So I’m a bit of a fatty. It’s not a secret but it’s not something I’ll be writing much about. It’s pretty boring, really. I used to work with a bunch of women who talked about diets all day. SNORE. Nevertheless, being a feminist and being on the heftier side of life, I have a bit of a fatdar thing happening.
Here’s a couple of things that have set it off recently.
Reading Dawn French’s memoir ‘Dear Fatty’*, I enjoyed her assertions that she does in fact love her body very much, for what it can do, for what it is, for where it has taken her. Unlike the usual celebrity ‘oh I love how I am just the way I am’ statement, usually followed up by some kind of makeover/diet or promotion of such (Oprah I’m looking at you), I actually found French believable. Reading about the more awkward moments of her younger days, though, I wonder if being comfortable like this is more to do with the benefit of age and experience than anything. And besides; she’s funny. Everyone knows funny women are allowed to be fat.
Unfortunately though, even funny women see Jenny Craig as a meal-replacement ticket. And I don’t mean the unfunny Kirstie Alley. This time, it’s Magda Szubanski who’s signed up for a round of emotional ads to rival the schmaltzy Biggest Loser guff.
Now, if Magda really does feel the need to health-up then I wish her the best. It’s probably not an easy thing she’s chosen to do but I can understand it. I mean, if you’re going to be bitched about in the media you might as give them the fodder, on your terms. And I bet there’s nothing like knowing your fat arse is being talked about not only next door but all over the country to make you put that fifth Tim Tam back. So good on her.
There’s probably something wrong with the rest of us though, since we seem to lap up this ritual humiliation of the famously corpulent with such gusto. Methinks the Women’s Weekly special interview with the newly svelt Magda which is sure to appear in coming months will sell well. Not nearly as well as the issue with the pictures of her outside some burger chain scarfing down a thickshake when she alledgedly falls off the Jenny wagon. Would you like schadenfreude with that?
* incidentally, the ‘Fatty’ in Dawn French’s title isn’t her self, but Jennifer Saunders, to whom she addresses many chapters. Oh yes, it tricked me too. Shame on us.