The Importance of Hair

It's amazing how critical
HAIR
becomes
when one's body is
chubby.
I found an adorable
blond shag,
saved my $$$
for months,
and build up this haircut
like a trip to
Disneyland
or the Vatican.
Arranged my first babysitters
to care for my one year old
and went off to
visit the Promised Land.
When I left Dante's Inferno
with orange hair
and a too-short cut,
for the first time
I felt
thoroughly FAT
(go figure).
Tried to make it work,
but you can't turn a turnip
into a rose.
Plunked down even more $$$
to get it fixed
by someone else...
now my hair is different
than the blond shag,
but I love it.
How svelte I feel!

The Story of More

I was raised by a Culture
who's one promise
is MORE.
If you work hard,
you'll get MORE...
If you're beautiful
(smart, thin, nice, etc)
you'll get MORE...
If you're successful
you'll get MORE...
and yet,
it seems we are
MORE-ing
ourselves to death.
As SOON as we have
the newest techno gadget,
there's MORE even BETTER
available.
As soon as we HAVE the man
there are MORE that are BETTER...
and as soon as we break up with
the "inferior" man
we "feel lonely" without one.
As soon as we have a new pair of shoes
we want a dress...
and as soon as we hit our goal weight
we realize that our thighs are still too chubby...
our blood sugar's too high...
we cannot quite finish that marathon...
or we "need" plastic surgery.
The story of MORE
is really the
story of
futility...
MORE is a
four-letter word, after all.
For the new year
(and all the years to come)
I'm stopping the "hero's quest" for
MORE
and instead going to seek
what IS.
My, my...look how SUCCESSFUL I am...
how HAPPY I am...
how LOVED I am...
how FULL my life is...
how could I possibly fit
MORE
onto my plate?
MMMmmmMMM...
life is GRAND.

Fashion Flush

I have been spending
FAR too much money
buying adorable clothes
for my baby girl...
she just looks so
PERFECT
in everything!
After the bazillionth
outfit
I had to look
at my hidden motive...
I'm buying clothes for her
rather than for me.
Nothing I buy
looks that good on me,
and I'm living
vicariously
through her
perfection.
What's a chubby
fashionista
to do?

Phat

I saw a GORGEOUS woman
this weekend in the mall...
Exotic face
Huge, heart-shaped ass
Long braided hair
Tiny little waist
Sultry mounded belly...
Every curve
and fold
and dimple
could be seen through her
Skin-tight leggings...
She strode
tall and proud in her
Platform heels
Bright, bold colors
Huge, chandelier earrings and
Scarlet lips...
and did I mention the
adoring man's hand
that clutched her rump
like a first prize trophy?
Any white woman
of the same dimensions
would have hidden her
bodacious beauty
away
for not conforming to
society's standards.
I applaud such
independent
beautiful
Black Women...
What style
what aplomb
what finesse...
to turn "fat" into
"Phat".

Beautiful Motherhood

Wouldn't it be
revolutionary
if motherhood
were the new "beautiful"?
If pregnant women
(NOT those skinny celebrities who
stay thin throughout their pregnancy
because of a genetic anomaly
or personal trainer)
with their huge bellies
stretch marks
spider veins
puffy hands, neck, and ankles
were called "lovely"?
Or what if the mother of a newborn
with the flabby tummy
dark sleepless circles under her eyes
and huge, leaky breasts
was called "gorgeous"?
Or the older mothers
with their crows feet eyes
sagging neck and breasts
and lumpy hips and butt
were called "goddesses"?
Wouldn't it be
revolutionary
if women were considered
"knockouts"
for fulfilling their
fertile genetic destiny?
Rather than chasing
the little boys
on birth control
with fake boobs?

It's okay to be fat...

Regardless of the bad press,
it's okay to be fat.
Fat can be lovely
lush
abundant
and
curvaceous.
Zaftig
is a
state of mind.
Give yourself permission
to be
whoever
you are.
Only THEN
can you begin
to aim
for the
future.

Grotesque

A baby eats
zealously
smacking lips
mmMMMMmmmming loudly
closing eyes in ecstasy
...and we call the baby
"adorable"

A woman doing the same...
"sexy"

A man doing the same...
"appreciative"

A fat person doing the same...
"grotesque"