Marie Claire Says TV Show about "Fatties" is Socially Irresponsible

This Dr. Phil poster may be a joke but many people are serious about their cruel comments.

Marie Claire has done it again! After the article that rocked the food-blogging world (which was nasty, sneaky and unfair... and also made some very valid points that I am still thinking about) last month, the lady mag is back in fine foot-in-mouth form with a new article titled "Should Fatties Get a Room (Even on TV)?" that claims to explore whether programming starring happy fat people is "disturbing" and "implicitly promoting obesity." Their unsurprising fashion-mag answer: yes and yes. (Which I find hilariously ironic considering their main complaint about the food bloggers is that they promote unhealthy ideals with their obsessive food restriction and exercise. Apparently you can't win unless you spring forth from the womb perfectly formed.)

I don't watch TV. If you didn't know that explicitly you have probably guessed it from how culturally clueless I am. And yet I do remember one thing from hazy college TV-show obsessed days (Holla Felicity and America's Next Top Model!) and that is this: You don't mess with Sookie. Gilmore Girls was brilliant and not just because I couldn't decide who I wanted to be more - Alexis Bledel or her "mom" Lauren Graham as they were both so witty and adorable. All of the characters on the show were funny, relatable and entertaining. One of the standouts on the show Sookie, played by Melissa McCarthy, who was a chef, a spitfire of a best friend and a comedienne in her own right. Oh and did I mention she was a bit chubby?

Well the (un-Kirstie Alley) fat actress has a new show out called "Mike & Molly" about an overweight couple who meets at Overeaters Anonymous and falls in love. Typical schlocky sitcom hijinks ensue and the show would probably have barely shown up on the radar if it were not for Marie Claire blogger Maura Kelly's post on how a show featuring two obese people in love is disgusting. In her own words, "So anyway, yes, I think I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room - just like I'd find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine addict slumping in a chair."

Wow, did she really just say that out loud? Yep. And she continues with the tired I-have-a-fat/gay/black/grinder monkey for a friend trope, "Now, don't go getting the wrong impression: I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk. And I also know how tough it can be for truly heavy people to psych themselves up for the long process of slimming down. (For instance, the overweight maintenance guy at my gym has talked to me a little bit about how it seems worthless for him to even try working out, because he's been heavy for as long as he can remember.)"

Oh well if you know a fat janitor then it's totally okay! She goes on to tell obese people that if they just try hard enough they can lose the weight writing, "But ... I think obesity is something that most people have a ton of control over. It's something they can change, if only they put their minds to it." and then giving overly simplistic, albeit true tips like "eat more fresh and unprocessed foods" and "visit your local YMCA." Yes, it really is that bad.

But now that I've pointed out the egregious error - and it is as easy as falling of the curb to jump on Kelly, heck half the Internet is (the other half is too busy arguing over whether Christine O'Donnell is a moronic constitutional illiterate or a nuanced legal genius) - I feel inclined to point out that she's really not the problem. Many, many people feel this way. Remember Anna Wintour being horrified at the Mall of America not by the fact that Forever 21 sits right next to Prada but because she thinks all Midwesterners look like "little houses"? Most people just don't say it out loud. Kelly is the whipping girl because she wrote it in black and white (and doesn't have the entire fashion world at her back).

Jezebel points out that, to her credit, Kelly tries to atone in the comments by saying her remarks are lingering effects of her previous history of anorexia. "Though I don't think of myself as anorexic any more, being freaked out by obesity to the insensitive, even cruel, point that I was is certainly a vestige of the anorexic mindset; maybe so was being righteous about how easy it is to lose weight. (Because once I lost an extreme amount of weight, of course—about half my body weight—etc.)." I can personally attest to the mental havoc that eating disorders wreak. Not only do you have no concept of what you as a person look like, you really don't see other people accurately either. And the crazy doesn't go away just because you start eating again.

So I don't fault her for thinking these thoughts - she is just parroting the cultural zeitgeist of body-hate - but I think we should focus on the larger issue of challenging the validity of these thoughts. For me I don't care whether or not obese people are "gross" to watch kiss or more expensive to insure or are taking up two airplane seats or are riding zebras in Kenya whilst singing "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts." The point for me is that they are people before they are anything else. And all people, whether they be obese or elderly or handicapped or colicky infants or felons or rogue inflatable-slide-riding flight attendants, deserve to be treated with respect and kindness.

The Wrong Way to Encourage Someone to Get Fit

I made a mistake. At first I was going to write this post and pretend I got an e-mail from someone asking me this question but I quickly realized that would be a bad idea on two fronts: one, I'm a terrible liar and two, seeing as I'm the one with the problem, I can't very well be giving myself advice now can I?

Dear Readers,
You guys are awesome and smart and have the best ideas. I have good intentions that often go awry. Please help me!
Love,
Charlotte

Encouragement is powerful. To be perfectly honest, I'm a people pleaser and have been willing to do pretty much anything to get praise since the second I slid out of the womb. (Doctor: "Baby Girl Hilton, APGAR at one minute - 10" Me: *squeeee*) However, I first became acquainted with this fact in a gym setting about five years ago. My first foray into real adult fitness was right after the birth of my 3rd child and I was about as beginner as they come. I knew I liked yoga. I knew I didn't fit into my pants. And that was pretty much it.

Then Nasca took me under her wing. A yoga and kickboxing instructor, not to mention a veteran bodybuilder and fitness competitor, she had a personality part Earth Mama and part Warrior Woman. Contrary to how most bodybuilders operate, there was never any talk of fat or thin with Nasca. She simply thought everyone was gorgeous. Including me. But she did think I should be stronger. Not from a looks standpoint but rather a functional one. I remember going on a joint expedition to Costco - with Costco it's never just a shopping trip; even if you're just getting milk it feels like the modern equivalent of slaying a buffalo and tying it to the back of your pony - and watching her heft 50-pound pallets of flour.

"Come on, use those triceps!" she joked as I struggled to help her.

"What's a tricep?" I asked lamely. "I don't think I have one."

"Everyone has one," she giggled. "Two actually. It's this cool little cut on the back of your arm." She lifted her sleeve to show me a beautiful mark of muscular definition etched into her caramel skin. Then she lifted my sleeve. "See? Yours is right here."

"Where?" I could only see white mushiness.

"Hold your arm like this." She flexed. I imitated her. Still nothing. Concerned, she felt the back of my arm up and down as I tried flexing in several different directions. "Wow," she finally said. "You really don't have one!" And then with no judgement whatsoever she said, "We've got to start you lifting weights."

As anyone who has ever explained something they are very good at to someone who is very bad at it knows, educating newbies is not fun. But to watch Nasca teach me basic weight lifting skills you would have thought I was the most exciting thing to hit the gym floor since thong leotards. Nasca gave me a lot of good information over the next few months but the real thing that kept me coming back was her friendship. She was always encouraging, always positive and always cared about me. If I didn't show up to class one day, she missed me. It sounds like a small thing but it meant a lot to me.

Since then I've tried to be that person for others. I try to notice when there are new people in class or on the weight floor. I try to reach out to them - say hi, offer a friendly smile and a little encouragement. And most of the time I think it works. I've made some great friends that way and people usually at least smile back.

Here's where it all went wrong: During a class a while ago I noticed a girl in the very back. She was new and hugging the door like it was the last escape hatch on the Red October. Nothing came easy to her. The choreography threw her, the music jarred her and the workout winded her. I tried unsuccessfully to catch her eye in the mirror so I could smile at her. She was so obviously uncomfortable that I expected her to dart out the door after five minutes and never come back. But at the end of class she was still there. I made a beeline for her.

"Hey, are you new?" I panted, dripping sweat. "You did really great today! It's a tough class - that's awesome you stuck it out!"

In an instant her look changed from dazed and tired to bald Britney with an umbrella. "Look bitch, I don't need your pity. Fat girls can work out too."

Remember When Kate Moss Was Skinny?

Well she's not now. Don't get your Calvin Klein's in a bunch, it's not like anyone is calling K. Mo. fat. (Hmm... K.Mo. Yeah, okay, I can see why that never caught on.) But in today's game of anorexic roulette, the Waif herself comes out looking rather... normal.

Take Kate in the '90s. Not even any visible ribs! And real breasts!! And yet every major publication hailed her as the malnourished poster child for Heroin Chic.


And who can forget her famous CK undies ad? Sure, you can see her hip bones. And her thighs probably wouldn't touch if she put her foot down. (What exactly is she doing there? Checking for plantar warts?) But her arms have meat on them and you can't count the sinews in her knees.


Then there is this magazine cover - beautiful in the simple way that she made famous - from 2001 (as far as I can tell). No model these days would go out with those collar bones! Where is the pop? The shoulder nub? Her cheeks even lack their signature sunken appearance (probably because she is, for once, posing with her mouth closed).


Even today, as evidenced by her current reign as October's Vogue cover girl, she's thin but, admit it, looks kinda normal - at least by media standards.


See, Kate just isn't serious enough about continuing this Auschwitz chic that she started. If she were, she'd be doing the "banana bag" diet which is neither as porny nor as healthy as it sounds. The awkward moniker comes from the yellow color of the fluid in the IV bags. The fluid that starlets are mainline-ing in an effort to get their vital nutrients without the calories.

According to the Daily Mail, "Designed as IV drips for alcoholic patients in hospitals (who are undernourished from drinking more than they eat), this yellow-coloured liquid is being snapped up by those who opt out of eating in order to fit into their Kova & T Latex leggings."

Why would anyone feel the need to be so skinny that they would choose to get their multivitamin via a saline drip? Because they're competing with this:


And this:


Like I said, remember when Kate Moss was skinny?