Oh, this is such an everyday topic in the media. The latest is certain celebrities are up in arms as their names are being associated with a set of scales without their permission (read ‘can’t make a buck’) . The manufacturer’s idea is to calculate the total weight loss required in order for the user to be the same size as their idols (said celebrities) .
Note I say ‘size’ here. Shape is a totally different issue, but I don’t think people are thinking in that direction. Size obviously matters.
Diets continue to come and go, the most recent I saw was the “Moon Diet” AKA “Werewolf Diet”, something to do with activities during a full moon (!) .
I didn’t bother to look to be honest as I thought it was probably a re-run of the jaffa cake advert where Teacher shows the class ‘Full Moon’ (whole jaffa cake) ‘Half Moon (one bite) ‘No Moon’ (eaten completely) .
Having struggled with my weight and failed miserably for years, I was probably the Telly Tubby prototype or model for Mrs Michelin Man.
Previous relationships seemed to want a partner that looked good on their arm, but didn’t have too much of a brain to think for themselves. I wouldn’t say I’m exactly a paper bag job and I suppose tart up quite well when I put my mind to it, but I much prefer ‘going nude’ in the makeup stakes, and have my own views on things rather than an echo of the person I’m with. Trying to be something (and someone) I’m not simply to please somebody else just made me ill.
It’s so different today. Hubby says he’s proud to walk alongside me anywhere, anytime, however I am. He loves me, and when he tells me so (every day), I have no reason to doubt it.
Going through my Scrapbook, I found an entry from 1983 that sums it all up. I hope Shirley Bassey doesn’t mind me pinching her song title for this tweaked 2014 revision.
I am What I am
I’d describe myself as cuddly, not fat, but far from thin,
The diets I have tried in vain just made my bank balance slim.
But ‘He’ wants me skinny and arm candy, a Page Three pin up girl,
Eyes made up, no glasses, hair long and straight, no curl.
There’s thousands out there like me, wanting to put up a fight,
We’re tired of all this male aggro, so come on Girls, Unite!
It’s the men who want us to diet, dolly birds to show off and own,
An ego trip for their vanity, why can’t they leave us alone?
We may have boobs like melons, and double chins like Mother’s Pride,
Be broad across the beam as well, but don’t shame us by being snide.
We’re nearly always cheerful, and happy with our lot,
Comfortable in mind and body, making the most of what we’ve got.
We’re homely, reliable, loyal, with sincere warmth within our heart,
At peace with all and sundry, until your comments start.
Only then do we feel ugly, displeased with what we see,
Looking in a mirror thinking ‘Good grief, that lump is me’.
Ladies, tell yourself you’re gorgeous, lose the belly by breathing in,
If anyone’s worth loving, it goes deeper than the skin.
So for all you naive gentlemen, think of what you may be denied
By not looking beyond the wrapper, you won’t know what’s inside.
Jaffa cake anyone?