December 10, 2010 § Leave a comment

The New New Yorker

by Courtney Hilden

I was having dinner a couple of nights ago with some friends, several of whom were British. When deep into a conversation, it is like a tunnel:  You come out into the light and wonder how you got there. This happened when I realized we were discussing fat people. I was really disappointed by the way the girls were being fatphobes, talking about how much they hated fat people. One of the girls works for a company that provides clothes and home furnishings for fat people, and she was saying some unpleasant things about them too, about how they buy a lot of clothes because it makes them feel good, about how their weight fluctuates a lot so thus they have to buy clothes, and about how they sell products to make their lives easier.  This last part of the conversation was doubly heartbreaking, because I had never thought that people needed that kind of help and because the look of disgust and revulsion on people’s faces disgusted me.  The girl started talking about how they sell toilet accessories so “fat people can sit on them” and special sticks that literally help them wipe their ass.  There were lots of comments about how could people let that happen to themselves.  I’m the fattest girl at the table, and although not actually fat, I thought about how much I had struggled with my weight and self-acceptance and self-confidence. How does someone who weighs much more than I do even begin to deal with the kind of bigotry? I can’t even imagine.  I was offended and hurt and I realize that I am not nearly as big as some people and they have to live with these kinds of attitudes all the time.

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You are currently reading Fatphobes at Arthur: the Art Zine.


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