Big girls don't cry. C'mon, don't cry, I said
Some singer (or something) named Jessica Simpson is reported to have joined the blimpo brigade much to the consternation of those who have much too little to be actually concerned about. OK, I know who Jessica Simpson is, sort of, a singer of some kind, I believe. I just feigned ignorance of her presence on the planet to emphasize the point as to how little I care if she balloons up to 400 pounds and then explodes.
Anyway, piling on a bit of pork hasn’t hurt our Jessica too much. She is getting more supermarket tab cover space and ink than her previous (lack of) talents afforded her. No such thing as bad publicity, goes the adage.
What worries me about this societal obsession with excess avoirdupois – obesity is the new smoking – is that it suggests any sort of heft is by its very nature unappealing and no female should ever be more than wisp-like in bearing. In other words, what the tabs are telling Jessica and every adolescent miss is that plumpness equates with being a dog.
The odd thing about this is that males don’t really care all that much about a surfeit of female poundage that has gone beyond some mystically prescribed ideal weight. Where did that come from? Seriously. Give yourself one of those much-hyped BMI tests and I almost guarantee the result will show that you are too chubby.
Showing how fashions change, Marilyn Monroe by current BMI standards would be deemed obese.
Personally, I rather likes me a ‘well-built’ woman. But, I guess I am a product of my times. Me and Rubens.
Of course, there are health issues with extravagant adiposity, and they are not to be scoffed at. There is the huge increase in Type II diabetes for example. But, in my esteem that is more a by-product of the crud we eat rather than weight per se. Throw back items swimming in transfats and you are bound to pay the price. I cringe when I watch the TV commercial about the dutiful Mom who is feeding her kids goddamn Pop-tarts for brekkie before sending them off to school.
But, speaking of brekkie, I think that is one issue that might be addressed. I love breakfast and truly do feel it’s the most important meal of the day. I especially love those wonderful English breakfasts: Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, fried bread, sometimes kidneys and kippers and even baked beans on the side. It’s a great deal if it’s included with your room rate. That way a body can skip lunch if traveling on a budget.
At the same time, I’m really only good for a couple of those per trip or I end up feeling bloated.
American breakfasts I find at times to be incomprehensibly large: Eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, etc. served in absolutely massive portions. Again, once or twice per trip. After that it’s a bowl of instant oatmeal back in our motel room to start out our subsequent days of travel.
Actually, oatmeal is God’s gift to sensible eating. It’s very good for you, zaps cholesterol, fills a body nicely and tastes great.
Try oatmeal, Jessica, it might serve you better if you’re worried about your zaftigness. Though, I don’t think you need to be.
Labels: Chubby chic is always in