Fat Fatuities.
If you are of a sensitive, politically correct disposition, best you run away now and play Solitaire or something, this post is not for you. You’ll only get upset.
I want to talk about the deep prejudices, certainly I harbour, and I wonder how many others too, not the ideological claptrap we have been trained to spout.
I can spin the ‘beauty is only skin deep’ line with the best of them – I sound mighty convincing too; I could even quote you facts and illustrations to prove that I am not racially prejudiced, an essential attribute in this modern world. Best of all, I actually believe it.
Or do I? I found myself examining my prejudices as I lay in bed with an early morning cup of tea, watching Mr G get dressed. I have woken to the sound of a cup of tea landing on my bedside table every morning now for 25 years. Better than any alarm clock.
Mr G is looking extraordinarily good lately, I have to say. Clearing a kilometre of river bank of spindle and brushwood that hadn’t been touched for 20 years, followed by shifting and sorting around 30 ton of cut granite in preparation for the stone mason who is about to start work on the new entrance, have honed his physique to something that hasn’t been seen for nigh on 20 years. He has lost a stone since the 1st of January – I really should ignore you lot and feed him more often.
Not that he was ever what you might term fat, not by British standards anyway, more of a prop forward build; at 6’ 3” he could afford the 16 stone he carried – however at 15 stone he is looking definitely phwoar! I must keep a closer eye on you, I thought, some young filly might run off with you…..
Then I thought – why should it matter? Isn’t beauty only skin deep? Am I really so shallow that the first time I ever give consideration to the idea of someone carting Mr G off is when he looks better than ever?
I know that we females are programmed to search for a mate who is strong and healthy, fleet of foot, a hunter who will provide for us, protect us, an’ all that stuff, and that a barrel gut that equals your height is probably not the best indicator of coming within that category, but really, as a menopawsal Raccoon, shouldn’t that programmed voice have ceased to make its siren call?
I started to list in my head the negative qualities I award to fat. Self-indulgent, selfish even. No self-control. No willpower. Scarcely admirable qualities in a lover, I thought.
Nah, you’re being daft said my new found ideological voice. We love our partners for what they are, for better for worse, what’s a little middle aged spread? Or a lot of middle aged spread. Or any other impediment that we acquire with age – would I love thee any less [fill in impediment of choice]? No, came the answer, I wouldn’t.
The answer I came to is that there is nothing wrong with being fat per se, we all make – and demand – exceptions for our fallibilities, and fat is no different to any other fallibility; a skin deep imperfection, one that could be genetic, could be hormonal, could be any number of different factors outside of our control.
Same with height. Nowt you can do if you are five foot two, ‘cept grin and bear it.
There it was again, my cavewoman voice. No matter how hard I tried to shut it up.
‘How about marrying an Indian in a turban’ it said. ‘No thanks’, said I. ‘Why not’.
Ah, ‘why not’ – I have no idea. I’m positive I have no axe to grind with Indians, very fond of some of them, spent some years travelling in India, jolly nice people.
‘So why not marry an Indian’?
‘Because, well, because, because I’d just rather marry a tall slim Englishman with blue eyes, who can run fast and skin a rabbit and make sure the children eat first’ said my genetic voice.
Which seems ridiculous – we live in an age of social security; the children will get to eat no matter how self-indulgent he is. We don’t need a man to be fleet of foot and fight lions with his bare hands; if he can walk under a limbo dancer’s pole – so what? Rabbits come ready skinned in the supermarket; we can drive our own car there and pay for it at the till. We need men like a hole in the head, goes the saying.
So why are we still programmed to admire the tall, slim, fleet of foot ones? What happened to evolution? Why do men still ogle porn with its slim hipped beauties with impossibly long legs whilst assuring the missus that her ‘bum doesn’t look big in that’?
What is this game we are playing with ourselves that fat is irrelevant in our assessment of a person and their desirable qualities, and why? Why does the football crowd shout ‘who ate all the pies’? Not, ‘you fat little pig’, but ‘who ate all the pies’. Why are we so keen to, on the surface, divorce the notion of fat from unrestrained greed, from taking more than your fair share, from preventing others from enjoying what is rightfully their share?
Perhaps I am the sole remaining unreconstructed person who thinks like that? Mea Culpa.
In which case, why is half the country on a diet and trying to get rid of the fat? Don’t’ tell me it’s the health risk – we don’t take a blind bit of notice of other health risks; there isn’t a massive private sector engaged in flogging ‘stop drinking’ cures.
March 5, 2011 at 18:07
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I think there are two forces operating here: the “caveman/cavewoman”
hardwiring and aesthetics. The caveman is attracted to large women because
wide hips = good childbearing ability and fat = reserves for times of
scarcity, but aesthetically, saggy flesh is ugly.
- March 5, 2011 at 09:43
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I’m glad someone raised this. I know I am a closet racist, much as I try
not to be, and I too lie in bed at night and worry about it, although my
prejudice is confined to a Race in general, and not to individuals, unless I
seriously don’t like them for some other reason But I also know that I never
used to be. Work that one out if you can.
However, “Fat”, has always bothered me. If I know the person, I worry about
their health, and if I don’t know them then they offend my eye.
I too could
be fat if I didn’t pay some attention to what I eat. But that would just
offend me personally.
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March 4, 2011 at 22:20
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Hrrmph. I’m not sure what I think about this post. The only “Cor” I get now
is closely followed by ‘pulent’, which just about sums me up.
Also, I’d like to know how Mme Raccoon managed to post the above image of
my grandmother Gloria Stitz (after whom I am named) and her sisters Norma and
Stupenda to illustrate this article; this painting was commissioned by their
father, Herman-Gus Stitz, and was meant to remain forever in the private Stitz
Collection. I am thankful that she chose not to illustrate the article with
the portrait of my other aunt, Pendula.
All in all, I am rattled and quite sure that I don’t like the ‘fattist’
tone of this thread at all. I think I’ll go away now and fling myself into the
sturdy arms of short-sighted Old Smuddy who will always give me a loving
welcome irrespective of my fat-rolls, my thick fur or my bad breath … until,
of course, he realises I’m not Hector (the dog).
Twin beds and myopia are wonderful things.
Hrrmph.
- March 4, 2011 at 21:29
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When she says, “Does my bum look big in this?” try this for an
answer…
“Ooh yeah – and what’s not like about that!”
- March 4, 2011 at 18:06
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“Same with height. Nowt you can do if you are five foot two, ‘cept grin and
bear it.”
Unless you try these, à la Sarkozy.
- March 4,
2011 at 17:22
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@Woodsy42 – indeed. As I have got older, I have poured cold water on many
amorous imaginings (metaphorically, of course) by asking myself “yes, lots of
fun, but what would we talk about afterwards?” It never fails to bring me down
to earth.
- March 4, 2011 at 16:38
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The fat thing: “I am asking why we attribute so many negative qualities to
fat, when it shouldn’t make any difference”… I have a large friend who has
just started a diet and lost three stone. He looks much better for it. The
support group he goes to as part of his regime regularly addresses the issues
of why its members are overweight – answer, obviously, they eat so much. But
why?
My friend says all in the group have come to see they have unhealthy issues
with food and that over-eating is a symptom of an underlying problem, not its
cause, and now he is looking at that and feeling happier as well as
thinner.
Maybe we just unconsciously recognise that there are things going on for a
“fat” person that we do not really want to get involved with? (Just a theory –
could be as rubbish as any theory.)
- March 4, 2011 at 17:53
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Yes, I have seen girls get fat if their fathers reject them, or if they
can’t cope with attention, or have been sexually assaulted when they were
thin, so it is easy to imagine there are issues behind the size whether
there are or not.
The things that piss us off in others are often based in unreconciled
self doubt eg. I would hate to be fat and it would fill me with self
loathing therefore I am disturbed by fat people.
- March 4, 2011 at 17:54
- March 4, 2011 at
16:23
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THE bard had it right!
Caesar:
Antonio!
Marcus Antonius:
Caesar?
Caesar:
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men and
such as sleep a-nights.
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look,
He
thinks too much; such men are dangerous.
Julius Caesar Act 1, scene 2,
190–195
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March 4, 2011 at 16:19
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Speaking of which, RIP Jane Russell. And no number of Angelina Jolies could
ever equal a Lauren Bacall. Or a Katherine Hepburn. Or a Marilyn Monroe.
Excuse me while I go and howl at the moon…
- March 4, 2011 at 16:18
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A question, Anna. Which of the following is more likely to get the hormones
tramping; a rugby forward (usually built like a barn door) or a fell runner
(usually built like a whippet). Both sporty, both fit and healthy, but
opposite ends of the BMI scale.
(I was amused to read a couple of years ago that, according to the Body
Mass Index thingy often quoted by the NHS and other health fascists, the
entire England rugby union squad are clinically obese. Wonder if anybody’s
dared tell ‘em….)
- March 4, 2011 at 16:03
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I think it’s all a non issue. Personality is what matters.
Does my bum
look big in this habit?
- March 4, 2011 at 16:05
- March 4, 2011 at 15:45
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I fnd the large ladies in the picture at the top really quite attractive.
That’s not to say I don’t occasionally wonder what I could get up to with a
ballerina or gymnast…
- March 4, 2011 at 15:23
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From my experience, power is a great aphrodisiac.
- March 4,
2011 at 14:43
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I think you may be mixing up sex, or sexual attraction, with a loving
relationship.
Personally, as a male, (neither tall, slim or fleet of foot)
I am absolutely delighted to watch provocative and shapely young ladies, and
am not immune to the thought that they might be rather fun in certain
situations. But that doesn’t mean I would want to live with any of them or
even have a serious friendship with them. That requires a meeting of
personalities, and personal empathy. You can’t spot those from the outside,
and have no idea what package shape they might come in.
- March 4, 2011 at 15:37
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No, I am asking why we attribute so many negative qualities to fat, when
it shouldn’t make any difference in these ‘Halcyon days’…….
- March
4, 2011 at 16:48
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As SBML points out, that’s quite a modern outlook. It isn’t
entirely true either – fat people are still regarded as jolly
(think Oliver Hardy, Billy Bunter, hell, even Santa Claus).
- March
4, 2011 at 18:24
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Because not just obesity but even plumpness (note the politeness) is
being denormalised by the health nanny quangos. It was previously seen as
a mark of good health and wealth.
- March 4, 2011 at 14:06
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Because Anna, we have needs which are hard wired in at the biological
level, that can’t be restructured in a mere hundred years. The ‘caveman /
woman’ will be with us, in the biological sense, for at least the next few
millennia. Evolution doesn’t move that fast.
- March 4, 2011 at 14:05
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Seems to me some tastes are in built. As it happens, I like curves,
provided they are all in the right places. I know some men who worship stick
insects. nature or nurture. Maybe both!
- March
4, 2011 at 14:03
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Society makes a huge impression on us when we are young. It’s amazing how
little things can affect children’s preceptions even though you don’t think it
worth mentioning.
As an example of how society affects perceptions. In the past being fat was
extremely attractive – because it meant you were rich and could eat lots. Now
it’s the opposite. Being thin means you eat healthily, don’t eat junk food,
and can afford to spend time exercising. Being fat is seen as unhealthy and
you don’t exercise but sit in front of the TV or at a desk all day. In both
cases the view about why you might be fat or thin doesn’t actually mean that
it is true. There were poor fat people in the past, and there are poor thin
people now. It’s just what society has deemed as the “right form”.
As to whether you like black, white, or orange colour skin. That’s probably
mostly to do with your environment. I’m from the middle east so find middle
easterners attractive as well as westerners because of my particular
environment when young, but I don’t find asians or africans attractive. I say
mostly to do with environment, there are always exceptions.
You shouldn’t be labeled racist just because you don’t find a different
race attractive. Racism is seeing someone from another culture as beneath your
own culture. Seeing the other culture as different and unattractive is not
racism however much progressives think it should be.
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March 4, 2011 at 13:49
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“slim hipped beauties”
As far as I know, males have consistently admired good hips on a girl
despite what the fashion industry tells us, an industry so anti-female-shape
that we now have a man modelling supposedly women’s fashions. It’s called the
waist-to-hip ratio and the preferred ratio is 0.7, which is seen in a lot of
art. It’s practically an open secret, with songs like “Baby Got Back”, lines
in films like “I like a girl with an arse you can park your bike in and rest
your pint on” which you’ll see at the end of Bridget Jones, although Mark
Darcy’s mother is appalled.
Big hips are an indicator of high oestrogen and high fertility in women;
unfortunately big hips are conflated with a fat arse in the UK at least,
although I assure you, the heterosexual male brain is very good at spotting
the difference instantly.
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March 4, 2011 at 16:12
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Damn right. I like a woman to look like a woman – not some bizarre
sexless androgyne as promoted by the fashion industry. Say yes to fine bums!
Say yes to fine boobs! Say yes to swinging hips!
“The world moves on a woman’s hips”
David Byrne (Talking Heads, the world’s finest ever white funk band)
- March 4, 2011 at 13:19
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No one wants to think they have the runt of the litter, that is why.
- March 4, 2011 at 12:54
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I have seen a situation where a stunningly attractive girl at work had no
social life and was thoroughly miserable. After a lot of comfort eating she
had no problem with dating.
I know exactly why it happened that way, and
it’s nothing to do with peoples’ attractions to particular body shapes. I
suspect you know why it happened, but I can give you the answer if necessary
(there’s a clue in an episode of The Simpsons where Grandpa gets amorous).
- March 4, 2011 at 12:52
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I know I’m some kind of closet racist.
I’m happy to work and socialise with people of any race or colour.
However State employees always annoy me and UK passport control staff in
particular. I always mutter fascist pigs after I’ve doffed my cap and sought
permission to enter my own country.
For some reason I find it even more annoying when a non English person
claims authority over my right to come home.
- March 4, 2011 at 13:02
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