thoughts on weight

Or “why Cat was hopping mad over Madrid”:

As bizarre as it sounds, it’s easier for me to identify with those stick-thin women than the average American woman, mostly because I’ve never weighed much over 100 lbs and will never have the kind of curves most do. At least in the modeling world, it’s okay not to have boobs or hips. If I were only six inches taller and still had these proportions, I’d actually be accepted in the fashion world. Nowhere else am I exactly a beauty.

Other women are naturally very lank and have trouble gaining weight. Hell, I’m having trouble, and I’m eating to make up for lost time. Know what the scale said this morning? 88.2. Maybe it’s stress, but isn’t stress supposed to result in weight gain? However many pounds I took off, the fact is that despite my efforts, I’m still within five pounds of my lowest weight.

Here’s what I dislike about being thin:

Ugly lingerie — no Victoria’s Secret pretties here
Kids’ lingerie — yep, my best-fitting bra comes from the 8-16 section at JC Penney
Falling out of jeans
Falling out of tops
Constantly being told to eat
Dealing with hateful comments aimed my way because I actually find thin beautiful as well as curvy
Waking up in pain because I haven’t enough “padding”
NOT BEING ABLE TO FIND CLOTHES. Have I stressed this quite enough? No? Well, I can’t. They make special pretties for big and beautiful women at affordable prices. They make special pretties for skinny girls too, but this is called “couture” and starts… out of my range. To say the least.

Here’s what I like about it:

Not having to deal with ridiculous boobage
Being androgynous
Never having to diet
Never being pressured to diet
Corsetry is that much easier
Being able to get away with no bra or just a sports bra
Being able to curl up and sleep anywhere

So if this were the Victorian era and I were an actress, yeah, I’d benefit. But the rest? Fuck, you have it easy.

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