Skip to main content

Curvy is Beautiful...?

I'm currently sitting in Starbucks at London St Pancras station, waiting for my train back to uni (and an empty kitchen! joy!!) I've been here at the station for about two hours... and still another hour to go before my train actually departs. I decided it would be better to leave home before dinner just so I could avoid another fiasco (seriously staying at home these last two weeks has been living hell! Closets full of food, taking out rubbish bags every other day in secret. Not to mention constantly being surrounded by tons and tons of food screaming out "Binge On Me!"

To amuse myself I bought a copy of the American Edition of Vogue here at the station's WHSmith. Beyonce on the cover: "Real women have curves". Looking at these pictures even now, the first thing that strikes me is, bloody hell, she has massive thighs and arse. Like...really...I'd hate to have her figure...and yet...everyone always goes on about how great it is. I have this issue with Marylin Monroe as well...I mean...she was a big girl. Do I need a slap round the face for saying these things about Monroe and Beyonce????
Argh, I dunno, maybe curves look good if you're famous enough...but for me, yuck yuck yuck, curves are something that I just find hideous on my own body.
Also, I can't help but notice that most of the models in American Vogue are definitely shapelier than those in my usual UK Vogue - is this just me? I scrutinise figures carefully and I'm sure these waists are at least a couple of inches bigger - stumbling across a picture of Victoria Beckham in the middle of the magazine and suddenly she looks deadly thin in comparison rather than looking normal size next to the models in UK magazines. ?!?!?
Maybe I've had too much coffee and my head is shakey.
But still in this same edition there is an article praising "voluptuous" Adele - ummm what.
And another article about Monica Seles overcoming her obsessions with weight...

Ok...I'm not imagining this...I need a magazine with tiny waif like waists before my head gets completely screwed up!

Why do I hate myself so much for looking like a Monroe or Beyonce?
Maybe curvy is beautiful...but to me, curvy is natural, uncontrolled, normal.
I want to be out-of-this-world, controlled and exceptional.

I suppose this whole episode has made me realise that this desire for perfection and thinness is about more than just food and mirrors... it's about me. It's about becoming something more by proving that I can become something less. Mentally, this is important to me. It's a challenge that I judge my life success by.
Some people challenge success by money, power, love. For me I judge success by control and weight...

Comments

  1. wow I totally agree with you. I do not want to look like those two at all! Like you said it is ok when you have millions of dollars to be fat. In the real world looking like that is fat i'm sorry. I want to be super thin- like crazy thin. So you are not the only one that feels that way trust me!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I completely agree! The term curvy to me means fat - but too polite to say it. Maybe I'd have the confidence to live with being fat if I had a pretty face, but still. When people see prettish fat people they go "Hasn't she got a pretty face?" rather than "Isn't she pretty?". I know which one I'd prefer to be said about me. If you're a fat celeb you can claim to be acting out against the size zero trend or say you want to be a role model. But at the end of the day I would love to look like Mary Kate and I would hate to look like Beth Ditto. All my thoughts may seem harsh - but in this world it's the reality. Thanks for your post. Glad you're finally getting back to your empty fridge and sorry Easter was tough for you hun. Think thin. Love. xo

    ReplyDelete
  3. I totally agree w/ you on the Beyonce thing. Also I notice that in today's society and I'm not trying to be rude in saying this but there is a little more leeway in the curve dept. for different ethnic backgrounds eg. Jennifer Lopez (Latina), Beyonce (African American), America Ferrera (Latina), Kim Kardashian (Greek) etc....white girls aren't really allowed to be curvy w/out be ridiculed eg. Jessica Simpson who recently put on some weight again and yet wouldn't be considered bigger than Beyonce I don't think.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You are falling into the trap that you have to be a size 0 - 2 or you aren't worth anything that the fashion industry has promoted for years. America, Beyonce, Jessica etc. are more proportioned for real women and not the stereotype of the "perfect" woman which is not realistic. See some of the models that have grown past the modeling stage and their weight is now more normal than when modeling. That is one of the reasons lots of models are 13 & 14 because they haven't finished growing yet.

    Real women that real men want have curves and are healthy first not anorexic, starved and being someone that they aren't. Don't fall for the fashion magazine stupidity.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I agree. This "curves" thing is bullshit.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Don't be anonymous, leave a name at least so I can identify you back :)

Popular posts from this blog

With all my everlasting love, Goodbye...

Well, I got the job. I spent the last three weeks living and breathing the company and the role, preparing myself completely for the onslaught of interviews. Every spare moment pouring over economics textbooks, business journals and newspapers, paperbacks and online resources. I did everything I could to get that job. I sat on the train on my journey home with my eyes closed and sent my thoughts up to the sky please let me get it, please, please I start in 4 weeks, straight after I finish at the school. Right back in the centre of the City of London. where I belong . where I can thrive, work hard and play hard back to my best whatever that best is I got the call to say I'd been offered the job in the middle of my therapy session. I was overjoyed. My therapist congratulated me. We talked about the incredible progress I had made. We talked about the end... We decided that my last session will be the week before I start my new job. The sun was shining outside, I felt invin

The Hardest Post...

. This is the hardest post I have ever had to write. I apologise if it's sporadic and raw. This is everything from the last two months. When I went away with Alex for a weekend on the 16th July and when we went away for the second time on the 13th August. How things became incredible. How things fell apart. The writing in red is what I have written today - my input now - the writing in black is what I wrote on the date stated. Written on 19th July 2010 The dream is not a dream. It exists. I tasted it. I lived it. The happiness of my childhood is not dead. It lives around me – in other children, in other families. I walked hand-in-hand with Alex through the gardens of Chatsworth House, listening to the laughter of children, watching old couples sitting on the wall eating huge cones of soft white ice cream. Seeing families all around me. Joy, happiness, laughter, innocence, contentment, fulfilment. I was right all along. I knew it. I knew it! I had known all along what

Winning

A narrative of the last few days… So Friday was the big day. I went back to my university town for the Annual Dinner Night of my old society. All present members and all alumni – all my best friends, all my old lovers, and the place that made and broke my reputation. Thursday: all I ate all day were two sweets. And I only ate them because M offered them to me on two separate occasions in the library. (M – the law school guy I can’t stop myself from being besotted with.) I was convinced that I looked terrible that day so I hid in the library at law school during our break. I hadn’t seen M all week, but that day, I left my desk for two minutes and returned to find he had sat himself two seats away. I was mortified and pretended not to see him… although from that point on I found it impossible to concentrate on my books… He spoke to me first, and obviously when he offered me a sweet I couldn’t say no for fear of looking weird / seeming rude. Anyway, straight after my day at college was ov