Everyone and their auntie has an opinion about the photo of a size 10/12 model’s belly that appeared on page 194 of this month’s Glamour.
*yawn* Wake me when it’s over.
*snore, snort, whuzzay?*
What do you mean, “What do I think?” I think I’m a 5’4″, 300lb woman who’s female but not feminine and wouldn’t buy a copy of Glamour unless it had a hard-hitting investigative piece on the impact of Final Crisis on Earth-52 sandwiched between a review of entropic dice towers and the monthly feature “Zombie Attack Preparedness”.
I’m not the niche market for the kinda crap Glamour advertisers peddle.
Yeah, it’s crap. Makeup is crap, ‘beauty creams’ are crap, don’t even get me started on diets and diet pills (CRAP!), and they sure as shootin’ don’t advertize clothing for women like me in Glamour. I have to put all those skills I’ve learned working in Logistics to source hard-to-find well-fitting and not-muuumuuy clothes in size Fat.
(Okay, I cheat and crib notes from Fatshionista a lot.)
So, yeah, this rant is on my religion blog. Why is it on my religion blog? Let me tell you why it’s on my religion blog: Sit your asses (skinny or fat) down and quit judging people’s bodies.
Especially your own.
God created you in your mother’s womb, and we now know the Creator Herself did that by knitting together the strands of your DNA (knit two adenine, purl one thymine) and determined you’d be about yea high, with that colored hair and your Auntie Ro’s pug nose and Uncle Jeph’s knobbly knees. God created you differently from everyone else because God delights in creating, delights in originality, delights in you.
And magazines like Glamour and television and movies and all the media sits down and explains that you really, really shouldn’t look like God made you, you should give them money and they will make you look BETTER than God made you, because God made you WRONG (for twenty easy payments of $199.95 plus shipping and handling).
I call bullshit on that, and I will continue to call bullshit on it with every breath I take, with every step I dance, with every ounce of joy and love I can muster for myself and for the wide, wonderful, uniqueness of myself and of this world.