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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Birthday Bitch…

September is a bumper birthday month around here. My own slips in right at the end, so I am now 44yrs old. How did that happen?

Anyway, I think I’m doing ok for an old bird. On Sunday we had a big lunch with cake, presents and the whole shebang. Obviously I had to smash it with my outfit and I did! Perhaps you’re not supposed to blow your on trumpet, I do not care. I looked gooooood. You’d never guess I’m middle aged.

I’m feeling pretty strange about this whole mid 40’s thing. I don’t know how I got here so fast. I need someone to catch up the ly in my head. She still feels like her twenties were five minutes ago. Except they also feel a lifetime ago too. It’s very confusing in here. Reckoning with mortality and all the things that are behind me is tough. It’s just as well I’m such a hottie; takes the sting out of it.

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

The sweetest thing…

I think I have mentioned before that I have been cutting down on clothes buying. For starters I have way too many clothes. Also there are just huge ethical & environmental issues associated with the way we consume. Anyway, the result is that I have been paying more attention to what I already have & experimenting with those items.

Which brings me to my latest kick; layering sheers It started with rediscovering this amazing coffee coloured sheer dress. It is has been shamefully under worn. We a had a belated Father’s Day lunch last Sunday and I wanted to make an effort. I paired it with a rubenesque slip dress and felt exceptionally good wearing it.

ly is standing with her hands on her hips wearing a sheer coffee coloured dress.
Sheer Dress – Monki Print Dress – Pretty Little Thing

So good that I had to try it again. This time I dug out my black sheer dress. I slid a mustard sundress underneath and I was ready for Friday adventures. The polka dots on this dress make it extra adorable. Both are easy to wear, so I can look charming whilst feeling perfectly chill.

ly is leaning on her walking stick wearing a sheer black dress. She is standing in a life size Barbie doll box.
Sheer Dress – Monki Mustard Dress – Boohoo

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

Nails done…

What do I do when I feel crap all the time? My nails!

Absolutely love this deep red colour. I fell in love with Chanel Rouge Noir many years ago, but now go for the more ethical Barry M vegan polish. I love a bit of negative space on a manicure; it’s an easy way to accomplish a cool effect.

Two hands showing deep red and silver manicure

Last week I fancied some really bright cheery colours. This mani was fitting for Pride month. Unfortunately they didn’t survive long after a trip to the pool. Good whilst it lasted.

Two hands one with rainbow stripesd manicure, the other with rainbow polka dots

Finally, my attempt at impressionist type floral design. I don’t think I quite hit the water lily look, but they are lovely.

And talking of that trip to the pool, it was wonderful. My sister, my bestie and I took the little ones swimming. I am much more mobile in the water. I love being able to chase them and have a proper carry on. This time I was a shark, kraken and an octopus. Much fun was had. Outfit wise I went for cute and comfy. My beloved Pockets and Sedition palazzo pants*, slouchy tee and ‘sorry not sorry’ my old saggy boobs sans underwiring.

Fat white woman with walking stick is wearing palazzo pants and t shirt
Palazzo Pants – Pockets and Sedition
Tee – Primark
Glasses – Where Light

* Brand Ambassador. Not gifted or sponsored.

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One hand in my pocket…

Like many any other people I have been trying to cut down on my shopping. We’re all very aware of the impact fast fashion has on the environment. Paired with ethical issues and the fact that I simply have too many clothes it was just logical.

So, my plan was just to resist the urge to buy every cute thing I see and then leave many of them sitting in my spare room. Instead, I have been going through my multiple wardrobes & pulling out all the cool things that don’t see enough light. The things I have been buying have been from small ethical brands. These are of course more expensive, but they are also much more special.

All which brings me to Pockets and Sedition*. A small brand that creates handmade items with pockets! Their fabrics are amazing, they support worthy causes and the fit is perfect. My first order arrived this week and I am ecstatic.

Ly  is wearing blue marble palazzo pants and two different tops,  grey vest with black lace and cherub print strappy
Trousers – Pockets and Sedition
Cherub Top – Pretty Little Thing
Grey Vest – Primark

This marble print is the epic and these delights go with everything. I feel amazing in these palazzo pants. Plus, I can actually fit my essentials in these pockets! I am living the dream.

ly is wearing blue marble print trousers with two different tops, a coral pink crop top and great vest with a shark & the word harmless
Trousers – Pockets and Sedition
Crop Top – Primark
Vest – Primark

I expect I will be wearing these trousers a lot. I also suspect I will be purchasing more from this brand.

If you enjoy my content you can support me on Ko-Fi.

* Brand Ambassador. Not sponsored content.

It’s a no from me…

I am attempting to have a rest day, but my head is doing the anxious ‘doing nothing is not ok’ thing. So, in attempt to both rest my body and ease my mind I thought I’d do one of silly little blog rants. Come along if you fancy a vent.

Pores

Oh I know they have job a to do, but why do they need to be so troublesome? They always want to be making an appearance when I want them hidden. Constantly busying themselves with getting clogged. Try to take care of your skin with spf or a nice deep moisturiser and they will suck it up & make a big blemish. I just want soft smooth skin. Why must my pores always try to ruin it?

Horror Movies

They’re all about ghost or too disturbing to watch. Where are all the good old fashioned crazy killer films? Or even a well made creepy monster would do. Maybe I am just old, but it feels like the only scary movies I enjoy are from the 90’s. Is this how it starts? One day pop culture is annoying me and then next I’m saying ‘in my day’ to kids on the bus? Oh god, I hope not.

Stills from 90’s horror films

Fat Phobia

I’m always complaining about this. However, this week I’m pissed off about a particular kind of fat phobia. If you’ve seen that Tik Tok clip of Bethenny Frankel saying she hates plus sizes, you might get what I’m on about. She’s not saying she hates that brands are making xl, xxl and so on. What disturbs her is what they’re named. Why can’t we name them something nicer, she posits while entirely missing the point. The issue isn’t that fat people clothes come in extra, extra large; the problem is the that people still shy away from those terms. Large isn’t bad. Super large isn’t bad. No one is suggesting we find a cuter name for XS. Continuing in the belief that accepting fat people are fat is hurtful is not ‘body positive’. It’s just entrenching the stigma. Our bodies are bigger and that is ok. Everyone can see that I’m fat whether my label says 2xl or ‘bad bitch’. I will face the same stigma & barriers regardless. The point is, the size on your clothes doesn’t matter. It gives no information about a person other than the circumference of body parts. You’re not a fat ally of you don’t understand that.

Instagram Men

Not all of them obviously. Just the ones who think is it Tinder. Every day I get messages from men I do not know who think I exist for them to chat up. Or worse send repulsive, grammatically incorrect filth to. I honestly do not understand why they think it is ok. Nor why they think any woman is going to respond positively. There are sites designed for that shit. If you want to meet someone to date, download a dating app. The folk on there are interested in getting to know strangers. If you want to exchange explicit messages there are sites for that too. Having an Instagram account is not an invitation for any random man to crawl into my dm’s. If I don’t know you, leave me alone!

Man on a busy street holding a sign that Instagram is not a dating app

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