Recently, on the TV show “Project Runway,” the designers had to design for real women…in fact, for one another’s mothers!
Several of them whined constantly that they weren’t used to designing for “that kind” of body. Made me want to run all the way to New York and slap them.
Well, it may or may not be that plumper people face health issues, but it would be nice to eliminate stress from social pressure to be skinny as a risk factor.
Sometimes, I think we would all be better off thinking South Pacific style. Fat okay. Muumuus, okay. Might as well relax and be what you are instead of of what you might only be able to be when you’re 20…
Of all tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their consciences.
I agreee. I too have always been “skinny”. The most I ever weighed was 125 and that was when I was pregnant 29 years ago. My Dad was thin and so is most of his family. We’re just a scrawny bunch.
Of course I loved it in the 60’s when Twiggy was the height of fashion. (I looked like that)
My theory is that everyone is supposed to be a certain normal weight for them. For some it is thin, for some thick. As long as they feel good and are healthy there should be no problem.
In my youthful adventures in the desert outposts of Southern Arizona in the late sixties, I met a hard-rock miner named Pete Espinosa. Pete was fond of big women. Ginger, his partner, lived with him in their little mining trailer near the Mexican border. I was a refugee from the north, trying to find a quiet place to get my head straight in the middle of the Vietnam War. I remember it clearly. It was a cold night, and he explained it to me this way, “Only God could love a skinny woman on a night like this.” I don’t know why, but I took his advise to heart. As another acquaintence of mind was fond of saying, “A hint to the wise is sufficient”.
I had a great-uncle named John Bottoms. He took a very large woman to wife.
He was made fun of by nearly everyone in the small town of Antoine, Arkansas.
One day, when the local Methodist minister (John Bottoms, himself, being Church of Christ) was asking him if he new the story of Jack Spratt–
Jack Spratt could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean
And so it was betwixt them both
They licked the platter clean
–and John Bottoms looked the minister in the eye, and recalling that the minister’s wife was quite thin, told him “Preacher, when you go home at night, you sleep on the springs; I sleep on a soft feather bed.”
I’m sure women don’t diet because they think men like emaciated women. Plenty of people must have said it before, but I’m sure women don’t dress to appeal to men, either. The whole fashion thing is, I think, about women dressing to get a reaction from other women. Men don’t even know anything about men’s fashion. They have to be told what’s fashionable by their wives, girfriends or, if they’re really desparate, their mommas. Fashion has absolutely nothing to do with men, … apart from a few gay guys.
I agree generally, Wombat…but although “fashion” may indeed not be “for men,” and women may not dress for “men”, we may occasionally be seized by an irrational compulsion to dress for “a man.” A subtle distinction… (E.g., I will never believe that high heels were invented by women).
I’m long past all that nonsense myself, of course.
A subtle but important distinction, scottie. I have no objection to being ‘dressed for’ by a certain woman, but I stop short of requesting high heels, even though I know what they are for.
I have two close friends who also, in your words, prefer fluffy women.
I also know several other men who do–many of them work in the I.T. industry. I think that’s because we tend to have less prejudice in general than John Q. Public does. I think there are two likely reasons: I.T. tends to attract people who are both intelligent and nonconformist; also, years of communicating with each other by typing in text-only mediums (like chat, for instance) have made us very inclusive rather than very exclusive. When a common topic of debate, for instance, is whether dolphins have souls and should be considered “human,” (since they are intelligent and use language), the differences between a thin woman and a fluffy one really start to seem pretty insignificant.
My advice–befriend the folks who work with computers. You never know what might happen–but friends are always a Good Thing in their own right.
–James
P.S. a minor clarification: I like women in general, not just the fluffy ones.
There’ve been several cutie pie threads where I’ve said, “She’s too thin” (Andrea Corr, Rachel Rey), I wasn’t joking. And I really do think Cass Elliot was hot.
A new single woman rolled into our office space like a little beachball and I have to force myself away from that cubicle (more like five beachballs put together just so). I’m too married. Ironically to a thin woman.
I guess it just goes to show there’s someone for everyone.
But that’s not what I wanted to post about. I wanted to post about the definition of obesity vs fat vs plump and so on. But never mind.
I’m not sure there’s a difference in the definition of these terms; the difference is more in when each is used. “Obesity” is considered a medical term, and as such has a more exact definition (though currently under debate as to the particulars); “fat” is a very generic term and can also be a very insulting term if used in certain ways or in a certain tone of voice; words like “plump” and “fluffy” tend to be used either when someone is trying to be very careful to not insult someone, or they are also sometimes used to denote someone who is pleasantly overweight.
A note on the term “fat:” people who advocate fat acceptance (and I am one of them, in case you haven’t figured that out yet) are working to reclaim the word fat as being an OK word. Fat is something that I am in much the same way that male is something that I am; I make no apologies for either, and there is no need to call me anything else in either case.