Originally appeared on Role/Reboot. Republished here with permission.
I threw away all my underwear today. Scratch that. Today, I threw away all of my underwear that would be classified as “lacy little things,” “thongs,” or, in Victoria’s Secret parlance, “cheekies.” Scratchy, itchy, barely-there? It had to go.
I have never lived alone, but in two weeks I will be moving into my first solo apartment. I will be sans-roommate, single girl-ing all up in this city; I am woman, hear me roar! Among the many horrid chores of moving, there is one beacon of joy: the Great Purge. I am a packrat by nature — note every 5K bib I’ve preserved, the melted plastic cup twisted by a deck fire, the tile from the floor of a hostel in San Juan — but moving is the kick in the butt I need to separate what I hoard sentimentally (all of the above) and what I hoard lazily.
The underwear is lazy. No pair has been purchased in the last four years. No pair has been worn more than five times. No pair brings a smile to my face or a steamy memory to the forefront of my mind. The truth, quite simply, is that I hate them all. About a hundred bucks and eight ounces of lace and elastic are now buried by garbage and I feel fantastic. Keep reading »
I think we can all agree that the society’s issues with weight and body image have reached rock, rock, rock bottom when women are purposefully ingesting tapeworms to shed pounds. An Iowa woman had to seek medical attention last week after purchasing a LIVE tapeworm off the internet and swallowing it. She was advised to get on anti-worm medication as soon as possible to avoid illness or possible death. The woman’s lapse in judgment prompted the Iowa Department of Public Health to issue a statement warning against using tapeworms as weight-loss aids. Keep reading »
One of my clearest memories is of sitting in a diner with my mom and a family friend when I was a kid. I’d just ordered a chocolate milkshake (a treat since my mother only kept fruit pops in the house) when the friend pointed to a fat woman sitting at the counter nearby. In my memory, the woman’s bottom was so large the stool looked too small for her, and her bright, pink top showed off every roll.
“Be careful,” the family friend said, gesturing toward the woman.
In hindsight, I’m horrified at this memory. The woman, who was already brave enough to wear an eye-catching top, had to have heard our friend implying that her body was disgusting. But for my grade-school self, this just inspired feelings of shame and defiance. I wanted to enjoy my treat in peace for once, rather than be reminded yet again how I already had trouble finding clothes that fit. Keep reading »
Although Abercrombie & Fitch has been hit hard with criticism for not carrying larger sizes in stores, they’re far from the only company ignoring the plus-size customer base. We already knew anything over size 10 is considered “plus size” at Forever 21. Now, according to Huffington Post, Lululemon Athletica, a Canadian clothing company that focuses on yoga and running attire, also is biased against customers who require larger sizes.
As company that sells athletic gear, Lululemon wants to portray an image of health and wellness. How healthy a person is, however, is not to be confused with how skinny a person is. This is where Lululemon goes wrong.
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When it comes to judging — or rather, assessing — the appearance, weight, and other such physical attributes of People That Are Not Me, I am forgiving to the point that someone close to me refers to me (endearingly? maybe? I hope?) as “Shallow Hal” (post-hypnotherapeutic incantation, obviously). It’s not that I can’t see it, I just don’t care; what you look like means absolutely nothing to me. I tend to see a person with a personality, rather than a body with a face. And yet, when it comes to myself, I am cruel as can be. I say things to and about myself so callous and demeaning, I literally would not say them to my worst enemy. Look, I don’t even have a worst enemy, but in the event that I did, I would not be even half as mean to them as I am to myself. Body Dysmorphic Disorder: I got it on lock. Comedian Annie Lederman (who, by the way, looks really familiar, and I’m not sure if it’s because I ran into her at a party or something or because she bears a striking resemblance to Emily VanCamp, nor will I ever know, but we do have one mutual friend on Facebook) did an uncanny job of capturing the dichotomy between what you see when you look at me, which is an average, acceptably attractive human female, and what I see when I look in the mirror, which is Danny Devito. ACCURATE. [Annie Lederman via Huffington Post]
This weekend, 27-year-old Nick Gilronan won the title of “Smallest Penis In Brooklyn” and the $200 prize that came along with it. But don’t be feeling bad for this single UPS store Assistant Manager (who models and acts on the side and technically lives in Queens) for being a “grower, not shower” — not only is he not embarrassed of his manhood, he’s proud as hell of his junk. He’s using his pageant win to speak out about the important of having a good body image. Here’s what he had to say on the matter in an interview with Gothamist:
“The size of a man’s penis does not matter for who he is as a person or in a relationship. Same thing with breast size. We’re all made in different shapes and sizes, but the media puts pressure on people to look a certain way. Most people do not look that way. Some people let that false sense of body image upset them and they shouldn’t be upset at all. Even worse, some people use those false standards and judge other people. It’s disconcerting… My advice for [less endowed men] is don’t worry about things you cannot control. All that does is waste time. Always move forward and do the best you can.”
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