Thursday, October 28, 2010

If You've Ever Felt Fat. . . With Absolutely No Apologies to Maura Kelly or Marie Claire's EIC Joanna Coles

Dear tactless Maura Kelly and her questionable editor Joanna Coles

Ladies, have either of you ever woken up in the morning and felt like it was going to be one of your fat days?  You know instinctively that none of your clothes will look right on you, you assume everyone at work will see the cellulite on your legs, and your raging PMS hormone-addled body is screaming for chocolate, salt, or a combination of the two.  (French fries dunked in a chocolate shake?  Why, yes I will!)  So when I came across this drivel, I'm sorry, this blog post which masquerades as a piece of freelance writing worthy of monetary compensation Should Fatties Get a Room? (Even on TV?), I am happy to say that I could care less about your ignorant, C minus creative arts class assessment on fat/big boned/obese people.  (And really, if you took out the word "Fatties" out of the title and inserted a different age/social/religious/ethnic group, for example, Welfare Recipients, Blacks, Mormons, Hasidic Jews, there would be one hell of a lawsuit and boycott on your hands.)

It's taken me almost 30 years to realize and understand what the ever witty Jen Lancaster says in her book Such a Pretty Fat, "I'm tired of books where a self-loathing heroine is teased to the point where she starves herself skinny in hopes of a fabulous new life.  And I hate the message that women can't possibly be happy until we all fit into our skinny jeans.  I don't find these stories uplifting: they make me want to hug these women and take them out for fizzy champagne drinks and cheesecakes and explain to them that until they figure out their insides, their outsides don't matter.(Emphasis mine)

See, my body type tends to be more like this:
She is so gorgeous!
What's not to like?

                         Instead of THIS:

I've seen healthier legs on a stork!
I want to scream, "Eat a damn sandwich!"
And I'm not going to apologize for my curves, I'm gonna embrace them!  Do you know how much women pay for a set of D-D-D in hopes of raising their self-esteem and garnering more looks from the male population?  I got these babies for free!  Should I apologize to you because my thighs touch when I stand up or that "Baby Got Back" by Sir-Mix-A-Lot celebrates women like me and not you?  Are you that unhappy in your love/emotional/physical life that you find it revolting to see an overweight person in love and enjoying life?  Do you somehow feel better knowing that the thousands of people who don't have this gift of understanding and security that I have so lately received are going to cry into their pints of ice cream while they mentally scourge themselves for being viewed as disgusting?

And while you think that your half-assed attempt of an apology (I'm sorry your feelings got hurt for what I said, even though what I said is right, and I'm actually a victim too) is going to cut it, don't count on it.  We live in a day and age where cell phones post videos directly to YouTube, blog posts can go viral in a matter of hours, and talking heads love to comment on 'controversial' topics (Joanna's words, not mine).  This isn't going to be swept under the rug that easily.  My mother said that when you say a word in anger, once it's out there, you can't take it back.  The damage has already been done.  So Ms. Kelly let this be a lesson to you, never trust an editor who goads you into writing on a topic that you have no real clue about, and understand when you piss off one friend, you've lost one friend.  When you piss off a large (pun intended) contingent on the internet, you're screwed.