One of the things I often do with my husband is go to these little concerts his old school puts on for friends and faculty. This place makes me green with jealousy every time I go, too: well-funded school, with an emphasis on arts and music. My mind-boggles: a school that doesn't hit you over the head with sports, sports, sports... One that actually encourages reading for enjoyment, learning to play an instrument, their theatre is wonderful and where being a "painter" isn't something only the "weird kids" were interested in. None of that drek I used to hear every live-long day: "you'll never make a living on your art- get a real job!"

Dang, Kani, why couldn't I have grown up in Santa Monica? *droools in a corner for a while*

I went to schools where it was considered "cost-effective in this economy" (IE: whenever their own salaries were threatened due to needing to cut the budget, they'd cut everything that makes school bearable for impoverished kids in the worst neighbourhoods), cutting ANYTHING art-related, hype up the sports (they always get more funding, somehow) and pretty much ignoring real education... or learning cool stuff like playing a guitar or a piano. Um, yeah, the exact kinds of neighbourhoods I grew up in, the exact kinds of schools we got stuck with.

Sour-grapes: only the rich kids get to have a real education. "Wrong side of the tracks", mixed-breed Indian mutts like me don't "deserve" to know more than how to read or operate machinery... when I wasn't being expected to either wait tables, get married and have a clutch of brats, go on welfare, or become a prostitute for one of the local gangs.

Anyway, this isn't about my green-eyed monster and it's love-hate relationship with money and the people who had it handed to them.

Nope, it's about something I overheard last night AFTER the concert from one of the privileged kids I'd just seen perform: "should I be a fatty and have a cookie?"

I nearly broke my neck doing a double-take: Whut? Seriously? The cookies were exquisite little miniature confections maybe an inch wide. The girl who piped this in all innocence was almost six-feet tall (5' 8" or 10", in heels), thin enough that I could put my two hands around her non-existent waist and she was eye-balling the tray of bakery goods like it might bite her instead of the other way around! She couldn't have been much older than fifteen or sixteen, and she was already talking about food like it was poison.

I almost cried.

What kind of a world are we living in when wealth is symbolized by the starveling figure of the fashion model? Where any amount of pudge, once thought to show wealth and health, is now the next worst thing to suffer than actually being poor? Looking at the star-studded world of TV and movies, I see a lot of overly-thin people with really expensive clothes, and where I grew up, a lot of very poor people with too much fat on their bodies wearing jeans and t-shirts wishing they could be the starved person onscreen while scarfing down their mac-n-cheese for the fourth time that week because it was all they could afford. Cheap food, if you want a lot of it to feed your family, is often the worst-quality food you can get, loaded with preservatives and high-fructose corn-syrup. This is stuff I wouldn't suggest anyone should eat, yet it's everywhere, it's what I can afford, and it's making me, and everyone else who has to buy it, fat...

I wanted to SAY something. I really did. But I'm a short, fat, woman, with the build of a peasant: broad shouldered, hefty arms, thick muscle under all of it... and I had a loaded, 7-inch paper plate covered with wee slices of bread, vegetables or cheese (one had 2" pieces of rare steak!), a couple of those tiny cookies she was considering and a whole whopping load of... guilt.

Guilt. Over FOOD.

All kinds of little scenarios whizzed through my brain like a time-lapse video: FLASH! I say something about her being too thin, FLASH! I joke that one cookie won't kill her- but not eating will, FLASH! I take a cookie and eat it, right in front of her, with a malicious grin... Then, I hit on what I should have said: "Decide- have a cookie, or not, but don't associate food with guilt. As soon as you feed yourself on guilt, you're setting yourself up for a life of misery and self-hatred. Just... don't."

But, I was silent, feeling like I always do in those kinds of situations: awkward, unlovely, utterly stupid... and fat.

I'll be blunt. I'm a fat chick. I have jowls, a double chin and a "lap-flap". I baby-powder my rolls so I won't get maddeningly-itchy yeast-infections in there. I'm 5' 3" if I stand up really straight and I weigh-in at approximately 210 lbs on a good day. I don't overeat, don't eat out a lot- once a week is our "get out of the house and be a couple"- I don't use sugar at all and, though I admit a fondness for caramel and nuts, most of the candy we buy is for my husband,  kanis. If I could convince him, my snack of choice would be beef-jerky. Hard to convince a vegetarian to let me eat dead animal, but I ate those pieces of micro-steak and loved 'em with no guilt about that whatsoever.

True, I could certainly exercise more and I've been doing that- going on bike-rides with my equally out-of-shape hubby that leave me dripping and breathless while he complains that he's not even broken a sweat. Makes me rage that a guy with no muscle-tone that I've been able to find, the guy with the classic computer-geek build, can beat me, the person who used to ride four miles to work every day on a bike. Dammit. We go rock-scrambling/climbing when we go camping, and for walks after dinner.

Now, this isn't an apologia about my weight. I know the fat is not healthy, and that I run the usual risks of diabetes, heart-problems, high-blood-pressure and so on. It's also true that I don't like my shape very much, what a surprise. No, this is about being healthy and having to live in a world that lives in denial: we're obese, as a culture, yet our world is built to cater to the skinny.

Go to a mall if you want to see this in action: most of them only sell clothes up to a size 16... petite. All of the mannequins look creepily underfed and impossibly stretched in height, none of the styles marked as "plus-size" (18 to 24W) ever fit right, nor are they often even attractive. Now, look at the people in this hypothetical mall- I bet they are pudgy, spilling over their pants, waddling along in clothing that barely fits them at all, never mind fitting right, and ask yourself: "If these folks are the norm, why aren't the stores selling stuff they can actually WEAR?"

Good question.

I mean, we see ads on TV, in magazines, on billboards and in the stores themselves and what do they show? People who's appearance is artificially-enhanced with Photoshop or old-school airbrushing, and the models are underweight to begin with. We see a bare 5% of the human population who are "gifted" with this look, and we get inundated with their faces and bodies all trying to sell us on the idea that WE should look like that, too. Seeing this laid bare, so to speak, is it any wonder anorexia and bulimia have become two of the top mental-illnesses among teens, right behind depression?

In so many ways, each of us is being told that we're ugly if we aren't an emaciated, six foot stick with perfect teeth, thick manes of hair and nails hard as well... nails. The clothing I can buy is almost exclusively stretch or baggy men's jeans and big T-shirts. But, if I want to pay more than I should out of my meager budget, I can get clothes by companies like Liz Claiborne or Holy Clothing and get either the uptight office-matron or the Earth-Mother look.. Weee.

My tastes in fashion very much do not reflect the "standard": I like dreamy Renaissance stuff, Gothic/Industrial prettiness, hard-edged cyber-punk, gear-and-goggle-happy Steam-punk and gritty street-punk sorts of clothing. My palette of colours has a lot of black in it, plus some purple, chartreuse, even a little pink. I like textures and patterns: paisley, brocades, velvets and details like bead-work and appliques... Unless you commission it special, you're going to have the same trouble I do: hardly anyone makes this stuff for real people. They prefer to make it for heroin-addicted rock-stars with less than ten percent body fat.

Not even the scene that is this culture's refuge for the unhappy and misunderstood wants us fatties. Well, there's the Furry, cosplay, or sci-fi fandoms- they have no trouble accepting the larger folk among us- it's even a stereotype: if you like sci-fi or anime, you're a geek. If you're a geek, you're probably fat, socially-awkward and living in your parent's basement. Like all stereotypes, it's true for some folks, very much not true for most of the rest.

The Plus Size market, what there is of it, is "saturated" with the kind of clothing a person who wants to disappear might wear. It's social camouflage: beiges, pastels, earth-tones, blah, wishy-washy floral prints. It's wallpaper for the body. Well, what if I want pretty as well as serviceable, well-fitting, durable clothing that someone on a budget can actually afford? I can get serviceable, but well-fitting seems to be impossible, as is comfortable. Durable isn't even on the charts: most mass-manufactured garments have an effective life-time of two years, tops, for anyone, no matter how gentle and careful you are with the item, or three, if you only wear it a few times a month. As for pretty or prices, get a second mortgage if you want a decent wardrobe.

Or, make your own, like I'm currently doing.

Who's heard of the site, "People of Walmart"? More particularly, the "Wal-Martians"? Ever notice, that, while a lot of the photos can be hilarious (I'm not immune to the "point-and-laugh" type of humour, sorry. I AM ashamed of it, if it helps), that the people in the pics tend to be obese? Not just pudgy, like me, not just a little extra fat from too much Holiday feasting, but morbidly, it's-amazing-that-they-can-walk obese. Um, why are we laughing at fat people? When did this become cool enough to have whole web-sites devoted to it?

Ostensibly, the photo blog is meant to poke fun at what they're wearing (believe me, some of the choices these folks have made are enough to make your hair go white). But I notice a common, and distressing, theme: in more than half the cases, the clothes they're wearing would have been fine if they FIT. To me, this suggests that these men and women, if they're buying their clothing at Wallyworld, either don't know the first thing about how to properly size and fit themselves, or they're buying the largest size they can find and simply making that do because they have little choice due to their size and/or budgets. I know Walmart sells some Plus-Size stuff- I've hunted through their racks often enough- most of it is hideously ugly, and the few pieces I've actually liked were still too small or just built too weirdly to be comfortable.

Now, as far as "fat-chicks" go, I'm actually not that big. By the standards the most common clothing manufacturers use, I range from a size 18 to a 20, the middle of the Plus-Size range, even near the bottom with a few companies. Yet, I can't tell you how many times I've gone into a store looking for a pair of pants, say, and, coming across a style I'd love to wear... only to find it doesn't come in my size. I'll ask the staff about it and I'll get the inevitable "oh, we don't carry them over a size 16...", accompanied by that pitying/gloating look I effing despise...

When I do find something that might fit... it does, sort of. By sort of, I mean that I can get into the garment and comfortably close the fly (pants, remember?), but then, I discover two things: the crotch is too high and the waist is too wide. Result? Let's just say that you shouldn't expect to be able to bend over or even sit down without being afraid your pants will end up round your ankles. The same kind of problems crop up in tops and dresses: they all accommodate our hips and bellies, even back-width, but totally forget things like busts and upper arms. Always, and I mean always, the shirt is too tight across my chest, the bust-point is set for perky, skinny-people boobs and arm-holes are either too low, too big, or even too small, making the upper sleeve too tight. The designers seem to believe that we have no waists or curves, either- everything is built on either the A-line or a square.

I'm an hour-glass figure, thank you very much!

It's as if the off-the-rack fashion companies have never dealt with a real body before, instead trying to size-up styles from a 10 into a 20, which never works. It inevitably adds in distortions that end up making a garment nearly unwearable. This could be another reason why A-lines and squares are so "popular" in the Plus-Size world: it's easier to grade the clothing, with fewer distortions, and simpler patterns mean less wasted fabric (smaller, fiddly pieces of well-fit garments actually end up using more material because of the odd shapes. Less wasted fabric is another reason why garment-companies tend to make their wares in smaller sizes, maybe they're gambling that there will be enough customers to buy the lines, despite the demographics that say the population is larger). Instead of actually addressing the distortions at all, they just use the simplest of pattern blocks. Have these people never heard of the "Princess-line"? It's flattering to the most body-types, and it's easy to size with few problems (but, because of the curves, it might be fall into the "fiddly" category).

Anyway, enough about clothes, except for one last thing: I got into fashion-design because of these and other problems and my wardrobe is slowly becoming made up of more and more of my own, unique designs, made by me, for me- now, I'm building a business on it.

You'd think that getting more exercise would make sense, right? That it would help me reduce my middle to where I'd prefer it to be. I like riding my bike, for example. Problem is, no bike (as far as I know) is rated to carry much more than 200 lbs. I ride my bike anyway, even though I'm going through rear inner-tubes like crazy (three in the last three months alone- finally got the heaviest-grade of inner-tube I could find- the sort used by cross-country cyclists for thorn and glass resistance). Forget finding a seat wide enough be comfortable- joy, just what I've always wanted, a super-wedgie from my own bike. As well, I always eventually end up with a seat that tilts downward more and more over time because my m/ass stresses the metal brackets to the point where they bend, leaving me to continuously reposition myself on the seat.

How about those plastic patio chairs everyone seems to have? Rated for a max of... wait for it... 200-250lbs. Folding camp-chairs? 225 lbs. Step-stools? 250-300 lbs- at least I'm safe there. We can't even have cheap furniture we can use! Not to mention airline seats or the "get-narrower-so-they-can-cram-more-people-in-every-time-they-renovate-the-bus-line" seats...

Really, I exercise when I can, even if it isn't often enough: I go for walks, ride my bike, sometimes go camping or even do yoga, hiking, free-climbing (more like rock scrambling, but it apparently counts- it's just not as extreme). I don't eat crappy McD's or other take out more than a few times a year (honestly, McD's never). I'm not overly fond of potato-chips, cookies or candy, but I do like ice-cream. Nope. My sin is that I'm sitting in a chair 10-12 hours a day working on art, sewing or crafting jewelry. It's just not enough exercise to burn off the few calories I actually take in (roughly 1500 to 2000 a day- well within normal range).

But, I'm healthy, my heart is good, my blood-pressure excellent (last time it was tested, it was 106 over 70), I'm not pre-diabetic, my blood-sugar is normal, cholesterol is a bit high, but not threatening (it runs in my family, though), my asthma is well under control, I'm trying to work in more intense exercise, I'm almost entirely vegetarian (I still love meat, I just eat very little of it, now), and...

I'm a fat chick.

The world had better wake up and deal with it, because there are more of us, than there are of you- "you" meaning the skinny artificial people we're telling ourselves to look like.

I'm sure many of you have seen this particular graffito: the phrase "No Fat Chicks" spray-painted on alley walls, bus-shelters, or wherever tags are found. The mockery is the part I can't stomach. Other than Muslims and Hispanics, right now, we are pretty much the only demographic that can be openly mocked with seeming impunity. Frankly, it could be any racial/ethnic/religious/ideological group being set up as scape-goat for the "witch-hunts"- it was blacks, once, then Jews, then Communists, now, it's Muslims... and fat people. Repulsive practice that seriously needs to end. It's "cool" to make fat jokes. Comedians make whole careers out of it (the Frantic's "You People Are Fat" sketch comes to mind). Sit-coms have whole episodes rife with it (Drew Carey and Mimi), or worse, entire series make bank on it (the Biggest Loser or that new sitcom where the whole family is obese and the father is in over-eater's anonymous, or anything with Rosie O'Donnell).

It disgusts me that people who often could stand to lose a few pounds themselves will make the rudest comments behind our backs, without even trying to hide the fact that we can easily hear them. They'll say things like "you've had a few too many... burgers! Naah, the whole cow!" or, "Hey! Jabba the Hutt's in town!", or, in the interests of being "helpful" to us poor, benighted, ignorant fatties "have you thought about a diet or exercise?", to which I usually answer, "why yes, in fact, I have- I like rock-climbing and hiking regularly. Have you thought about some exercise yourself, like exercising your discretion by not being such a jerk and pointing out the bloody fucking obvious?"

It's like they think we don't know how big we are or what we look like Yes, I have a mirror, thank you, and no, it doesn't break when I look at myself in it. I've been wanting to use this line for a while, now: "The blubber only insulates me from the neck down... fat might be clogging my arteries, but not my ears- in other words, I can hear you, you moron!"

For all the "helpful" twits or even the unabashed assholes out there, I want to fix something for you: No Fat-heads" (replacing chicks with head).

Ever notice that guys can have a belly, but, as soon as a woman puts on a few pounds everyone goes batshit? All of the stars I can think of who seem to make as much of a career over their weight as they do their acting/singing/serial-marriages and drug-habits are women (Oprah, Kirstie Ally, Queen Latifah, etc. Though Latifah has been proving to everyone that she's beautiful as well as large- you GO , girl!). Yet, pudgy male actors don't get nearly the same amount of flack (Drew Carey, Wilford Brimly, Lawrence Fishburn, and so on).

Here's a question: if the character Mimi from the Drew Carey Show had been a slim woman with no other changes, yet still keeping the same attitude, personality and "fashion sense", would everyone still like her? She dresses outrageously because, since she isn't conventionally pretty, wearing the sartorial equivalent of a technocolour yawn will have to suffice to get noticed. I doubt anyone would still find her appealing if she'd been thin: she's loud, pushy, obnoxious, and rude- possibly as compensation for a life of loneliness, fat-jokes and empty evenings alone with a tub of cheesecake ice-cream, no doubt. I suspect that the acerbic and bitter comedy Mimi is so good at is the internal compensation for being fat and thus, "unlovely". TV characters are broad, like that- pardon the pun. Take off the fat and leave behind the same Mimi with her eye-searing outfits, cartoonish makeup and "take no shit from stupid people", in-your-face attitude and I can't imagine many folks still liking her...

All of this was in my mind last night at the little reception after the concert, and I couldn't say any of it. I couldn't say what I really wanted to say to the six-foot stick girl: Guilt should never be on the menu, and EAT A DAMNED SANDWICH!