Very much just another blog

My arse curves outwards

with 3 comments

Today I braved newly washed jeans. It’s not something for the faint-hearted; breathing in and squeezing in for that length of time requires a healthy ticker, determination and an arse which, if not tiny, is prepared to squish in whichever direction necessary. I got in, obviously, or I’d be extremely naked right now. And as the day has passed, they have relented; I can walk, sit and type with near ease.

Don’t misunderstand me; I’m not huge but I am what is popularly known as ‘curvy’. Until about 17 minutes ago when I decide to blog about this, I understood curvy to mean FAT. A thinly veiled  expression coined and lobbed out by the likes of Heat Magazine, pretending they really ‘get’ today’s real women, then encouraging everyone to sneer at someone who’s had a meal in the last three weeks.  In fact, it’s worse than that: if you look curvy then (really) you’re fat; if you respond and lose weight you’re a terrible emaciated example to young girls. And in between women are pushed from one side to the other. Bastard, fucknut magazines. Bastard Zara for making me feel like an obese dwarf in those amazing trousers that I could only nearly walk in when I tried them on last week.

It’s not just magazines either, even those how to dress properly programmes and sites are mean; I looked up my body shape the other day and I’m either a ‘brick’ or a ‘wedge’. I’m not totally sure which, not that it matters because whichever way you look at it there’s a problem with my shape. There’s something wrong with it and something that needs to be disguised. My curves cannot be disguised. Because they curve outwards. Obviously.

D’you remember a couple of months ago when Karl Lagerfeld said that only fat mummies object to thin models? I knew then something was wrong. I’ve been a SLAVE to diets and food fascism for fucking years. I was  sure that my only path to beauty was if there was less of me walking on it. But this can’t possibly true….

I know we’ve all heard this argument a million times. I know we have. And I’m not a plank; with a reasonable head on I can understand that it’s crazy. But what’s got me then because I *still* somewhere along the line think that being thin is good.

So. What to do. I think, in the first place , I shall rail against it. I shall proclaim Lagerfeld to be a misogynist wanker. WANKER. And applaud Brigitte‘s decision to use ‘real’ women in their photo shoots. I shall never buy a copy of Heat Magazine ever, ever again and I’ll pretend I don’t want to be several inches taller  and a bit less like wedge-like. And then, truth be told, I’ll probably start worrying about my curves again… all my many, many curves.

We should stick together, people, man and woman alike. Because really seriously this is being perpetuated somewhere. And I’m fucking starving.


Written by elikafm

December 16, 2009 at 8:00 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged with , , ,

3 Responses

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  1. …and if you have curves in the magazine accepted places, you can’t also be skinny. Fact.


    December 16, 2009 at 8:22 pm

  2. The people that propagate that kind of shite are hideous: ugly in spirit, mind and, more often than not, face. Forgive the public compliment, but you’re beautiful, and anyone who makes you feel otherwise, even for a second, is a fuckpiece of the highest, highest order.

    As a serious, slightly less emotional point, didn’t we deal with all of this ten years ago? Didn’t we come to the decision that heroin chic was, well, a bit shit, and that women like Monica Bellucci were actually, well, you know, kind of amazing looking? I guess, as fashion seems to be cyclical, so does cuntiness and body-fascism.

    The blokes are on your side. Just so you know.

    Adland Suit

    December 16, 2009 at 11:10 pm

  3. How can anyone take Karl Lagerfield seriously? I mean just look at him http://tinyurl.com/yaq5m4e
    Me, I’m rollin with Sir Mixalot http://tinyurl.com/ydpkfpf


    December 17, 2009 at 11:58 am

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