So, you think you’re fat?
You hate your midriff right?
You think all anyone sees is those wobbly bits?
You’re depressed because you were a skinny kid and now you’re growing up and your belly’s growing too.
Being a woman who “was there” in the 60s and early 70s, it goes without saying that I can’t remember exactly what went on. I do know that around that time, my lover’s wife decreed that The Female Eunuch was required reading. I did my best and pretended to understand it but the main vision I have now, as I think back, is the iconic book cover depicting a hollow female form with handles attached. The liberation movement seemed important because other women told me so. I listened and I read and became quickly bored with the shrill rhetoric, ‘Stop all the talk and just get on with it’ I thought.
Did you know that when you put your ultrasound on Facebook at least 28% of your friends want to delete you?
Do you know that if any of them are radiologists they might be able to see his weiner or her hoo ha?
I leave the house with a flirty bounce in my step, full of confidence. I had dressed to suit my voluptuousness, had braved the shops where a ‘medium’ is now ‘large’ and women are sized out of existence. I had complied with the women’s magazines.
Phorid is an artist but she also writes letters to companies that make her cross and then sends them to us because we think they’re funny. In her latest edition she’s drawing attention to the age old problem of hairdressers having opinions. No offense hairdressers, I know you have opinions, but I’m with Phorid on this one – ‘trust me I’m a hairdresser’ isn’t something I want to hear. I’ve got eyes, I trust them.
Don’t tell the kids but the purpose of school is to prepare young minds for a life of regular employment. Despite ‘business leaders’ regularly lamenting falling standards, twenty five years of a National Curriculum means at least we can all add-up enough to complete our tax returns.