Barking Mad

Abercrombie and Fitch Doesn't Like Fat Girls - and This is News, How?

While I agree that Abercrombie & Fitch CEO,  Mike Jeffries is a huge douche, I'm not entirely sure why there's this sudden outrage over statements he made six years ago to Salon magazine where he's quoted as saying: 

“In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids,” he told the site. “Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely. Those companies that are in trouble are trying to target everybody: young, old, fat, skinny. But then you become totally vanilla. You don’t alienate anybody, but you don’t excite anybody, either,” he told Salon.

People, this isn't news.   Almost everyone who shops at A&F, if they can get past the hideous stink of whatever that crap is they insist on spraying in their stores - which you can't wash out of your clothing without using copious amounts of vinegar (yes, I know this from experience, as I've bought both Meg and Gaby clothing from A&F in the past)knows that their line of clothing is marketed towards people who are, dare I say, at healthy to anorexic weights?   And yes, their clothing for girls and women doesn't go past a large while they go up to an XXL for boys and men - which I can understand to a certain point because generally boys and men have larger frames, but on the other hand, as a nation, females are an average size 14 - but I guess that's unacceptable in A&F terms. 

So, anyone with even only one functioning eye and basic comprehension skills can walk into an A&F store in any mall across America and  see that in the last six years, their marketing strategies haven't changed, yet here we are, getting our collective panties in a bunch, just now? 

"Fat chicks" get it.  We aren't part of the in-crowd . . . but that's a crowd that we've all ALLOWED men like Jeffries to define for far too long.    More and more of us are starting to care about ourselves and not let dicks like this define our self worth by the size of our clothes or the number on a scale.   That doesn't mean we don't need to lose some of the flab, it just means we're getting better about pushing back when it comes to assholes like this who seek to undermine the slow progress we're making in teaching ourselves and our daughters (and sons) about being healthy, happy, and having self esteem. 

Maybe Jeffries does have this singular vision of Nazi-like "All American youth" in which the girls are all beautiful with nary a hint of cellulite or pimple, have perfectly coiffed hair,  and the boys all play football or are water polo Olympians, and are ruggedly good looking; the company has a long-standing  and admitted reputation of being outrageously insensitive.  However, it's our job as parents and mentors to our children and the young people around us, and to our fellow sisters and brothers in the global community, to push back against asinine volleys lobbed at us from the likes of Jeffries and his lowly toadies that obviously salivate in his presence.    It's also our obligation to raise children who are capable of making the conscious choice of whether to value the physically pleasing aesthetics of those they surround themselves with, or to place a higher value on how those people treat them, their compassion, and their humanity.    

That doesn't mean you raise your kids to be compassionate, caring, humane, but fat slobs.    As much as you have an obligation to raise kids who are socially moral, you also need to make sure you are instilling in them a sense of health and wellness at the same time . . . not with the goal of making sure they and wedge themselves into a pair of size 0 Abercrombie & Fitch jeans, but that they can live a long, healthy, happy life.   It's also our job, as a nation, to make sure we all have access to nutritious food - alas, that's a topic for an entirely other post. 

The way I see it, you have a choice.   You can sit there and continue to call out Mike Jeffries on his exclusive marketing practices, along with those of other fashion marketers who seem to have an eye towards only providing fashion for [their definition of] the beautiful people,  and this includes all of the ways the media and society emphasize this notion - including social media,  or you can get off of your collective asses and start being the role models our children need and stop abdicating that role to Jeffries and men and women like him.    

Yes his statements are sexist, elitist, and size-ist, and you might not like it, but we have all helped push Mike Jeffries to where he is today.  We've allowed his notion of what perfect children look like and whether they're worthy of society's acceptance or not, to permeate our lives.   As long as we keep buying what he's selling, nothing will ever change, and we'll still live with this vicious cycle of righteous indignation and outrage every time someone like him makes these sort of comments. 

The Perm From . . .

 . . . HELL!

I don't believe I am going to do this, but here is a picture I took just a few minutes ago so that you might grasp the full awfulness of what I've done to my hair.  Well, let me rephrase that, what I paid to have done to my hair.

I single-handed brought back the bad perm from the 80's!

For those who frighten easily, are prone to seizures, or who think they might be overcome with hysterical laughter to the point of peeing themselves, look away now!

Not only have you been presented with the visage of the artist formerly known as my hair, but aside from eye make-up, I've not got anything else on.  For once you can truly see how uneven my skin tone is.   I should have put some spackle in those deep Grand Canyonesque lines on my forehead, and maybe a little powder.  I keep trying to talk Gareth into letting me try Botox, but every time I do, he refuses, saying that I don't need it!  Ha!  Maybe this photo will convince him otherwise!

I went and had about and inch taken off of the length and about 1 1/2 inches taken off of all the layers today in an attempt to negate the Kentucky Fried ends.   It feels a lot better but sadly it doesn't look a lot better.

The upside to all of this is that it's hair, and being hair, it will grow back.  Being my hair it will grow fairly quickly.   But I'm sorta stuck waiting and that's a bad thing because I highlight it to camouflage all the grey, and at this point I'm not putting any more chemicals on my hair.  I've been told by three different stylists that it will be alright to highlight/foil again in about a month but I'm hesitant to trust anyone right now after ending up with the Miami Vice of bad perms.

In the interim I'm investing in hats.  Lots of hats.  Possibly wigs too.   Why?  Because otherwise,  I'm pretty sure I'm going to be mistaken for Phil Spector on an almost daily basis!

Alternately, I suppose I could always be mistaken for one of their groupies . . .

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Today Gaby and I created Christmas cards to send to names we're picking from the phone book.  Yep, total strangers.   We popped them into the post box and they're winging their way to hopefully brighten up the day of whoever happens to find them in their mail box.  This was so much fun and Gaby had so much fun, even if she is extremely curious about what the recipients are going to say when they open them.  We did not include a return address!

Join me in taking the "31 Days of Giving" challenge and enter for a chance to win a $150 VISA gift card from Barking Mad!

 

Dear Tim Gunn, Does It REALLY Matter What Size Her Dress Is?

Because I'm still under the weather and have eaten what amounts to possibly 500 calories all day long, I'm foregoing my daily photo-round-up of my meals (there was only one meal to be begin with and it was simply an egg sandwich with a cup of yogurt and so far that's not sitting real well!), and instead am going to get something off of my chest that's been bothering me since I first read about Tim Gunn's comments on what he thought was Kirstie Alley's "actual dress size."

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Dear Mr. Gunn,

May I call you Tim?  You can call me Audrey.   I figure the less formal we are, the better chance I have of being able to convince you that there is a real person underneath the additional 200lbs I'm carrying, and worry less about what double-digit dress size I am.  

Before we move any further though, please know that I'm not comfortable at all wearing my customized fat dress around.  Up until recently there were 150 additional pounds of flesh to be heaved here and there.  It's slow going, but the point is,  it's going going and soon to be gone!   While I am one of the many morbidly obese that you see walking around,  I'm not one of these ladies who choose to flaunt my flesh so-to-speak.   I'm starting to believe that the real beauty is what's inside and how I see myself.  I don't believe there's anything beautiful about being obese.  However, I also don't believe it's what people should focus on when meeting me for the first time, or basing their initial reaction to seeing me, on.   I don't believe it's OK that they gasp in shock and horror when imagining what size I wear.  Alas, they do.   The focus is the number . . . whether it's my weight or my dress size. 

So, Tim, I happened to come across a couple of comments you recently made about Kirstie Alley's dress size.   Can we take a moment just to laud Kirstie's accomplishment of achieving a healthier weight?  Can we say a little prayer that this time she's able to keep it off and has dealt with whatever demons she was battling that caused her to balloon to an unhealthy weight and then yo-yo back and forth?   Maybe we can just sit here for a minute and admire the fact that for a 60 year old woman, she looks pretty damned amazing?   Actually let's forget the fact that she's 60, it's just another number! 

Kirstie Alley looks spectacular! 

Now that we've established in the affirmative that Kirstie looks insanely great, let's backtrack a little to what prompted me to get up on my [industrially reinforced] soapbox and direct my thoughts your way.

Back in the October 3rd issue of  the People Magazine interview with Kirstie Alley, she claimed to now be in a size 6 dress.  You argued that she probably wasn't actually a size 6, yet closer to an 8 or a 10.  Then after making a cutting comment like that, probably realizing you sounded like a condescending superficial fashionista, you added that you thought she "looked fabulous!"   You went on to state, "People are too size conscious."  And then followed it up with another zinger, "More importantly, how do you look in your clothes?"

Why did you feel it necessary to even argue Kirstie Alley's claims about what size she wears?   You live in world dominated by men and women who don't wear realistically sized clothing anyway!   Your world consists of women who intentionally restrict themselves to fewer than 700 calories a day in order to maintain an unhealthily skinny physique, and then you call that look 'haute couture'.

While this might be the norm in your world, in the world I live in, I can't figure out whether those dangerously thin women have a role in a movie about third world starvation, or if the outfit she's modeling is being marketed to anyone larger than a premature infant?  Only a man in your world would make a comment like the one you did about Kirstie Alley's dress size and then mention how fantastic she looks! 

Your world reinforces the notion  (a notion that millions of pre-teens and teenagers the world over think is the ultimate desire)  that the number on the label is the most important thing, only then followed by how great someone looks, and of course how great they look is a direct result of that number. 

Who cares what Kirstie Alley's actual dress size is?   For that matter,  you, more than anyone should know that the American women's sizing system is skewed beyond belief.   Your world is focused on fashion that the average American woman could not even get one leg into, let alone her whole body.    A Costume National, Dries Van Noten, or Alexander McQueen creation would not be marketable to the average American woman nor is it designed to.  Perhaps that's part of the problem.  A problem which you no doubt condone when you insist on focusing on a woman's size first, rather than who she actually is, inside that size.   

Incidentally, the three designers I picked above, would be who I'd choose to outfit me, if I were to ever get back down to my pre-pubescent weight.   While that's a pipe dream, and one I don't even harbor wishing for, there are millions of girls and women the world over, who do.   When you think about it, and consider what they're doing to themselves in the name of attaining that ideal, it's heartbreaking.

Going back to your comment, "People are too size conscious,"  let's ponder for a moment why that might be?   Could it perhaps be that the first thing out of your mouth when responding to Kirstie Alley's claims about her current size, were to doubt it?   Could it possibly have anything to do with some of the earlier points I mentioned?   You consistently reinforce the superficial and then condone the notion that the number matters first and foremost.  

Before we go any further, I did see your little guest stint on NBC's The Biggest Loser and for a brief moment was lulled into believing that maybe you weren't as superficial as you appear.   Then you went and made the pompous and patronizing remarks about Kirstie Alley's dress size and officially removed all doubt from my mind that you are in fact, as superficial as I've believed you to be.

Isn't it bad enough that anyone who isn't a perfectly proportioned woman, but who happens to be overweight, or obese, is relegated to fashion that has all the comfort and style of... oh wait, it's impossible to use the words "comfort and style" when describing plus-sized clothing because they don't exist!   Melissa McCarthy was right when she recently said, "Trying to find stuff that's still fashion-forward in my size is damn near impossible. It's either for like a 98-year-old woman or a 14-year-old hooker, and there is nothing in the middle."

I'm hopeful that even though I'm finally getting a handle on my personal demons - the things that led me to gain an outrageous amount of weight,  that I won't always be dependent on jeans that make me look like I have Redwood tree stumps for legs,  blouses that don't fit my proportions, bras that have so much wire in them I could probably fence my entire backyard with it, and dresses that make me look . . . well, every bit as fat as I am . . .

Image of me from July 2010 that was initially submitted with my Biggest Loser application process, that got me in the door and had that ball rolling...I swore I would never ever post this, but what have I got to lose?

I'm also hopeful that one day I'll live in world that isn't dominated by arrogant, judgmental, and dismissive individuals like you that contribute towards making the obese, or those that aren't model-perfect,  feel less-than because we are more-than what you consider ideal.

The focus of your comments to Kirstie Alley were dismissive.   Only after you made your point did you bother mentioning how breathtaking she looked.  Why couldn't you have just begun and then ended your comments with the positive rather than debating and emphasizing her size? 

Oh, that's right, because in your world, size is everything.   Size is the Diety that rules the fashion world. 

In my world, health is everything and I'll be damned if I'm going to let people like you make me feel like I'm unworthy because I'm not your version of idyllic.

Tim, if you  (or anyone else for that matter) still don't get it, then please feel free to kiss my plus-sized ass.   

The Re-Birth of My Smile: Part II

You can read Part I here.

When I first leaned back into Dr. Benjamin's chair this morning, I said a little prayer that Gaby would be the wonderful 4 year old that everyone thinks she is, and not talk talk talk talk all the time we were in there, and that she'd not end up being traumatized over what she was watching happen to my mouth.   She was a little concerned that I was getting the rest of the my teeth yanked out.   Much to my relief (and probably Dr. Benjamin and his staff as well), she was a perfect angel!   

When Dr. Benjamin came in with the two small dental appliances in his hand I hadn't realized I was holding my breath, and once again had a death grip on the examination chair. A few minutes, some deep breaths and a couple of minor tweaks here and there and it was time to place the appliances in my mouth.  Once they were in, he handed me a mirror.   I took a deep breath in and then...SMILED!  Really and truly smiled for the first time in over a decade.

All I could say was, "Wow!" over and over again.  I was getting used to the feel of the Essix appliance (I finally remembered what it was called) and amazed at the difference in my smile and mouth.  I couldn't think of anything else to say.  Eventually I shut up long enough to listen to Dr. Benjamin explain to me the next step in the process as the Essix is only temporary.  There will be another, longer term temporary fix that will be in place probably by October and last until May of next year depending on some things I may have going on, and then next summer I will have the permanent dental implants put in place.

So, wanna see the smile...the whole smile?   I kinda thought you would.  Here's the before shot from Part I...

 

Here is the "after" as of 11AM this morning...

 

 

 

I have been smiling for the entire afternoon...probably even when I joined Gaby in an afternoon nap.  Hell, I even smiled while cleaning up multiple piles of cat puke.  Griffy is a pro at retaliatory vomiting and when I didn't get him his food fast enough this afternoon he made several little messes for me to clean up.  Big deal Griffenstein!  You completely annoy me sometimes but not even today can you wipe off the smile on my face.  Don't let all that dry-heaving fool you...you might be a pro at pissing me off, but even your furry, infuriating self will not get me to stop smiling.  Not today anyhow.

Dr. Benjamin, thank you so much for helping me find my smile again.  You've made this such a pleasant process and I am so very pleased with the results!

Here's to lots more smiles!

 

The Re-Birth of My Smile: Part I

Some people are envious of the cars others drive, some are envious of larger more opulent homes with expansive lush green lawns and fantastic views,  while others covet designer shoes and clothing.  With me, it's teeth.  White, straight, shiny teeth.  OK OK, I do covet Volvos.  Older Volvos and a certain small, sleek, absolutely sweet little number that a glittery, glammed up vampire drives in one of those Twilight movies.  But in all seriousness, I am envious of people with nice teeth.  

I love teeth.  Straight, white teeth is where it's at for me.   I have a bad case of teeth-envy. I want one of those smiles where, when I flash it at people, a little shiny star flashes off the corner of a tooth and you hear a slight "dingly tinkling" in the background.  Am I silly?  Maybe.  Do I want beautiful teeth?  YES!

My own teeth would be pretty awesome if it weren't for the huge fact that a few of them are missing.  It's something I go to great lengths to hide and cover up.   Due to some trauma from my past I've had to have three of my upper teeth removed and they are in very visible spots.  I have not really and truly smiled in over ten years.   This is hard for me to admit because, like I said, I go to great lengths to make sure no one notices it.   I've already got a huge strike against me with my weight -  which is impossible to hide, and therefore I worry a great deal over what people think when they notice I have these whacking great gaps in my teeth.

Ironically enough, I'm just getting back to the point where I want to smile again...genuinely smile!  I'm so proud for being able to keep myself from slipping back into the near-suicidal depression I have been suffering from since The Very Bad Thing happened, and while I'm not through the tunnel yet, that light at the end of it it getting bigger and brighter and I can start to feel the warmth from that light on my face!  So it's a little bittersweet that my smile doesn't reflect the inner knowledge that I am indeed surviving my own personal tour of Hell that I've been on.

Restorative dental work is prohibitively expensive...mine is going to cost upwards of $10,000 to complete.  So I haven't really pursued having it done because I've yet to discover the money tree that my 4 year old daughter insists is growing right outside our front door.

Most of you know that I have a couple of potentially big things coming up in my life (one thing I will be able to share with you - just as soon as I receive the word from my contact that I can open the flood gates!) and it has been suggested to me by a certain someone that I might want to see about having my teeth "seen to."  Ha!  Easier said than done.   I'll be honest though and tell you that this has been a constant source of worry for me for a couple of months now - more so than usual - simply because of some things I have going on right now.  I confided in some close friends that I was worried that my teeth were going to keep me from realizing certain dreams. 

I have also shared with those who are close to me, my extreme fear and apprehension of dental work in general.  Those of you who avoid seeing your dentist regularly know what I'm talking about.   When I'm lying back against the cool leather (or pleather, or vinyl, or even plastic in some cases) of a dentist's chair, in that prone position, I obsess over what the hygienist and dentist are thinking about me and right about the time I think I'm at the apex of fear, that's when they come at me with that MONSTER hypodermic needle!  Are you breaking out in a cold sweat yet?  I have a huge knot in my stomach just thinking about it!

Unbeknownst to me, a couple of my closest friends got together and searched for an esthetic dental professional in my area and then once they did some research into this dentist, they phoned and made an appointment for me with Dr. Gerald Benjamin, D.D.S, P.C.  I knew very little about it before hand other than that appointment had been made and that come Hell or high water, I would be there!

Because I'm all about being bluntly honest out here, against my better judgment, here is a photo I took of myself before I left for my appointment with Dr. Benjamin on Thursday afternoon.  You can clearly see my teeth...or um, lack thereof.  On your right, there's a huge gap where two teeth should be.  You can't see it in this picture, but on your left, there is another smaller space, further in the back where another tooth has had to be removed.

 

I waffled and wavered and tried to come up with any excuse to not go to the appointment.  For one, I already know that what I need to have done is costly and I am unable to afford so much as a cleaning treatment right now (dental insurance sucks!).  Again, I was sure I was going to be met with judgment and little more than Dr. Benjamin telling me something along the lines of, "Well, yep, you need implants and those are gonna cost you, dearly!"  I had heard of something called a "dental flipper" but wasn't sure that was a good option for me, even only temporarily. 

I hadn't visited his web site before (people, he even has a blog!) my appointment and really didn't know much about him except what I was told by my friends - who, in all honesty, told me little more than, "Get your butt to the appointment, no arguments, no excuses!" 

I walked into the comfortably furnished office of Dr. Benjamin and was immediately greeted by a very lovely receptionist with a warm smile and friendly attitude and nice teeth.  See, I'm always looking at the teeth.  Especially in dental offices. 

Have you ever noticed how dental offices all smell the same?  There is a particular antiseptic/minty/medicinal smell that almost all dental offices have. It's not a bad smell, it's just that smell.  After I sat down, the smell hit me and the butterflies in my stomach immediately started up their three-ring circus!  Right about then, the dental assistant/hygienist came out and told me I could go back into the examination room.   She immediately put me at ease with gentle reassurances and her very comforting nature.

I walked into the examination room and saw the chair.  Looked over at the tray and then up at the light that is always present above the examination chair and was pretty sure I was either going to pass out, or throw up...possibly both! Thankfully the examination chair was right there and I pretty much collapsed into it.   The little dental drape was placed around my neck and then slowly and a little cautiously, Dr. Benjamin appeared in the doorway with a beguiling and comforting smile on his face.  He reassured me that everything was going to be alright and then asked me if he could look inside my mouth.  "Oh, here goes nothing!" I thought to myself as I opened my mouth and he began to look around.

Dr. Benjamin gently probed the inside of my mouth and said, "Oh this isn't bad at all.  Not too bad.  We can fix this permanently, in time, when you're ready, and I'm positive we can help you out with a temporary solution until you're ready to move forward with the implants."

I felt my chest loosen up just a little bit and I relaxed my death grip on the arms of the chair, just a little.   I spoke to both the hygienist and Dr. Benjamin for a few moments, vaguely, about what was going on in my life, and told them how determined I was to make the life-altering changes I so desperately need to make in order to make the life I see in my dreams, a reality, but that I was afraid that my dental situation was holding me back.   Dr. Benjamin asked me if I was really and truly determined and then when I told him I was, he shared with me his own story of sheer determination.  I was blown away by what he told me, and instantly moved but more importantly, was inspired.  I don't have his permission to share this story with you, but I'm hoping that some day I can.

Dr. Benjamin explained to me that while a dental flipper was one temporary solution for the missing teeth it wouldn't be one that I would like or that he thought was suitable.  It would change the way I spoke, potentially be uncomfortable and was not very sturdy.   He told me about another appliance that he felt would be a better option for me and that it could be fitted and in, in less than a week.  We talked a little about the cost of the appliance, while not inexpensive, is was within our very tight budget.   Then he asked me something that almost made my heart stop.  "What is your gag reflex like?"  I wanted to tell him that just hearing the term, "gag reflex" makes me gag, but instead I told him that I have an incredibly sensitive gag reflex.   He explained that he was going to take some molds of my mouth and then his assistant told me she'd help me get through it with some relaxation techniques.

He took two complete molds of my mouth and amazingly enough, I didn't come close to gagging!  I've never had dental impressions taken before and I found the whole thing a little odd, but not unpleasant in the least.  It goes without saying, I didn't gag once, a fact for which I'm extremely grateful for!

As I rinsed a few little bits of the molding mixture out of my mouth, Dr. Benjamin explained to me more about this appliance (and for some reason I can't recall the exact name of it), how it would fit into my mouth and be the best option for me until I can get the implants placed.   I told him that I had been using an at-home whitening system which made my teeth really sensitive but I thought was working.  He told me that my teeth looked pretty good and with a couple of fillings and the implants, I should be good to go.

Do you know how relieved I was to hear that?  I was sure that I was going to be told that my teeth were so far gone that the next stop for me was a seat on the Polident Express to Denturville.  I've had constant nightmares about being a public speaker and then in the middle of saying something, my teeth would come flying out of my mouth and land in someone's lap.   I constantly dream of flossing my teeth and then having my teeth all come out, attached to the floss, like some kind of morbid necklace.

I sat there for a moment, once I was done rinsing and spitting (why can I never manage to spit in the basin, even though it's right there under my chin, without getting half of it all over my face and down my chin?), and took a deep breath and completely relaxed.  I hadn't realized just how tense I was until I did this.  I felt completely at ease around Dr. Benjamin and his staff and at that moment was so grateful for this caring and compassionate professional.

I'm also so very thankful for my close friends that took the time to research dental professionals in my area, make the phone calls and from the looks of it, explain my situation.   This is not something I would have undertaken on my own because I just felt like it was not within my reach and that I was not worth it.  Thank you so much for this push in the right direction. I love you guys!

I've let my fear and apprehension, not to mention - our financial situation, dictate whether or not I even let someone so much as just look at my teeth and tell me whether or not there was something temporary that could be put in place until I was in a better position to have the permanent restoration completed.  It was yet another example of how I've let my feelings of no self-worth rule how I live my life.  Now that I know there is something and that I have a chance to see my smile, my real smile - one that reaches my eyes, not just the corners of my mouth; I can't begin to tell you how ecstatic I am.  The only thing that makes me every more excited than I am right now is that in a few days time, I'll be able to see what I will eventually look like when my dental restoration is complete.   I'm so very happy that in between now and then, there is a temporary solution that will allow me to smile - and really mean it...something I've rarely done in more than a decade, and I'm so appreciative to be under the care of such a compassionate and gifted dental professional; Dr. Benjamin.

Stay tuned for Part II...I'll reveal what my smile looks like with the new appliance in place!

ETA:  I was in no way compensated for this post, nor did I receive treatment in exchange for my opinion of services rendered.  I am just that completely happy with the wonderful care I received from Dr. Benjamin!