"If You're Fat-Phobic..."

Dodai Stewart lays it on the line at Jezebel:

You cannot LOOK at someone and make a judgment about his or her health. So you shouldn't. And really: Even if you do know why someone is thin or fat, what business is it of yours? None. If a fat person disgusts you, if you're afraid of black people, if you're grossed out by gays kissing, know this: Your intolerance says way more about you than about those who repel you. When you're judging someone by weight and not moral compass, intelligence, empathy, creativity, talent or sense of humor, what kind of person are you? If you see two people--one fat and one thin--and say that the fat one disgusts you, what happens if you find out that the fat one is a loving mother and vet and the thin one is a serial killer?

Again: You cannot judge someone based on appearance. That said, you can read someone's words and tell if they are ignorant, biased, sizeist and hateful . . . Back in the day, people used to say that black people were intellectually inferior, that homosexuals were promiscuous. Today we consider this type of intolerant thought disgusting, abhorrent and politically incorrect. Someday we'll realize how bigoted and offensive we were about "fatties."

Snog for Equality

So, you know, Maura Kelly and Marie Claire fucked up. And are continuing to.

The best possible thing to say or do about it now is show up tomorrow at the protest at the Hearst Tower and smooch wildly at the Big Fat Kiss-In, organized in part by Marilyn Wann and Substantia Jones of Adipositivity.

It's amazing to me how much fat activism--lots of activism--has changed in the era of social media. Responses to balls-out fat hatred had a much harder time gaining momentum even five years ago. Everything is on the boil.

So.

Dear Maura Kelly:

Showing fat people kissing is not "implicitly promoting obesity," it is implicitly promoting the fact that fat people are human fucking beings. Get over it.

Kiss kiss kiss!
Lizzy ♥♥♥♥♥

just a reminder

This is what the average page looks like on a (multi-retailer) site that offers plus-sized clothing:



I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THESE CLOTHES WILL LOOK LIKE ON A LARGE BODY.

That is all.

photo Tuesday

Back from vacation! Slowly cranking up the Extender again. More soon.

zzzzines

I finally sent off a box of zines to the DePaul Library Zine Archives. It is an odd experience, handling their familiar, dog-eared (cliche, sorry), pages. One thing printed matter does that reading online doesn't is carry a collection of physical sensations with it: the thickness of the pages under your fingers; the (sturdy, flimsy) way it's bound and how the pages turn; the smells of inks; the sharpness or blurriness of type; the places it wants to fall open to when you pick it up.So when you reacquaint yourself with something like zines, memories that are physical as well as mental emerge. Handling them put me right back into my state of mind twenty years ago.

I found size-related zines I kind of had forgotten I had, including the first edition (does that phrase have the right connotation in this context?)--a first issue--of i'm so fucking beautiful my sister gave me. It's a powerful lil thing.

The page that jumped out at me, the one that I remember engaging with the most, was this one:

I can remember being very intrigued--scared--excited--nervous--about the idea of fat being "punk." I felt like it left me vulnerable, believing that. It could be punctured so easily as a rationalization. I had a sneaking suspicion it was true, despite wanting to call bullshit on it with the rest of the world. Fat could be many things, but never punk, especially in a punk world. But--it was. It is.

photo Tuesday