Recently, there appears to be a boom of fatness (with an F) in the media and the shocking thing is that is has a positive spin. The new TV show Huge is about big-boned teenagers who must deal with homonal upheaval and lack of food at a fat camp. I haven't watched it yet but so far, all of the reviews I have read have given the program a positive spin. Most of the kudos have gone to the Nicki Blonsky character who is happy in her hugeness and was sent to camp against her will by her thin-is-in obsessed parents. Even Glee has a fluffy character - granted it is a big black girl who is repeatedly addressed as Aretha by Sue Sylvester (hopefully for her powerful voice but probably for her ample chunkiness).
I have mixed feelings though about the "Let's make the fat people sweat like pigs and look like fools so they can become skinny" shows. For example, Dance Your Ass Off which is hosted by Eddie Murphy's baby mama and former Spice Girls Mel B aka Scary Spice. Rather than have that sinewy Nazi Jillian Michaels scream at them until their huevos fall off, the contestants have to put on a choreographed dance routine every week. Think Dancing With The Stars but replace that Pussycat Dolls local girl with Roseanne with a bad dye job. What I like about the show is that they do not put contestants in fat people clothings - nothing loose, flowy or muumuu-ish in sight. The girls dress as hoochie as any bamboo b-yatch in a Lil Wayne video and the guys wear their pants down way way low. Sometimes it's hard to tell on close up shots whether you are looking at someone's rumbling mountains of cleavage or a sweaty butt crack rising like a full moon over some BVDs. Most of the contestants (unlike Dancing with the Starts) are pretty likeable and some can even really really dance. The first time you see fat folks doing a booty shake and witness the rumbling of the flubber, it can be cringe-worthy - even for those of us who naturally jiggle like jello - but after a while, you are kind of amazed at how light of foot many of the people are.
I mean, everyone loved watching Rerun on What's Happening pop and lock, right? Even if you couldn't tear yourself away from the bouncing of his moobs (man boobs for you folks not in the know) or his double chin hopping in time with his belly.
The sudden chic-ness of the chunky has made me wonder if perhaps it is time to embrace the flubberness that has been and continues to be me. I have always been Petunia Pig-esq from the time I was born until now. I was skinny for about three months and then was able to eat solid food and it was over. Went from shopping at the regular sizes in the girl's department at Sears (yes, yes, I was ghetto fabulous even then) to wearing CHUBETTE sizes seemingly overnight. I always wondered what marketing genius thought of using the word Chubette? I mean, like you really were going to call a friend and go, "I'm so happy because I get to buy a new Chubette outfit today?' Fat boys bought clothes from the HUSKY department. That's totally manly and macho right? Husky makes you think of Grizzly Adams, B.O. and chopping down trees. Chubette makes you think of stuffing a box of Hostess twinkies down you pie hole while tears roll down your chubette cheeks. I hated having to buy clothes because I knew I would not be able to shop with the normal girls but would have to move with the rest of my bovine herd to the Chubette section.
I still am haunted by remembrances of thinking I would grow up and have to shop at Da Trunk! Remember that store? For the chic ladies of lumpiness. I mean, I loved Loyal Garner but the prospect of spending my adult life in polyester caftans - no matter how perfect my make-up and sushi roll hairdo ould be - was less than desirable. Not that it motivated me to stop eating malasadas or anything like that. I figured if need be, I could rock the crap out of a caftan if need be.
I have gotten to the point where I am now the fattest person in the room regardless of gender, race, sexual orientation or food obsessive disease. Nonetheless, I never seem to believe that I am the fattest person in the room and realize that I have something like reverse anorexia. They feel they are too fat so they don't eat, I feel like I am way too skinny so I gotta eat everything in sight - particularly if it is fried, greasy and will inevitably result in buying a new Bentley for my cardiologist. I used to get upset about people constantly pointing out how much weight I have put on or trying to come up with a witty retort when people ask if I am pregnant again but it's just not worth it because it usually sends me running to a box of Napples.
You all know I am a big fan of RuPaul's Drag Race, mostly because I dream of someday dressing up one of my sons as Jujube or Ongina, but also because of the way the big bad Mama contestants were celebrated. They weren't singled out with a sneer and a hint of pity as "the plus size girls" like on America's Top Model but were judged and treated the same as all of the other drag queens. They were simply beautiful because they were fat not inspite of it. Google "Pork Chop" or "Two Piece and a Biscuit" and "RuPaul's Drag Race" and you'll understand.
So, now I am just going to embrace the Chubette that I am. Yes, I wear the same size bra as your average Sumo wrestler but every bleached blonde bimbo on Real Housewives paid a year of their tortured husband's salary to get boobs the size of mine. Sure I can only take 3 steps at at time before I have to sit down but it gives me the chance to really enjoy the scenery around me. Okay, so I will probably keel over from a big hunk of personal pan pizza lodging in my heart but I will die with a smile on my face and a string of cheese stuck in my teeth.
Yesterday, I was walking one of the veterans to his car. He told me he could go on his own but I told him I needed the exercise. He goes, "Oh, why, you not THAT fat. You only little bit husky so that's good. That's that kind wahine I like 'cause you can grab on."
One day at a time......
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