The Biggest Liar…

On Saturday I might I watched The Biggest Loser. I didn’t really want to, I knew it would infuriate me and I was correct.

I never watched The Biggest Loser when it was showing. Not because I knew better, at the time I was very much steeped in diet culture & self loathing. It just wasn’t available on whatever tv channels I had at the time. So, for me, this was the first time seeing clips of the show. I felt rage, sadness and an overwhelming urge to intervene. The abuse those people were subjected to is appalling. Sadly I remember how commonplace that was at the time. I completely understand why the contestants signed up for this public humiliation.

For me, the documentary went way too easy on those involved in creating this programme. Right off the bat, Bob Harper (one of the show trainers) claims that he regrets nothing he did on The Biggest Loser. No one takes any real responsibility for the fact that they caused real and lasting harm. The film makers allow the producers, trainers and show Dr to dodge accountability with pathetic excuses. I felt that the documentary ultimately reinforced the message of the show; the ends justify the means.

The creators of The Biggest Loser (BL) admit that they purposely used sensationalist tactics to attract attention. They knew the connotations of the name and played on it. They wanted people to tune in thinking they could judge these ‘fat losers’. They encouraged the trainers to be outrageous, they wanted contestants to throw up, cry etc. They knew the vile ‘challenges’ were cruel and unnecessary, but it made good television. They excused this exploitation by claiming that they were improving people’s health. In other words, all was acceptable in the name of thin. Everyone involved knew they were hurting people. Dr Robert Huizenga, the programme’s medical advisor told them so. He claimed that he regularly met with the trainers to explain his recommendations. He also admitted he was aware that they ignored him; they cut the calorific intake to dangerous levels and over trained people to the point of injury. Dr Huizenga tries to paint himself as caring medical professional who was helpless in his attempts to prevent harm. In reality he had a duty of care, he should have left the show and reported the dangerous practices. He could have stopped taking their money and spoken out at any time. He didn’t, he continued to profit from damaging fat people. Not only the people on the show, but all fat people who were impacted by the message of the BL.

That gist of that message was that fat people are lazy and gross. The ‘temptation’ challenges reinforced the idea that fat people can’t control themselves. The cruelty of those challenges is ignored in the discussion, the participants were forced to choose between gorging on ‘junk food’ or missing visits with their families. The footage included in the documentary shows participants crying whilst eating pizza slices; their suffering was entertainment. The show revelled in degrading the fat competitors. Tasks that made them build food towers with their mouths, trainers screaming, participants set against each other. Placing people on extreme diets, working them past exhaustion daily and then capturing their disputes and meltdowns on camera is repulsive. Worse still is the soul destroying message the trainers rammed home. Once the abuse was concluded they would tell participants that it was for their own good. I only shouted because I care about you, I knew you could do it, I didn’t want you to give up. Then the nail in the coffin, ‘don’t make me have to do that again’. The lesson to the participants and the viewing public? This is your fault. It’s your fault you are fat. It’s your fault you don’t apply yourself. It’s your fault that I had to abuse you.

All of this aside, the BL’s main claim, that they were improving lives, was obviously not true. Even if weight loss was a magic cure all, their process was clearly unsustainable. No one can live on 600-800 calories p/d forever. People with jobs, families and lives cannot train for 8hrs a day, everyday. It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that as soon as participants return to their regular life, they will gain weight. I have partaken in enough crash dieting to know how quickly the weight returns. One of the former contestants in the documentary talked of how he asked the BL to set up aftercare and was denied. Other contestants reached out to seek help for injuries sustained on the show and were ignored. Cut to a producer explaining that they didn’t have the budget for aftercare. Plus he didn’t think it was their responsibility. They were making a tv show; what happened after wasn’t their business. Meanwhile we learn the BL franchise earned billions. They licensed their name to every product you can imagine. Further exploiting vulnerable people desperate to lose weight. It was a cash grab and fat people were paying for it.

The only entirely critical voice in the documentary is fat activist, Aubrey Gordon. Her contributions are insightful and impactful. Alas, there was not nearly enough of her. Even the former BL contestants who were critical of the show were still heartbreakingly steeped in fat phobia. They were still seeking weight loss, still blaming themselves and still felt they weren’t good enough. The evidence of the consequence of extreme dieting was somewhat skimmed over. Studies on broken metabolism, life threatening conditions and even Bob Harper’s heart attack are treated as incidental. They place no importance on the fact that a man who adhered to the supposed ideal diet and lifestyle had a massive heart attack at 52. As if that information doesn’t disprove the central argument of The Biggest Loser.

The documentary concluded with more diet culture propaganda. They give obesity stats without ever mentioning that those numbers are based on BMI. A measurement that has been conclusively proven to be inaccurate. It’s a non scientific, racist scale. The documentary makers allow the show creators, trainers and Dr to claim good intent and even positive results. Their hearts were in the right place, they say. They made some people thin. Damn the ramifications. After all, anything is better fat.

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Another year over & what have we done…

No doubt everywhere you look you’re seeing lists of achievements, New Year’s resolutions and diet talk. Of course, I am here to interrupt all that bullshit.

For starters, you are not required to have a list of great successes. Some years are a hard slog. We all have different obstacles. For that matter we also have different goals and aspirations. Some folk are happy with their status quo and that is perfectly fine. If you’re worrying about your wins not being big or plentiful enough, please don’t. You made it & that’s enough. I don’t care if you didn’t get a big promotion or a new house, you did do every single day. You took care of yourself (& anyone else you’re responsible for), you paid the bills & made the dinners. You were also there for people in your life, you celebrated birthdays and talked through tough times. You are important, you matter in your everyday life. In the words of Self Esteem, ‘all the days you get to have are big days’. So congratulations, you have completed another turn around the sun. I’m certain you’ve had more impact than you know.

Let’s move along to the resolutions. If there are things you want to do by all means set a goal, make a plan. However, you are not obligated to change or become ‘better’ just because we entered a new year. Chances are you already have a whole heap of stuff piled on your plate. Perhaps you’re struggling to digest all that last year brought. Or maybe you’re half through a project or plan. It’s all good. Jan 1st doesn’t really signify anything. Just keep going.

Finally we come to my most disliked new year pressure; weight loss. You are going to be with adverts, influencers and people in your life telling you about their diet. Everyone will have the answer. This new medication, plan, supplement is the real thing. Let me save you a lot of trouble, it’s all crap. It’s the same thing repackaged and trying to convince you it is the answer to all your problems. Diets don’t work. Deep down we all know that. The vast majority of people regain anything shed via intentional weight loss. In fact, most of us add a bit extra too. What’s more, making your body smaller doesn’t fix anything inside you. It’s not a magic wand. In case you don’t hear it anywhere else, I’m going to say it; your worth is not tied to your weight.

You can live your life right now. Shrinking your body is not required. You do not have to for indulging over the festive season. Nor do you have to put anything on hold until you are smaller. Health and weight loss are not the same thing.

In short, you are enough. I hope you feel that and take it into 2025.

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The smallest man who ever lived…

I’m feeling like I shouldn’t have titled my last post Crazy Little World since it just got a whole lot crazier. The US election results hit me hard. I really struggle to reconcile the fact that so many people actively support that dangerous, hateful man.

I feel scared for the world. I am terrified for the many real people who will be hurt by another Trump presidency. The trend of politics sliding to right horrifies me. I don’t understand why people are so easily conned into hating groups who have done them no harm.

I despair at the inadequacy of our own government. Keir Starmer’s refusal to take action to protect Palestinians, but eagerness to congratulate Trump is cowardly. Under his leadership Labour have become unrecognisable. Their failure to protect the vulnerable in our society is unforgivable. I fear that inaction will lead to a loss at the next general election and throw us back under Tory rule. So far Labour have not done much to offer me hope.

It’s a frightening landscape that I want to improve. The scale of our situation feels overwhelming. Just telling people to vote feels far from sufficient. The truth is I don’t have the answers, I don’t know who does. The best I can do is stay engaged; I will continue to vote at every level, I will protest, sign petitions, get my hands dirty where possible. Right now I feel like supporting organisations who can help those in jeopardy is paramount.

Reproductive rights are under threat. People are dying because they cannot access the medical care they require during pregnancy. Extremist groups based in the US are trying to make inroads into other countries. If you want to keep access to abortion legal/decriminalise it and help people get pregnant people the care they need you can support one of these organisations.

The National Network of Abortion Funds

BPAS

Abortion Rights Scotland

The situation in Palestine continues to grow worse. Israeli aggression remains unrestrained. Cities have been destroyed. People are fighting warfare, starvation & disease to stay alive. A genocide is taking place, if you can please support one of these fundraisers.

Get Haitham’s family to safety.

Hands for Humanity

Medical Aid for Palestine

Although the UK is a relatively rich country, people will suffer this winter. Shelter, food and heat will be a scarcity for many. Please consider giving your support to one of these organisations.

Shelter Scotland

Trussel Trust

Refuweegee

She’s the shape of a cigarette…

I hear tell that the ‘skinny trend’ is back. With it a theory that is not new, but is perhaps just occurring to some. Namely, that when women begin to believe in their power skinny returns to divert & exhaust our energies.

I don’t disagree entirely. The preoccupation with the size and appearance of women is certainly rooted in control. As Naomi Wolf wrote ‘a culture fixated on female thinness is not an obsession about female beauty, but an obsession about female obedience’. Now, of course we can add the money to be made from convincing vast swathes of the population that they must lose weight. So, yes, thin is a tool to distract and diminish. The rest of the story is, it never goes away.

As a fat woman I know that skinny is never a trend. Thin has been the beauty standard my entire life. The degree of thinness may change, but fat is never the societal goal. The body positive movement has certainly made strides, but we are far from the majority opinion. As fat voices began to break through the message was quickly diluted. Brands adopted body liberation for cache without actually using diverse models or really extending their sizes. An hour glass white women with a flat stomach in a size 18 is not fat representation. Likewise, all the straight sized chicks contorting their bodies to create a fat roll is not #bopo. Meanwhile actual fat bodies are censored on social media. We aren’t even permitted to be centred in our own movement. Which makes it difficult for me to see when thin wasn’t in.

I was a teen in 90’s. I lived through heroin chic and I’m not convinced it felt substantially different to any other point in my timeline. I was slim then, but I never felt small enough. A feeling that stayed with me throughout my various size incarnations until my 30’s. I have observed no change in weight stigma over that time. The consensus has always been that fat is unhealthy & unattractive. Skinny has been the ideal whether Kate Moss or Kim Kardashian was reigning supreme.

No one is changing their diet or taking supplements to gain fat. There have never been articles in magazines advising how to quickly get a belly. Fat women have always faced discrimination across the board. We were & remain pilloried in media and life. A slight shift in the type of thin body most desired is not substantive. It is the same control, in a moderately tweaked package.

The real difference is perspective. If you have the privilege of living in a societally accepted body, the return of super skinny feels like a threat. Now you’re going to be pressured to shrink. You will see your image represented less. In short, you’re going to notice. Personally it makes no difference if the ideal is size 0 or size 12. I’m always too big. I will always be perceived negatively by many people. I don’t relish the return of a romanticised gaunt aesthetic. I’m just saying what all fat women know, the skinny trend is perpetual.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

No one wants your opinion…

The internet is wonderful. It provides so many opportunities to learn, connect, help. It’s entertaining. I use it every damn day, but there’s always a catch.

Join me as I let off a little steam about that catch. Let’s begin with the old foe; men. There are so many men with oh so many opinions online. There’s the reply guy who must say something. The sleazy guys who just have to objectify every female presenting person they scroll upon. The scammers who think every woman becomes an idiot when contacted by surgeon, soldier or pilot. The obsequious guys & the ‘I want to be your sugar daddy’ guys. Last but not least annoying are the gotta throw inane insults at fat women guys. They’re all tedious. I don’t want creepy compliments or offers. I couldn’t care less what some random man thinks about my body or anything else. Stop assuming that you can impose your thoughts on strangers. I am not flattered by your compliments or interested in your preferences. What I am is disgusted, tired and sometimes fucking angry.

Less toxic, but the irritation factor remains high with the tarot, spiritualist, astrology charlatans. Every one of my social media inboxes are jammed with ‘offers’. Just send my DOB, mother’s maiden name & first pet’s name for a free expert reading. Even if I were stupid enough to fall for that con I still wouldn’t believe in any of the tripe they are preaching. I’m also smart enough not to use any of the requested info as security questions. I’d bet most of the population are equally savvy. Stop bothering me. I resent the minutes and finger taps I exert to block you.

Given our fast approaching election, politics loom large. That’s fine with me, I’ve always been political and the Tories need to go. My complaint is two fold. Firstly, the gammon. The folk who get all their information from GB News & use that propaganda to legitimise their hateful beliefs. As hard as I try I can’t not be angry when I see comments spouting vile and untrue hyperbole. I despise how many people have so eagerly adopted the most hateful far right rhetoric. I could not be more sick of seeing it every day. Secondly, I despair that the parliamentary Labour Party has abandoned its soul. Keir Starmer is barely discernible from the incumbents. We deserve better. 13yrs of Conservative rule has ravaged this country. People are suffering and they should have a real alternative.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Not Sorry…

Every now again I use the blog to vent my anger. Well, it’s that time again. The world is brimming over with things to be mad & sad about. These are just a few that I need to get off my chest.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when brands jump on the fat positivity train for their own benefit without actually incorporating real size diversity. The most recent culprit being Marc Jacobs. The advert for the perfume, Perfect is an ode to diversity. It features a wide variety of models including a couple of plus size women. Great right? Well it would be if the Marc Jacobs ready to wear line didn’t stop at a UK16. I doubt either of the models featured in the ad would be able to shop the line.

Also on my mind at the moment is when celebs reveal themselves to be shits & ruin one’s favourites. Brought to mind when I couldn’t sleep & was searching for something soothing to watch. Lewis popped up in one of my streaming apps. I loved Inspector Morse & was delighted when his sergeant returned. However, a once comforting programme is now spoiled by Laurence Fox’s gammon exploits. No matter how lovely Lewis & Hathaway are, I can’t enjoy them without thinking about Fox’s racism, misogyny & all out far right vileness. Other notable examples include anything with Tom Cruise, Mel Gibson’s presence in the Lethal Weapons & of course Gary Barlow destroying my love of Take That.

Finally & most rage inducing is Keir Starmer. From his refusal to support Trade Unions to his abandonment of Palestine, Starmer is a spineless wannabe Tory. Under his leadership Labour is no longer the party of working people. Who thought we would see an ex human rights lawyer turned Labour leader cowardly defend war crimes on national television? Not me. The man is disgusting.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon

Come to the Cabaret…

This month I am flinging my financial support behind a group that have long had all my other support. Cabaret Against Hate are an LGBTQ+ & ally group who organise counter protests to stand against hate speech in Scotland.

They combat hate with live music, song & dance. Their presence at anti abortion & anti trans protests has had incredibly positive effect. It is essential to provide an opposition to intolerance. It’s equally vital to show support to those impacted by these hideous protests. I would love to be on the front lines with Cabaret, but my disabilities prevent me. Thus I have been sharing & supporting in whatever ways I can.

The group are currently fundraising for a new PA System. Please donate here if you can.

Get it together…

Before I embark on the finale there are some things I need to get off my chest. Of course I am talking And Just Like That (AJLT). This second series is determined to piss us all of. Let’s get into it.

We can start with the open goal that was Lisa’s pregnancy story. They had the perfect opportunity to show an accurate portrayal of abortion. According to stats for the USA, the majority of those seeking abortions are already mothers. Instead of having a real conversation about her needs & options, they chose a brief exchange devoid of anyone actually saying the word abortion. The wrapped it up with the usual tv cop out of her having a miscarriage. Given the current attacks on reproductive rights I think this was a cowardly decision. More than ever we need honest, unashamed representation. A show like AJLT should be a natural place to do that.

On the flip side, I loved Charlotte’s drunken outburst. This highlighted an experience many mothers have. Almost every married Mother I know takes on more of the family labour than her partner. The constant need to be on top of every detail of everyone’s life is exhausting. Charlotte’s frustration was warranted & I am so glad she decided to let them have it. Letting Richard Burton into the room after slamming the door was the icing on the cake. As for Rock & their notebook; I’d have been firmly in the suck it up camp.

Now we come to the bit that got my blood pressure soaring. Che. What the fuck was that? Their stand up was woeful. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t remotely truthful. It had gross gatekeeping undertones & it was cruel. They enthusiastically pursued Miranda with their eyes wide open. Miranda’s boundaries & needs were repeatedly ignored. Che was happy as Larry until their career & ego took a knock. Their self pitying ‘this is who I am’ rant was epically unlikeable. Who you are is an arsehole. Enjoy.

While we’re on the subject, what the hell was Carrie playing at? Her arse should have been up & out that door seconds in. A real friend would have grabbed Miranda’s hand and taken her home. Further more Che’s dinner invite should have been immediately rescinded. If anyone dared to speak to my friend in that manner, never mind so publicly, they’d be feeling my wrath.

Aidan, Carrie & Miranda are sitting in a dark room with blue lighting.

Carrie did slightly mitigate her ‘mistake’ bullshit when she talked about her marriage with Charlotte’s boss. Man alive, though, she’s getting on my wick. Her relationship with Aidan is exactly what it always was. He continues to passive aggressively let her know she will never be entirely forgiven. His ex pops up to protect him, her beloved apartment has to go and all the while I’m screaming STOP. Obviously trouble was looming and it comes with the worst crying scene I have ever witnessed. Seriously, that was some bad acting. I

Aidan is crying in the front seat of a car.

How will it all end? We know there will be a Samantha cameo. I can only hope she talks some sense into everyone.

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Take it or Leave it…

Recently I had what turned out to be naive idea. I was thinking about how I should be getting out more, break out of my routine, stop missing cool things I wanted to see. All good thoughts. Then I got cocky. I thought, hey, maybe I should meet some new people too. Bad thought.

I decided it might be fun to combine fun dating with interesting happenings. Of course I was entirely forgetting how low my tolerance levels are. So, what’s a girl to do? Write about it of course.

Date 1

We’ll call him Grey. Started off very well. We chatted a little online, he was engaging & intelligent. We shared plenty of interests. It didn’t hurt that Grey was handsome in exactly the way I like. When he suggested we check out Books at The Botanic I thought, this guy has potential. Then I spent an hour browsing books with a man who had clearly consumed some toxic pick up guy content. Every title I picked was beneath him. He commented on how surprised he was that I would enjoy ‘typically girlie stuff’ like Jane Austen. There were a couple of jokes about my never having been married. When he wondered if I could ‘strengthen’ my arthritic knees if I didn’t use my walking stick all the time I was done. No man is handsome enough to get away with such patronising bullshit.

Antique green leather bound Jane Austen Novels

Date 2

Cute & quirky, he seemed like fun. We had some enjoyable back & forth. Let’s call him Ha Ha. We met for sushi at a place he suggested. So, it was a surprise to me that he commented on the prices being too high. The chat was good, he was funny. It felt like we were both having fun. Lots of laughs led to cocktails and again, he wasn’t happy about the price tag. I was now officially uncomfortable. I get really embarrassed about this kind of thing. I don’t like to talk about money with people I don’t know well. Bitching about the price of a cocktail in a place you picked, gives me the ick. I drank my margarita & tried to think of a non awkward way to assure him I was happy to pay. I needn’t have bothered, on arrival of the bill he immediately started adding what he had consumed. I told him it was my treat and to ease any weirdness, that he could get the tip. I don’t mind picking up the tab. I could even have tried to get past the cringe. When I saw him placing a one pound coin tip on the table; I was out. That kind of cheapness is an absolute no.

Date 3 & 4

This one is a familiar story. I’m always very up front about my relationship wants. Marriage doesn’t feel like a thing I’m going to be a part of. I’m not even keen on the idea of living with someone. I enjoy my space, I like to make my own decisions. In short, I like my life. I’m in no rush to go turning it all upside down. I’m very much a ‘take it easy’ kind of girl. All of which was A OK with him. Until we hit that 2nd date. Say hello to Mr Fickle.

First date was cool. We went to a really nice tea place. The conversation flowed easily. He complimented more than my appearance. The man was interested and interesting. All good, I was down to see him again. The replay didn’t go so well. All of a sudden Mr Fickle wants to dig into how serious I am about not wanting to get married. He wants to assure me of what a great prospect he is. I keep diverting, but he brings us right back to topics that are not second date material. There wasn’t a third.

Date 5

This one was short and sweet. He’s a guy I briefly worked with a while ago. We’d stayed in touch via social media. He chatted me up a bit and I thought, why not? A query that was swiftly answered when he argued that those Jonah Hill texts were reasonable. I christened him Red Flag & made a sharp exit.

A row of red flags blowing in the wind.

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My week in pictures…

It’s been a busy week. I have had all the Auntie time and I love it. I spent fun time with all of my niblings. My oldest niece is on the other side of the world, so we had FaceTime. The others ran me ragged with carry on.

I combined two of my favourite things by taking the littles book shopping. They all found stories to their pleasing and gave me quite the round around (literally in some cases). I wore an old favourite all week. It’s so easy wear, I feel great in it and I really don’t care if you object to me wearing it four days in a row.

ly is standing in her living room with a hand on her hip. She is wearing a leopard print jumpsuit with open denim shirt.
Jumpsuit – Simply Be

On the subject of books, this week I have two on the go. I usually whizz through books, but I have been extra exhausted and finding myself conking out after one chapter. Thus, I haven’t finished either yet. How To Kill Your Family by Bella Mackie is a cool concept. I am enjoying it, but there aspects of the writing style that irk me a little. Overall, I would still recommend it. My other current read is Rebel Bodies by Sarah Graham. I am crazy excited about this and not just because I feature in it. It is an amazing examination of the gender gap in healthcare. Obviously an area of interest for me, but also a topic that is hugely important for all.

The kids have kept me busy, but I managed a little #projectpostit. If I’m I’m not getting much writing done I can at least spread a smidge of inspiration. Of course there is always time for dancing in my pants.

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