This was taken around ’07 or ’08 before I dyed my hair dark. I remember when this was taken. I hated my body and thought I was fat, so instead of wearing a bikini and getting in the pool, I’m wearing track pants and posing goofily with a pool net. Being silly was my default. If I looked purposefully goofy then I couldn’t be scrutinized for my appearance. That was a very sad, very sick girl. I am now 10 – 12 pounds heavier than I was in this photo and I wish I looked as “fat” now as I did then. I’m learning every day and trying to be healthy and accept myself. If you have similar issues, please don’t listen to the voice in your head that tells you you’re not good enough. I wasted and missed out on fun because God forbid anyone see me in a bathing suit. NOT WORTH IT. I’m too fabulous. You are too!
(I originally posted this on Instagram and on my Facebook page and it seemed to get a big response, so I thought I would share it here too.)
Halloween is a big deal to me. As a kid I always loved dressing up. I took great pride in my costumes. In 10th grade, I dressed as Alex from “A Clockwork Orange” and no one knew who I was. My dad thought I was Liza Minelli from “Cabaret” and most of my friends said, “Hey your eyelash fell down.” One teacher at the school got it, and he asked me, “Are you a ‘Clockwork Orange’?” And I said yes, and he said, “That worries me.” (Love you, Mr. Everett). I made that costume using things from my closet and my high school’s wardrobe room and now they sell pre-packaged Clockwork Orange costumes for both men and women (the woman’s version is a dress/skirt). And there’s a photo going around on Pinterest of some toddler dressed as Alex, which is a super cute idea, to dress your little son as a rapist. Have people actually watched this movie the entire way through?
As I got older, I got less inspired. I actually started to have dreams, not just around Halloween but year-round, that it was Halloween and I didn’t have a costume and I was scrambling to find one. This has to mean something deeper, and if you want to figure it out, go for it. This year I really wanted to be Jarvis Cocker or Paul McCartney, but to find a good Beatles suit is expensive and I am not nearly skinny enough to be Jarvis Cocker (though to be fair, few are). So I decided to cave and buy something. I got into a nostalgia kick for “The Lion King” and thought the best idea ever would be to dress as Simba.
My mission became far more difficult than I ever thought. First of all, all Simba costumes I found were for toddlers, which is fucking bullshit. At most it went up to 10 year olds. For adults, there was, I kid you not, a “sexy” Nala costume. What the fuck is this malarkey? How is that even close to a lion costume? Why do you have to make Nala sexy?
And it just got worse. Every single lion costume I found was a “sexy” lion. Here are some examples. I just wanted to be a normal, giant-ass jungle cat. But all the good lion costumes were made for men or boys. And the men’s costumes don’t fit well on me, because I am a petite girl, like Estelle Getty sized, and I can’t wear something unisex and expect to be able to move in it. I succumbed to the Cushzilla lion onesie/pajamas and it’s comfy and I love it, but it made me sad that the best thing I could find was a unisex jumpsuit that is meant for someone way, way taller.
I also wanted to be Han Solo. Hey guess what? Even though it’s Halloween, a time when people are supposed to dress up as whatever or whomever they want, female Han Solo costumes do not exist, unless you’re into cosplay and you make one, and I barely know how to properly put on a bandaid, let alone sew something. I also thought about being Indiana Jones. I’ll let you compare the male Indiana Jones costumes to the female ones.
Yes, I could thrift and come up with an Indiana Jones costume, but why should I have to? Why are the only available female versions of Indiana Jones costumes sexualized? It’s Harrison Ford, he’s already sexy. Why doesn’t anyone want women to dress up as a non-sexualized version of a Halloween character? Do they not trust us? Do they think we won’t make it look good because we have boobs?
If you want to dress as a sexy version of something, I don’t care. Go ahead. You have every right to wear whatever you want. But I wonder if by supporting costume companies like Leg Avenue and Dreamgirl, companies that saw a huge boom within the past few years, we’re telling people, “Yes, this is how we always want to look, please make us sexy versions of everything, like Bert and Ernie.” And they did.
And honestly? It makes me sad. What do you think?
Don’t forget to check out my “Sexy” Costumes = Normal Bowie Costumes here on my blog and a slightly extended version on Hello Giggles. And if you’re looking to be Shelley Duvall from “The Shining” look at my post Fashion and the Shining.
A while ago I wrote a piece for my blog titled “Stop hitting on me” that people both praised me and critized me for. I think the criticisms came from people thinking I was bemoaning how hot I am and how I’m sooooo sick of male attention. Not even close. I don’t think that and that isn’t what I was trying to say. I probably should have titled the post “Stop harrassing me.” That is closer to the point of the article. Anyway, if you don’t feel like reading it, the post is about how rude and upsetting it can be when strange men harrass young women when all we’re doing is minding our own business. We should be able to walk down the street without a stranger commenting on our appearance. Doesn’t matter if the man in question is young or old. It comes off as creepy and disrespectful.
But. But. A few nights ago I had an experience with catcalling that did not make me feel degraded. It actually made me feel…happy. Attractive. Confident. Is this wrong and hypocritical?
I’ll explain the situation.
I don’t often like going to parties alone. I’ve written about the subject and on my blog and on Hello Giggles about how it’s okay to go alone and have a kick-ass time, but on occasion I feel overwhelmingly shy and not good enough. The event I went to last night was a gathering of beautiful people and hosted by one of my all time favorite film directors/artists and usually this doesn’t bother me, in that, I’m born in LA and have lived here my whole life, so who cares about celebrities, but given the drama that’s happened lately, I felt kind of small. And I’m really embarrassed, even ashamed, to admit that. Though I eventually met up with the awesome person who invited me, I had to go in alone and be there alone for about 40 minutes. But once I got in there I was okay. And here’s why.
I was waiting on the corner in my dress and lipstick and heels pretending to be busy on my iPhone determining if I should go in alone. I felt like a dweeb. Just very shy and not at all confident. I’m doing nothing with my phone and a car is at a red light near me. I don’t notice it until the man inside rolls down his window and says something like, “Excuse me, miss.” I’m thinking, “Okay, here we go.” And he says, “You have the perfect body.” And I’m stunned. I’m about to attend a party where there are size 0 actresses who look stunning like a ray-gun. I do not think I have even close to the perfect body. He went on. “I’m not trying to be weird or hit on you, but I muted my phone call just now, put them on hold, I had to tell you. You look so good.”
And I almost cried. I know. I’m apalled. But I needed to hear it, and he was so kind about it. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. You look great. Really.” Then the light turned green and he drove off.
Maybe my perception of body image is warped, and by maybe I mean, 100% completely is. I was surprised to receive this compliment from a strange man. And yes, I was flattered.
Am I screwed up? What do you think and what’s your experience been like?
So I’m watching Whitney (yeah, so what, I watch Whitney sometimes, the parts with Whitney are funny, the part with her friends not so much) and the episode is about her wearing fake boobs and how her boyfriend reacts. The episode is also about her friends being annoying and stupid but again, the interesting part is about Whitney. So Whitney wears this bra that makes her A cup a double D. And considering that Whitney is already so thin and tall and pretty, this makes her look like even more of a model, but I don’t think we’re supposed to think that way. I think we’re supposed to see Whitney as an avergae modern day gal, like a foul mouthed Mary Tyler Moore for the twitter era.
P.S. Whitney.
So anyway Whitney now has big fake boobs and this intrigues her boyfriend. And Whitney is insulted because he says that when she wears them, it’s like he “gets to be with someone else.” Our dear heroine Whitney says something like, “Why can’t you accept me for who I am?” and “Admit it, you wish I had bigger boobs” and earlier in the episode when she first gets the bra she says, “Why does everyone hate women?” which I thought was a really great line. Her boyfriend retaliates that she wishes he were different too, like why can’t he be more like Don Draper? Because she likes Mad Men and talks about Jon Hamm a lot.
The point of the episode was, if we could change our partners, would we? Or do we like them for who they are, flawed and all? And also, do women need to have big boobs?
I’m at the point where I’m happy with my boobs, even though they’re Whitney sized. It’s all about the quest for abs anyway. I’ve heard from lots of guys (and not from me asking, just from life) that they don’t really care about the size of the boobs they just care about boobs in general. Boobs are great!
P.S. Boobs.
Anyway, using this show as an example, at what point did Whitney’s boyfriend realize, “Oh wait, my girlfriend has small boobs” and decide it wasn’t a big deal? In between the time when you started dating your sig other and the time when you became a long term item, when do you come to terms with something and accept it or decide that it needs to be changed or you’re done?
And no, this isn’t based on me or anything going on in my life. This is all Whitney.
What do you do when your ex leaves you for his A-list actress ex girlfriend?
How do you land a musician boyfriend? What's it like to make a total jackass of yourself when you meet that actor you've had a crush on for years?
What would When Harry Met Sally... look like in 2013?
Am I hungry?
These questions and more are answered and explored by Almie Rose in "I Forgot To Be Famous";
essays and how-to's about dating, relationships, living in Los Angeles, and how they all crash into each other, like the car chase scene in the mall in the Blues Brothers movie...which she hasn't seen, but is not at all opposed to.
