The Skinny on Self-Image

Everyone who knows me knows I’m no Audrey Hepburn, not by a long stretch. But I think I’m cute enough. Okay, so I’m fat. But I am not so fat that I get winded climbing the stairs to my office. I still have girly curves. And I haven’t had to be cut out of my house and taken to the hospital on a flatbed.

The other alternative? A human clothes hanger. And somehow, that’s OKAY with the media. It’s okay to fill the heads of impressionable and sensitive young girls with the notion that fat is bad and thin is good; the thinner, the better. The fact of the matter is that sex and sexy sells. It sells car, beer, bras, panties, pretzels, just about anything you can put a price on can be sold to someone just by parading a scantily clad model in front of it or draping her over it.

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