Jumbled Words

I wrote this one in Swedish yesterday. I hope it will work translated, as it was a reply to another brilliant blog post that only exists in Swedish. It was about the “oh but you‘re not fat” comment inbetweenies (to thin for plus size, too fat for straight sizes) tend to get. This is what I had to say about it.

So, let’s talk about the word “fat”. It’s very much a relative term, because most people (especially women) seem to think they weigh too much, regardless of size. This starts much earlier than you think. For example I found this article on girls in the 3-6 age bracket, and how the perfection of for example Disney princess affect their body image. Now, I have to say that I’m a bit dubious on how the questions were posed, because it seems like kids that age are kind of susceptible to leading questions, but it’s an interesting read nonetheless.

But let’s leave the science speak for a bit, shall we?

A part of the relative-ness (it’s so a word!) of this word seems to have a lot to do with the fact that most people have an extremely hard time judging size and weight of people around them. A perfect example on this is this experiment blogger Marianne Kirby did a few years ago, asking people to guess her height and weight from a photo that she posted to her blog. The result is really interesting, because the guesses range from 170 pounds (77 kilos) to 340 pounds (155 kilos). That is a 75 kilo difference, people!

For the record, she weighted 314 pounds at the time, and is 5′3 tall, so a lot of people guessed that weighed a lot less than she really did, and most of the ones that came close thought that she was 5′8 or taller.

She also talked about how people seemed to think that guessing a too high number would somehow insult her, and that some (especially blokes) came out and said “well, I know somebody your size and SHE says she weighs 200 pounds…”, which is to say that there is a lot of vanity involved here. If everyone shaves twenty or forty pounds off their weight when they mention it to anyone we will all walk around and feel bad about being so much heavier than the rest of the world. So, really, stop lying. I’ll start.

I’m 5′8 (173 cm) tall. I weigh 90 kilos. My BMI is 31. 25 is the upper limit for overweight, 30 is when you fall into obese land, and above 35 you get the lovely label “morbidly obese” affixed to yourself.

So, you know, I am fat. And the fact that people that buy me clothes (mostly my mum and grandmother) consequently gives me things two or three sizes too small is just enervating. It’s as if they think I would be offended if they brought me something bigger than a 44 (that’s a UK 16 or a US 14, btw) or something. I’m not. Seriously. I’m mostly annoyed that I have to go and exchange it for something I can actually wear.

(And for the record, when I was a European 42 they brought me 36 or 38. This is a bad circle, neverending.)

And sure, you probably shouldn’t walk around and expect people to just magically know your dress size, but after a while it gets tireding to hear that you’re not fat. Most people who say this do it about people they like and care about, in some backwards attempt to make them feel good. But know this – as long as you say something like “oh my God, look at her over there, what is she wearing?” about some girl that is wearing a short skirt or tight jeans or show too much cleavage, and she in fact is bigger than your fat friend? It hurts. The “oh, I don’t mean you” thing really doesn’t work in this situation. And yes, I do hope that I am old enough to have grown out of doing this myself, and having friends who do it, but… thought I’d toss it out there anyway.

I do get the reasoning when it comes to assuring people they aren’t fat, and maybe to a certain degree the urge to divide people into skinny and fat, and putting the ones you care about in the former category, just because. It’s just that when you start comparing fat levels there’s always somebody who is going to clock in somewhere in the middle, and she will be told that she’s too skinny to be fat, and too fat to be skinny. Simultaneously.

(I think you all remember my rant from when Fatshionista on LJ changed their policy.)

When I first found fat acceptance I was really surprised, actually, because suddenly I wasn’t enormous. I was… kind of small. That was quite a revelation. And sure, it’s easier to be just a little fat than really fat, in the eyes of people around you. I never have to worry about airplane seats, I can eat in front of others, and so on, but that doesn’t mean I don’t stand in the (usually very small) plus size section, desperately trying to find something that isn’t either too small or too big.

If you’re interested in clothes and fashion and all that it’s possible to find stuff that works in straight sizes by looking at materials and such (read more about that at Young, Fat and Fabulous), but it takes time and effort and seriously? I don’t care all that much. I used to live in jeans and T-shirts and Converse and not care one way or another, but these days all jeans fall off me (because my hips are two sizes larger than my waist) and even my beloved Chucks are too narrow to fit me comfortably. And then what do you do? Well, yes. Then you go to the plus size section, looking to grab something quickly, realising that there’s about three shelves of clothes and that most of them are either too small or too big.

So, yeah. Being an “inbetweenie” is easier than being honest to God fat, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy. I may LOOK if not thin, so at least “normal”, and maybe I am. Most of the time.

At least until I stand there in the clothing store and nothing fit.

Until I go to the gym and everyone is smaller than me (and I may say that I don’t care, but I do, I really, really do).

Until people start giving me their old clothes because they’ve “lost twenty kilos, but they probably fit you”.

Until you constantly feel too fat or too thin, depending on the situation. So, yes. I’m fat. And when you say that I’m not it’s not a compliment. It’s just a reminder that I don’t belong on either side of the fence, and honestly, I have far too many fences to sit on already.

PS. This post became rather different than the original. And for Kate Harding excellence on this topic, read Does my butt look fat? at Salon.com. Last but not least, the two first images are from Now Foundation’s Love Your Body project and the last by amazing artist Richard Wilkinson. Check out his work, it’s seriously beautiful.