Wednesday, August 02, 2006

14.


No, that is not the age when I gave it up. What kind of expression is "give it up" anyway? What would I be giving up, my hymen? I probably lost that during my years of horseback riding and ballet. And who did I know in 9th grade worthy of giving "it" up to? There weren't any eligible candidates in my class, I know that much. Chances are, you'd have to double the number 14 to represent when I will lose my virginity. Like my virginity is comparable to my car keys or a left sock. I'll just "lose" it. Now wherever did it go to? I'll have to ask my neighbors, "Have you seen my virginity? I had it last night, but I haven't seen it at all this morning."

I got way off track there. Concentrate, Bianca. 14. It was the size I was destined to be for my entire life. I have hovered around size 14 since I was in middle school. Sometimes lower at 12 or 13, sometimes higher approaching a 16, but always comfortable at 14. There was the period of time which I like to call The Year I Made Myself Crazy, when I cut my portion sizes in half, drank liters of water in hopes to quell my hunger pangs, and essentially exercised twice a day, six days a week for a year. I got down to a marginal size 10. Yeah, that didn't last long. After I somehow graduated from college and could no longer exercise like a triathlete to maintain chubby, I returned to my normal size.

I am currently going through my recurring period of insulation, where all my clothes are fitting me differently. I have my special items that I wear when these times arrive. I secretly call them my "Fatty McButterPants" clothes. I know that's not a nice name: that's why it's a secret.

People often reference Marilyn Monroe as an American icon who would supposedly be considered obese by today's standards. I prefer to mention Lucy Ricardo, the character, not the actual Lucille Ball. On the third episode of I Love Lucy called "The Diet," our heroine tries to lose enough weight so she can fit into a size 12 costume and be a dancer in Ricky's show. The concept of a woman on tv trying to lose enough weight so she can fit into a SIZE 12 was so insane to me the first time I saw it I laughed out loud solely at that concept. 38 years later, Clair Huxtable went on her own quest, with help of manic trainer Debbie Allen, to fit into a size 8 dress in six days.

Really, what is my point? Well, regardless of the fact that it would have been nearly impossible for Lucy to lose that much heft in whatever short period of time it was, plus the fact that a size 12 in Lucy's 1951 would have been a size 8 in Clair's 1988, none of the women in either of the shows were the pre-pubescent stick figures currently being jammed down our collective throats. Even the younger, thinner women Lucy was competing with during the dancer audition weren't that young, or that thin. They all had some significant meat on their bones, just a little less meat that Lucy had.

Back to me. Some day I will accept my body for what it is. For now, I'm just trying to deal.

1 comment:

Jody said...

Sizes are so much different now. How come our society never needed a size 00 20 years ago. I mean, I know there is a push to be thinner now but there were some petite people back then, too, who somehow found clothing on the size 2 rack. A size 2 is like a size 4 now, thanks to Abercrombie & Fitch, who have succeeded in driving their fashion sense into the ground. I actually think I spotted some color through their store window the other day as I hurried past the wife beaters and ripped jeans. I'm glad they think they can look to KFED for a fashion model. Saves me money.