By Martha Rhine
Once upon a time, pictures of big women were sometimes pinned on the fridge as a deterrent for over-eating, or they were featured on postcards you’d pick up in a tourist shop on the beach. Photos of women on the beach in teeny bikinis, frolicking in the sun, an image to laugh at. A punchline.
That was then.
Fast forward to 2019. Now those curvy women in the photos might be featured on their Instagram pages or on Pinterest inspiration boards. No longer props to deter women from eating, they’re motivating women in a new era of body acceptance.
Fat and and not afraid to say it. “Fat Babes.”
Mulling the subject of fat meant turning to the person with whom I’d exhausted the subject all my life. My sister, Raquel.
“Turns out, we’re not fat,” she told me on the phone. Not if we’re removing stigma from the word.
My sister, size 4, and I, a size 8, do not qualify, no matter the width of our hips, the skin that swings under our arms when we wave, or the cellulite on our inner thighs.
“We’d been calling ourselves fat and then realized that not only were we incorrect in doing so, but we were being very fatphobic,” Raquel said.
Not surprising, considering the body issues that exist on both sides of our family. On my mother’s side are aunts who don’t eat bread, or aunts who don’t eat much of anything. On my father’s side are cousins always dieting; Atkins, cabbage soup, low-fat and weight-loss pills.
Some time ago, my grandfather asked me if I was pregnant. I wasn’t. Aunts and uncles remarked positively if I looked slimmer. “Don’t eat bread,” the same would advise, if I didn’t.
Recently I just haven’t felt the same.
A search of “fat inspiration” on Pinterest yielded the kinds of results showing me how I could get rid of bra fat, 30-day squat challenges, Keto recipes and many more tips and tricks on banishing body fat: belly, side, back, armpit.
But typing in “fat babe” into Pinterest gave me different results. Here, I was shown photos of curvy women wearing stylish clothes and sexy looks, and staring boldly into the camera. There are quotes and tattoos, cutesy illustrations and links to blogs or magazine articles featuring celebrities in the movement.
I think fat ladies are seizing their moment. Model Tess Holliday, who has been featured on the covers of Cosmopolitan and Self Magazine, enjoys the attention of over one million followers on Instagram, where she shares glam photos and inspiration, but also the highs and lows of being a fat woman in a world that conforms to specific beauty standards.
Gabi Gregg, aka “Gabi Fresh,” has over 6,000 followers on her Instagram page, where she shares body-positive advice and fresh looks, including some from her recent swimsuit line, called Swimsuits for All.
Recently, Hulu debuted the original series, “Shrill,” starring Saturday Night Live’s Aidy Bryant as Annie, a mid-20s writer for an alt-weekly on a bumpy journey to self love. The show is based on the 2016 book of essays of the same name, by New York Times columnist and activist, Lindy West, who often writes about feminism and the fat-acceptance movement.
One memorable episode of “Shrill” has fans buzzing. In Episode 4, titled “Pool,” Annie attends a fat babes pool party. All around her, fat women shamelessly flaunt their bodies as they swim, dance, pose and eat. Annie walks around awed but hesitant, slow to shed the jeans and blouse she wore to the pool.
It’s a curious scene, really. The fat girl feels shy about showing some skin at the pool, only this time, the pool is filled with people celebrating the fact that she can and should.
That’s the true story: Confidence is intermittent. Some days I’m on; some days I’m off. One moment I celebrate my curves, flaunt all that my mama gave me, and another I wonder how it all got so out of control. I see old pictures on Facebook that depress me. A bad outfit, a funny look, or a critical comment can bring my whole day down.
In those fragile moments, I’m inspired by the women who live on their own terms. Their confidence is infectious, and their beauty is undeniable.
