“ I use the word "fat." I use that word because that's what people are: they're fat. They're not bulky; they're not large, chunky, hefty or plump. And they're not big-boned. Dinosaurs were big-boned. These people are not overweight: this term somehow implies there is some correct weight. There is no correct weight. Heavy is also a misleading term. An aircraft carrier is heavy; it's not fat. Only people are fat, and that's what fat people are! They're fat! ”
—George Carlin
When/if people call me fat, I honestly expect them to follow up with a comment on how my hair is brown.
Because if you’re commenting on the obvious, you better comment on the fact that my hair is a normal color for once in the past few years. It’s not a thing I do often.
After that, you have my permission to leave me be whilst I gently caress my chub lovingly to the sounds of my mating call.
My fatness? Yeah, about that..
Recently been inspired by all the fatmail I’ve been receiving to collect pics of outfits throughout the year and post them!
Everyone loves a short fat girl that supposedly looks like Snooki with the voice of Meg from Family Guy, right?
Also, there’s this blog - http://fuckyeahchubbyfashion.tumblr.com/ it’s pretty amazing, full of freedom. Look into it.
OH HEY ALSO
When thin people take pictures of themselves, and they like those pictures, and they show off those pictures because they like them, are they considered to be glorifying being thin? Or is that just considered a person showing a photo of themselves? Why is it that any time a fat person is both visible and happy at the same time, it is called glorification. Fat and riding a bike? Glorification. Fat and dancing? Glorification. Fat and doing anything remotely fun and obviously enjoying it and being even a little bit happy with yourself? GLORIFICATION. We fat people can not even EXIST in a state of anything other than utter misery without being told we are glorifying fatness. It’s called LIVING MY LIFE. Why don’t you try it sometime.
Thin is In and White is Alright
[I wrote this in 2008. Originally posted at fatshionista.com]
The Fantasy of Being Thin is not just about becoming small enough to be perceived as more acceptable. It is about becoming an entirely different person – one with far more courage, confidence, and luck than the fat you has. It’s not just, “When I’m thin, I’ll look good in a bathing suit”; it’s “When I’m thin, I will be the kind of person who struts down the beach in a bikini, making men weep.”
http://kateharding.net/2007/11/27/the-fantasy-of-being-thin/
Here is the thing about the Fantasy of Thin: it’s never held that much power over me. I grasp it intellectually, but it doesn’t really speak to my personal experience. I think because the images and stories I see of women whose lives become amazing after dieting, are about white women. I don’t dream about the thin me having men and women fall at my feet, because that thin me would still be black and thus not beautiful according to mainstream beauty standards. I’ve been rejected more for my race than my fatness. I don’t sit around thinking about how a slimmer version of myself would get promoted at work, since dieting wouldn’t open doors for me that wouldn’t get slammed shut again by racism and sexism. That’s not to say that I’m not unaffected by the fantasies of the wonderful things that would happen if I was thin. I get the message that I am a lazy ugly failure for being fat in surround sound every day. I just happen to get that announcement with a special chorus of “why can’t you be less black?”
I think that “fantasy of thin” is about trying to look like what American culture says is beautiful: being thin and white (ideally with blond hair and blue eyes). When you get closer to looking like that “All American” beauty then you get the associated benefits and privileges. Pretty women are seen as trophies, as more healthy, more successful, etc. However, those benefits come with the cost of trying to live up to an impossible patriarchal standard, and often people assume that beauty is the opposite of intelligence. As a Woman of Color, I’ve felt the pain of knowing that, because of my race, I cannot be beautiful. “Classic beauty” is defined as whiteness. It may be possible to be “unconventionally” attractive, but even that dubious honor tells me my features are abnormal. From this position of pain also comes the opportunity to push back against mainstream standards, and embrace other ideas of beauty. For me, learning to love my fat body is tied up in learning to love my black body. Valuing my thick tightly coiled hair and full lips, has gone hand in hand with loving my rounded belly and big strong thighs.
Fatphobia is just one way in which people are marginalized for having a body that doesn’t match societal standards. Many of us are also fighting multiple forms of marginalization and oppression including racism, ableism, transphobia, and homophobia. For me, an important part of Fat Acceptance, and really any movement for social justice, is understanding that ending marginalization for reasons other groups is an effort that deserves both energy and support. It’s also important to accept that some people may prioritize other forms of oppression in their lives, and we shouldn’t criticize them for ignoring the “real” problem of fat hatred. We all need to remember that there is no hierarchy of oppression and that none of us can be free when one of us is oppressed.
Much love to Audre Lorde for There is no Hierarchy of Oppression Homophobia and Education (New York: Council on Interracial Books for Children, 1983). Also a reminder that this is a reflection of my personal experience of being a fat woman of color. My experience should not be taken as universal.
