture already tells me I should be ashamed and humiliated over my size. Putting it out there in the public sphere and inviting criticism when you don’t meet a goal weight is a fucked-up strategy. Soliciting the shaming from the public (”Joe, you shouldn’t have had that cake on Tuesday. And now look what happened…you’re not any thinner”) implies that you think you deserve it; that you ought to be ashamed. And that is simply not the case. And when it goes too far you end up with Mike Hirshland’s problem:

“I started not to blog because I didn’t want to write about how badly I was failing. I didn’t want to have to admit that I had that big old steak last night.”

Double-helping of shame anyone?

I want to see this dietblogging shit end as soon as possible. There are countless reasons for which people start blogs - from the purely informational to the uncomfortably confessional - but we have no business jumping in to tell people what they should or should not be eating, how much they should or should not weigh.

Listening To: Innocence by Avril Lavigne, and The Fountain soundtrack by Clint Mansell
Reading: Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters: The Frightening New Normalcy of Hating Your Body by Courtney E. Martin

Handing us our asses. Again.

Headed out to see Paprika this weekend - what a gorgeous film. Still more proof that the Japanese can kick our asses up and down the block when it comes to all things animation.

My only complaint about this otherwise stunning film is the portrayal of Dr. Tokita. This character is the genius scientist that invents the technology around which the film revolves. Dr. Tokita is also fat. His character design is so over-the-top fat, it’s hard to understand because there are no other absurdly fat characters. And there are scenes that just exacerbate his ridiculousness (getting stuck in an elevator, sitting down to lunch with co-workers and eating dish after dish after dish of food while his co-workers eat nothing), and all the while everyone is lamenting: How could such a genius reside in such a fat, slobby, immature body? As if it’s so surprising that there is still room for his brain underneath all that flesh. As if they are genuinely surprised he can think of anything other than food, let alone invent a revolutionary piece of technology. But the part that really pisses me off is that despite all of the ways they treat him, he still gets the hot kick-ass Dr. Chiba in the end. She falls in love with him. Apparently, she was able to see past all that fat to find his beautiful inner qualities. Score one more for the Beta Males of the world.

This would never have happened if their genders had been reversed, and Dr. Chiba was the clownishly huge character. Period.

Fat Friday - Cupcakes PDX

I’ve curated a little collection for you of images from the Cupcake PDX dances put on in Portland, Oregon. I wish we had a Cupcake dance in Minneapolis. I wonder what it would take to get one started? Hmmm….

The FATASS Cheerleaders! Give me an F-A-T!

Keep on truckin’

Work on the studio continues. I made another trip to IKEA this weekend with former resident Julya, and found more goodies to outfit the studio. Kiba is making herself at home, and I look forward to spending many an hour with my baby-dog here.

More in-progress photos coming soon.

Silk Road: Spring 2007 Collection

Kiba and I were at GreyFest 2007 weekend before last, and I made it my mission to find Kiba a new collar. Because every girl needs a party dress - whether it’s a collar, tux, or full-out black cocktail mini with heels. Here’s what we found at the Silk Road booth.

Those ears! *chomp*