Some Fitting Advice

Does this make me look fat? 

Once upon a time, when someone asked you a question, you were expected to answer honestly. Now? Political correctness: a prevalent form of coercive speech modification to compensate for distorted hypersensitivity (my definition).

 

... My feet hurt from walking on all these eggshells...

What, now I can't tell the truth? Then why do you ask me? Because you want me to be an accomplice in your delusion? What about sound judgment? What about rational thinking? Objective reality? TRUTH? 

You: Does this make me look fat?  

Me: Yes. Return it to the store and buy something that fits. 

There. Simple, direct, and honest.

But in the millisecond it takes to envision the look of horror on your face if I really say that, I've already started rummaging through my mental card file of politically correct and sensitive alternatives.

Politically-Correct Me (completely avoiding a direct answer to your direct question): "You know, I really like that black number you wore last week. You look great in it. Why don't you try that?" 

That works. You waddle off and change your clothes. 

Besides being dishonest, all this hedging and spin seems so… counterproductive. What good does it really do? You will continue to buy those slinky size 6s and stretch them over your size 14 body unless someone has the courage to suggest you start browsing a little farther up the boutique racks. 

Yikes – look at teenage girls. I suppose I should be glad they have such a positive body self-image, especially considering eating disorders and anorexia. But don't they have a full-length mirror in the house? How about a real BFF with a brain and common sense to share? 

Orange-peel jelly belly below a crop top. Saddlebags and thunder thighs crammed into skinny jeans. Maybe what they have is a fun-house mirror - the kind that distorts the image to be something it isn't. Something it definitely isn't. 

Even slender girls seem to have those mandatory "love handles" (don't get me started on THAT euphemism) hanging over the top of their pants. Why? What are they thinking? 

Oh. I guess they're not thinking.

  

Hellllllloooooooo, it's not called a 'muffin top' because it's yummy. It's overflow. Too much crammed into too small a space. 

Now, I have nothing against a size 14 body, don't get me wrong. In fact, one of the most beautiful women I've ever known was a shapely size 14. She just knew the secret: she wore clothes that FIT. I think women of all sizes are so much more beautiful when they do. 

Who cares about the size number? I don't wear the size tags hanging out of my clothes, and I noticed you don't either. 

So be real, be "fit," and be really beautiful. : ) 

The beautiful "Walking on Eggshells" image is used with permission from the artist (c)2009 bonniebythebay