Friday, December 2, 2011

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

A women's weight is a very sensitive subject. Don't ever broach it. Unless she is actually on the verge of never fitting through her front door and her heart is about to give out. Even then it's tricky. You'll probably end up with a serious snot klap.  

A few weeks ago somebody told me I was fat, actually they said I was "chubby" and that I should lose weight. Which translates in "women speak" to fat.

I don't need someone to tell me I am chubby to know that I need to lose a few kilos. My jeans tell me that every other day I pull them on. My closet is a constant reminder that I could do with some more toning.  

So when I was told by some sleezy french dude while shopping at my favourite second hand store that I was "chubby". I went hot and then cold with a) embarrasment and b) outrage.

Frankly I went a bit mental at him. Lucky I was in an environment where all the sales ladies know me very well and who didn't find it the least bit funny either.

I literally went "oh no you didnt" at him. That morning I was feeling like a million bucks in my Woolworths studio collection black jumpsuit that is so flattering and chic. It was a beautiful day and I decided to walk down to 'Anything Goes' on a search for printed jerseys. (I found 4 for R200.00)

Wanker french dude thought he was so cool standing there with his suede shoes on, flaunting his creepy french man accent "zis shop iz jus filled wis lovely gaaarments and ladies", he then walks up to me and fully looks me in the face, grips my arm and says "you are loooking very chubby, you also need to lose ze weight."

Well, I swear, I felt my insides fall and I waited a moment to really process what this frog said and then I went befuck.

"Nobody tells a woman she looks fat, whether she needs to lose weight or not." How dare you insult me, you don't even know you fucking rude prick."

For fucks sakes, weight is a very personal issue and I deal with it in my own way. It's not like I sit around all day eating doughnuts and reading magazines and it's also not like I am some seriously overweight person. I'm a freaking size 36. That is not fat. Infact most days I fit into size 34 jeans depending on what I ate the day before.  

And for fucks sakes why is it that as women we have to constantly defend our weight, our looks, our fashion choices, what we eat, how much we do or don't exercise? WHY? The beauty of a woman is not dependant on this size of her jean pant!

I have no desire to be thin in a way that leaves me without my hips and my boobs. I love them, my boyfriend loves, guys love all of the above. Hello!

And I still run around in a bikini on the beach because all in all I love my body and I wouldn't be me without it.

I hope that man’s teeny tiny little winky falls off and he becomes obese. What a prick.
Dolls, any man that doesn’t like you right now as you are is a wanker. Lose him. You’re beautiful just the way you are.


Marilyn was a size 36 and she is still today considered a sex symbol.






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