Memoirs of a Fat Girl

Dear celebrities of the world,

If you are famous and you have become fat, can you please tell me how that happened?

It’s an anomaly, and I really don’t understand it. You have money, LOTS of money, to keep you svelte, stunning, and in tip-top shape.

You have money for people. You have money for trainers, money to buy Richard Simmons in fact, to keep you worked out. You have money for chefs, money to imprison Wolfgang Puck to be your gourmet bitch and prepare your bok choy in 2875 different ways so that it’s tasty from every conceivable angle. If you’re too lazy to get any food yourself, you have the money to bring it to you.

You have money for nutritionists, dietitians, swimming pools, spectacular home gyms. You have money to pay Mr. Universe to carry you to the treadmill if you’re too lazy to get out of bed, and money for Rodney Yee to personally show you the correct positioning of downward dog.

If you’re too busy to plan your diet, you have money for assistants to do that for you. You have money to station Rottweilers beside your fridge to chase away the midnight munchies. You have money for your very own drill sergeant to follow you everywhere, making sure nothing tainted touches your lips.

Heck, if you even go so far as to think regular, run-of-the-mill food isn’t good enough, then you have money to buy your own organic farms, complete with organic farmers and pretty brown hobby cows.

And, if all else fails, if you don’t have the willpower to make all of the above work or, if none of it works for you then you have the money to go under the knife, the very best cosmetic surgery knives on earth to nip, tuck, suck, slice and fold you to outstandingness.

I know that fat & fat loss is just as much an emotional issue as it is a physical one but my point is, you are blessed with ridiculous salaries. You have the gerbillions of dollars that make what’s really hard for the rest of us, that much easier for all of you. With that said, is there really any excuse?

Many of you will be tempted to scoff and that’s fine, but take a look at this quote by one of your very own:

"How can women be as thin as we are? We have personal trainers to work us out. We have specially prepared meals." – Sarah Michelle Gellar

While I’m on topic I have another question for the fat celebrities of the world, or at least that handful of overweight, fat-advocating glitterati who all of a sudden drop a landslide of pounds: if being fat is so great, why are you now thin?

I saw Carnie Wilson of Wilson Phillips fame on a talk show once doing a “Big is Beautiful” schpiel. Big women are gorgeous too. Big women deserve love too. Big women love sex too.

A few years later, her gastric bypass surgery was broadcast live on the internet. Now she’s just a teeny little thing.

I remember once reading a feature article on Sharon Stone after she went up a few sizes. Being more rounded out was fabulous, she said, because now she could eat more and be comfortable with it. She could make gigantic bowls of pasta, stick two forks in and share it with her husband. Skinny girls only look good in bikinis, she said, and who cares anyway because you only wear bikinis at the beach.

Enter Basic Instinct 2, and Catherine Trammell is as bony as she ever was.

I don’t care if you’re fat or thin or go up and down on the scale for the rest of your lives, but how can you go out in public with these holier-than-thou attitudes, then do the exact opposite? It’s not very respecting.

How ironic then that Camryn Manheim, the last actress you’d expect to be self-satisfied, should hold up her 1998 Emmy and proudly proclaim, “This is for all the fat girls!”

It is a refreshing reality, especially since she’s put into practice what so many of us are in denial over, that life isn’t about being thin, it’s about being happy. Happiness isn’t about being fat or thin, it’s about being yourself.

And so to those of you who have healthily maintained your figures, whatever size they may be, and glow in the skin you were given, I praise you. You set a wonderful example for the rest of us.

To the yo-yo dieters and champions of cellulite that’s actually being cut out next week, what can I say? You may be untouchable, but on some levels it’s nice to see you’re still human. And, if you’re not appreciating Wolfgang Puck preparing your bok choy in 2875 different ways then by all means, send him over. I could always use my own personal gourmet bitch.