CONFESSIONS OF A FAT GIRL

Clearly I am a Cow

Ok, now I'm no nutritional or physical expert but if Karolina Kurkova is being called "fat," then I am life-threateningly-obese, right? I mean, who ARE these idiots?

And is she in better shape in old photos then she is now? Sure. Would I still kill a hobo to look like her in ANY year? Yes.

The author of the article claims, in conclusion, that for as much as she earns, it should not be such a sturggle to stay toned. That this is her job. And frankly, I see his point and actually agree. However more than that, I think that when we, as society or as the media start lambasting MODELS for being FAT, we are sending out a bad message. To the model who, let's face it, probably has or had an eating disorder; to the industry; and to people who look up to these girls.

My point is, I think, is that there has to be a better way.

Read on and weigh in....

Is Victoria's Secret model Karolina Kurkova fat? You decide!

Fashion critics have blasted model Karolina Kurkova for looking too fat in a bikini.

Seriously.

The Czech model wore a bikini in a recent Cia Maritima runway show and revealed what the horrified style snobs called "back fat, love handles and cellulite."

Karolina Kurkova, 24, is one of the highest-earning models in the world, according to Forbes, and is best known for being a Victoria's Secret Angel and whose super-fit physique has graced the pages of international fashion mags.

But after the show during Sao Paulo's Fashion Week, a Brazilian paper noted that the leggy 5-foot-11 Kurkova "shocked" the audience when she appeared looking uncharacteristically chubby with "cellulite on her butt."

Boy, these fashion critics are harsh!

That said, let's compare how Karolina looked in this year's show to how she looked modeling a bikini in the 2006 Cia Maritima show. Then you decide if the critics are crazy. Or just reallyreallyreally picky.

                                     

To our eyes, it does appear that Karolina is a bit more toned and trim in the runway shots taken in 2006. But is she fat now? Not a chance. Curvy? Absolutely!

Still, don't feel too sorry for the poor maligned beauty. According to Forbes, the supermodel earns $5 million a year with this bod.

Call me crazy, but if your figure's earning those kind of figures, how hard is it to stay fighting fit? Isn't that your job?

source: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/thedishrag/2008/06/is-victorias-se.html

No, really.

And now, a confession.

I sweat. No, seriously -- when I sleep, I sweat horribly. I don't know what's going on but I just gross myself out lately. I wake up in literal POOLS of sweat. The best solution I've come up with so far is sleeping with my A/C on, keeping my room at 60 degrees. Doesn't matter if it's hot or cold outside - I still sweat.

My doctor has suggested I might have Hyperhidrosis but there is no cure for this so what does it matter? And there is no way to tell if I actually have some sweating disease or if I am just fat and sweating as a result. I mean, let's face it - I get warm easier. That just comes with the package.

This is all sort of an embarassing admittance but I'm not sleeping with any of you (not yet, anyway- wink, wink) and what the hell - I've managed not to hold back too much up til now.

Only time will tell on this. And God help me, my sleeping habits and my electric bill til then.

All Woman

First of all, I do apologize for my absence. I would love to tell you some insanely gripping story about why I couldn't blog but it really all boils down to my being lazy, unmotivated and unoriginal.

Last night, I was trying on a bridesmaids dress I am set to wear in June and I have to tell you, I felt ridiculous. I wear dresses about as often as it snows in Los Angeles and there I was, in something satin and shiny, cleavage showing, arms exposed... My goodness, you could see LEG. Part of me wanted to laugh, part of me wanted to cry and part of me wanted to put on the nearest pair of jeans in the worst way.

I find that one of the things I struggle with most at this weight and size is my feminimity. I've always leaned a little more toward tomboy than girly-girl but all the same, I am still a woman, first and foremost. I still have my needs and wants, my curves, an unreasonable obsession with shoes and accessories... I do wear makeup...  But my size, I feel, makes me so unfeminine. So much so that I wonder if my constant loneliness is more about that than about an actual desire to be with someone. maybe I just want to be with someone to prove I am fully woman.

I am not graceful. In high heels, I am heavy-footed and awkward. In a dress, I am lumpy and frumpy. At night, I am sweating in my sleep and waking up hungry from the workout. I would rather watch a baseball game than Gossip Girl and I would rather grab a burger and fries than drink wine and sample cheeses (which is not to say I have not ocassionally enjoyed the latter)... These are things about me that I take pride in sometimes but sometimes, loathe.

I wonder why I couldn't have been born one of those wonderfully, genetically skinny people? Why couldn't I LOVE to exercise and cook my own healthy meals? Why aren't I one of those people with great health and good fortune and shiny hair?

But anyway, to quote someone or another that was probably famous: "All I can do is the best I can." So I console myself with the belief that I am doing the best I can, the best I know how for right now. Which I guess isn't so bad but also, in a way, I dare to imagine I could be doing better and am missing out on how to reach that something better...

Eh. Now I'm just rambling.

I'm exhausted, though. Still. I do know that much. I am really looking forward to my long weekend. A little sleeping in, a BBQ, some Law & Order reruns... Heaven, I say.

Body Issues

It's really easy to look at a skinny person and think "bitch" but let's all remember that everyone has their issues, right?

Let's not get carried away, though. This does not mean AJ's gone soft, kids. Not even close. Fear not- the grinch is still in. I'm still gonna mock stupid girls in mini skirts and Uggs.

But anyway, a friend sent a comment about having a hard time finding jeans because she is awkwardly shaped. This particular friend is someone I think of as being in amazing shape. She is athletic and adorable and I am jealous of her bright blue eyes. And imagine that she has a hard time finding clothes.

But I guess we all do is my point. Is my realization.

My hairdresser, who is also a good friend, is teeny tiny. I mean, she is a size 2 or 0 and has a great pair of... (well, they're fake but still)... and gorgeous longm golden hair (and really bitchin' tats but I digress)... And she is constantly obsessed with her appearance. Her body, her makeup, her clothes- everything. And by the way, she's over 35 so I guess that stuff doesn't go away with age.

When you think about it- it can't be easy to be teeny tiny. I do have a couple friends that small who can never find clothes. Imagine being 30 and having to shop in the kids department just to get a t-shirt that fits. That's sort of horrible.

So I am endeavoring to be more open minded. Less catty, more sympathetic. Us fat girl and us skinny girls? We may have more in common than we thought.

I hope, I hope this makes someone think.

I hope I can practice what I preach!

I hope my stomach ache from the Jenny Craig meatloaf I just ate goes away soon. This is totally unpleasant.

Closet Stripper

Oh yeah - so I totally want this:

"Strip you way to fitness???" I'm in. This sounds WAY better than the gym. 

And I'm Feelin' Good

I have to tell you, I may be a stress case when it comes to work and school but I've spent the last few days exercising here and there and eating pretty well. It makes me feel good about myself.

Now if I could just keep my hands off the hersheys for the rest of the day...

Ill Fitting Attire

You know, I was so excited my formerly favorite pink dress shirt fit me once again that I didn't even hesitate to put it on this morning.

Paired with my black cropped pants, which also used to be rto tight and now fit, and my black sweater vest thing from Nordstrom, I thought I had a pretty cute outfit on. My black flats sealed the deal.

A few hours later, I could not be LESS comfortable in clothing as I am in this outfit.

Have you ever tried on a bra in the store? You put it on, you do the jump up and down test, you lift and tuck and make sure it fits. But days later, when you first wear it, halfway through the day, you know you made a bad purchase. This is sort of how I feel about my outfit today. Good attempt, good fit at the start, but now my right boob is popping out of the cup. (Metaphorically, of course. My right boob is just fine.)

So as a result, I am having a fat day. A day when I don't even want to get up from my desk, a day when I freak out to find anyone is walking behind me, a day when I am sure everyone is watching every item I put in my mouth.

Tomorrow, I may have to come to work in pajamas just to make it up to myself. Wouldn't that be something?

Real Progress

Today? Down 5 pounds more. It's really amazing. I don't feel it and I don't even think I look it, but people have started to notice, which is great.

Why are my pants not loser on me? Was I wearing them too tight to begin with? How embarassing.

On Friday night, I let go. And really, for those who don't know me in person, I don't let go too often. But me and my girlfriends put on our sluttiest clothes and went out to a club for some dancing, drinking, and all kinds of debauchery. Without getting into too much detail, it was awesome to be in this place where no one cared what I was wearing or doing or saying. I was so free to be myself in that space and it was incredibly gratifying. In my low-cute revealing ensemble, I was like this seuper-hero version of myself who could dance all night in heels, throw back a few drinks, and flirt with strange men that I would never otherwise chase. Nothing has ever felt so liberating before!

And so what do we learn from this children? How do we feel better about our bodies? We dress like sluts and drink a couple Vodka Tonics...

I'm kidding, of course. Sort of. I mean, kind of.

Don't try this at home.

Why can't I feel like that all the time? Well, maybe in 30 more pounds I will. Maybe in 100 more pounds I will. When my 10-year reunion rolls around (December 8th) and I can put on my stunning black suit that I love and miss so much, I know I'm going to feel reborn. I know it. And I know I can get the weight off in time to wear that. I'm so close!

I hope you're all having a happy and health-filled day.

Just a Moment

Despite my insane eating in the last few days - and I mean GROSS overeating most likely due to depression and/or stress - I just had a lovely moment in the office restroom.

Now don't go getting any funny ideas, perverts.

I was washing my hands and looking up in the mirror and for the first time, really, I could notice I looked a little thinner. I mean, not THIN, but definitely a few pounds lighter, which is nice. It could very well be the outift, but let's suppose for my sake that I just look a little more in shape.

That felt nice. And rewarding. If only for a fleeting moment.

Sin City

I was fine during most of my trip to Las Vegas. I was far more concerned this weekend with how I felt as opposed to what I ate. I'd already conceded to myself that I was going to have a free-eat weekend. Vacation is vacation, after all.

I had a breaking point on Friday night. We were getting dressed to go out and I looked like hell. The way I felt, I could have been in a gown- it may as well have been burlap potato sacks.

I must have changed my outfit 7 or 8 times. I was sweating, I was crying in the hotel room, I was totally having a panic attack. Just because I couldn't find something to wear. Which seems ridiculous to me now. It's not usually a problem. Oh sure, I'm not skinny and my clothes aren't Armani, but I know what works with my body. I'm good with that. I dress to flatter what I've got to deal with.

Anyway, it was completely irritating. But I ended up in jeans and my favorite top. Comfort clothes. And it was okay. But I felt foolish. It was a shame I couldn't shake all night.

On Sunday, when we were waiting in the valet area to leave, I spied a woman, not too far away, who was just beyond morbidly obese. I was fascinated by her. I wondered where her clothes came from. And I noticed how fat and swollen her feet and ankles looked in her Crocs. I thought about how horrible the heat must be for her. If I could barely take it, she must be dying. And I felt overwhelmingly sad for her. I empathized with her. She was quite large, much more so than I, but I suddenly didn't feel too unlike I imagined she did. And she was smiling, hugging people good-bye before she got in the car, and I saw her get into the backseat of a Camry. I marveled over how she just got into the car and couldn't believe she fit.

That could have been me. I mean, it pretty much was or is. And all those obstacles - cars and plane seating and movie theaters... It's no less painful or embarassing for either of us.

It's an excrutiating thing to think on.