Tag Archives: A Big Girl Rant

It’s Too Small for You, Right? …right.

I walked into the nail salon on Saturday and the large bottle of water I drank on the way there caught up with me.

Something you should know about me is that I despise public restrooms, but my bladder is tiny so I’m forced to use them often. This has made me somewhat of a bathroom connoisseur. I’m the girl who asks her friends “how’s the bathroom?” before I go inside. When I’m interviewing for jobs, I judge companies on how their bathrooms are. (I truly believe that you can tell how much a company cares about its employees by the way their bathrooms are maintained) but I digress….

Anyway, having to use the ladies room at my nail salon is something I really try to avoid. I’ve had to use it a few times over the years and the bathroom is the size of a matchbox. Not to mention, it has no ventilation, so as public restrooms go… its my worst nightmare.

As my hands and feet finished drying, my bladder refused to be ignored. I pulled the paper from in between my toes and motioned to the salon owner “Um, can I use your restroom?”

“Sure, straight back…” she replied.

I made my way to the restroom, opened the door and was almost knocked unconscious by the most foul odor you can imagine. Someone had gone in that small windowless bathroom and done something ungodly in there. I quickly slammed the door, wiped the tears from my eyes and ran out covering my nose.

The owner looked at me, “the bathroom is too small for you, right?” she asked.

*blank stare*

I was 99.9% sure that the bathroom smell was the work of one of the nail technicians. I didn’t want to embarrass anyone, so I said nothing, but her assumption that I couldn’t fit into the bathroom was so annoying!

If you saw a skinny girl run out of the bathroom after two seconds covering her nose, would you assume it was because that bathroom was small? No… you’d probably think she was covering her nose because of, I don’t know… a bad smell, perhaps!

Of course, because I’m a Plus Size Princess, the only issue I’m allowed to have is “not fitting” inside of a bathroom.

Its just a reminder that some people really can’t see past my weight… augh!

I’m Not Hungry… No Really, I’m NOT Hungry!

It was 9pm on a Wednesday and I was standing in line at Fairway on east 86th street.

My skin was glistening and my clothes were clinging to my body with perspiration because I had just put in major work at the gym. In my cart was a roasted chicken, 4 apples, a bag of spinach, two bottles of seltzer water and a box of frozen fruit bars. As I stood in line I was giving myself a mental high five for 1.) a super intense workout and 2.) walking by the nutella without tossing a jar into my cart.

That’s when I saw her… a fairway worker swooping through the aisles with a tray of cookies. “Free cookies!” she called out as she weaved her way towards the registers explaining to the clerks that the bakery had extras and she just hated the idea of throwing them away.

Before I continue this story, let me give you a visual (for those of you who don’t live in NYC). Walking into a grocery store on the Upper East Side of Manhattan is like walking into a Lululemon commercial. The place is swarming with men in gym shorts and women in yoga pants and racerback tanktops and it would be safe to say that I was the biggest girl in the store.

Of course, I didn’t notice any of this until the woman with the big tray of cookies began to make her way down my line. With every step she took, she offered a cookie to the customers in line on either side of her… they all declined by holding up a hand or shaking their heads and she moved right along to the next person. Then she got to me.

“Cookie?”

“No thanks,” I reply.

“Oh c’mon… you know you want one!”

“I’m not hungry, really.”

“They’re freeeesh!” she says, then she takes the tray of cookies and waves them under my nose so that I can smell them.

“I just finished a really good workout, I don’t want to ruin it,” I say.

“I won’t tell anyone…” she whispers with a wink.

I step forward with the line as I get closer to the check out counter. The woman with the tray of cookies steps backwards so that she is still next to me. At this point some of the clerks are watching.

“Will you please tell your coworker to stop harassing me?” I say to them, half-joking.

“Yo! she said no…” one of them says.

Finally, the woman dances away, but I’m livid. She didn’t push anyone else in that line to have a cookie and when I told her that I’d worked out, she attempted to bond/conspire with me by sabotaging me.

One of the hardest things for a Plus Size Princess to do is turn down food. Not because we can’t say “no”, but because people don’t allow us to say no. If I order light on a date, I’m told by men not to “be shy”… if I take small portions at a barbecue someone will whisper Girl, I know you want more than that!! in my ear and now I’ve got chicks chasing me down in the grocery store to shove cookies down my throat.

I know it stems from different things for different people; the first ways men show they can provide is usually through lavish meals/wine/desserts. Some people want to make sure you’re comfortable “being yourself” and that you feel at home around them so they encourage you to overindulge at their functions.

The woman with the tray of cookies was different though– almost like that skinny pal who orders something “bad” when you go to dinner… asks if you want to share it, then takes two bites, announces she’s full and leaves you to finish the chocolate cake/french fries/creme brule by yourself. I want to look at people like that and ask… do you want me to stay fat? But I’m scared that the answer might be yes. I’m nervous that deep down they feel like the bigger I am, the smaller they are.

I hate to sound paranoid, but things like this keep happening… so I’m thinking it can’t be a coincidence. The only thing I can do is stay aware and not fall into the traps. Go home, eat my roasted chicken and veggies. Drink my seltzer and have a frozen fruit bar for dessert which is much better for me than a cookie.

…Thoughts?? Does stuff like this ever happen to you?

Plus Size Problems: Thigh Swoosh (Chub Rub Strikes Again)

Yesterday I was having a “cute day”.

I wore a frilly white blouse, tucked into a grey pleated skirt with a burgundy belt and my favorite suede heels pulling it all together. I also wore a pair of fishnet stockings which created the perfect flirty secretary style outfit.

At around 9:30, Robert called my extension, “I want to show you something, can you come by my desk?”

“Sure,” I said. I reapplied my lip gloss, ran my fingers through my hair and stood up from my desk. Dating a guy that works in my office makes having a “cute day” even more fun. As I made my way to his department on the other side of the building, I had a little pep in my step.

My heels click-click-clicked on the granite floors.

But between each click there was another noise… a SWOOSH.

click-SWOOSH-click-SWOOSH.

I stood still to stop the SWOOSH from echoing down the hallway.

I took a few more steps, slowly but the noise was just drawn out click-SWOOOOOOSH-click. My full thighs were betraying me once again with dreaded Chub-Rub!

I thought I had experienced all the Chub-Rub I could handle with my torn jeans and chaffed skin, but apparently, there’s more.  Outside in noisy New York City, the noise my thighs were made as they rubbed against each other was masked. But in the quiet halls of my office, the lycra in my tights was announcing my arrival by SWOOSHING loud enough to be heard before I even turned the corner to Roberts desk!

Normally, I would just turn the tights inside out like I do with my spanx, but with fishnets it doesn’t make a difference.

For the rest of the day I tried not to walk around too much, not to mention I had to cancel all of my secret ninja surprise attacks for the day (thanks Lori on fb for reminding me). Thigh Swoosh killed my swag a tiny bit, but once I got out of the quiet office, it wasn’t an issue anymore and I went back to having a “cute day”… Plus Size Problems!

Has this ever happened to you?

A Single Girl Rant: Stop Telling Your Boyfriend My Secrets!

As Robert and I continue to date, I’ve started thinking about the type of girlfriend I want to be. Not to him, but to my female friends. There are so many annoying things my friends do when they’re in relationships, but I don’t think they notice it because they’re not single. So in the spirit of last months Big Girl Rant, today I give you: A Single Girl Rant.

Because TBGB is such a personal blog, I didn’t tell very many people about it when I first started. As time went by, I decided to share it with three close friends. All three of these friends were in serious relationships and although I was very specific about not wanting everyone to know about and/or read my blog… all three of them told their boyfriends.

Of course, they told their boyfriends about TBGB because they were excited about it, proud of my writing and wanted to be the bearer of good news; but it wasn’t their news to tell. If I wanted their boyfriends to know what I was doing, I would have told them myself!

Sometimes I feel like people in relationships need to be reminded of a few things:

  • You are an individual!
  • You are my friend/confidant, your boyfriend is not
  • You are in a relationship with your boyfriend, but I am not
  • You may feel the need to tell your boyfriend everything, but I don’t
  • You may trust your boyfriend, but I don’t (I barely know him!)

It takes a lot to build a friendship. Trust, vulnerability and sharing aren’t things that happen over night. Those are things you earn, and sleeping with my friends isn’t a quick pass into my personal life.

Its frustrating because once I figured out that my friends were sharing things I asked them not to with their boyfriends, I suddenly had to reevaluate what I decided to share with them moving forward and that was awful. I had to accept the fact that things that used to be sacred, weren’t anymore.

The crazy part is, now that Robert and I are dating I find myself wanting to update him on my friends lives. I feel like such a hypocrite, but he knows a lot of them, has met their boyfriends and sometimes I want to mention things that are going on, but then I remind myself what it feels like. I know when my friends confide in me, they don’t expect things to go farther than me, and if course… I know how it feels.

I don’t know… maybe my expectations are too high and this is just what happens when people are in relationships.

Has this happened to you? What do you think?

Superficial Fat Chicks & Other Myths (A Big Girl Rant)

Two things happened to me last week that bothered me, I mean really bothered me. I’m going to give you the two scenarios and then I’m going to try my best to explain why I was so annoyed:

Thursday: My girlfriend Kayla invited me to have drinks with a few girls from her grad school program. We met up at a hotel bar for happy hour and Kayla, who just moved to New York from California, was asking us about New York Men. As we all shared our thoughts on men in the city that never sleeps. Suddenly, one of her friends paused the conversation, “wait a minute… Kayla, what kind of guys are you attracted to?”

Kayla laughed, “well, that’s the problem! The guys that have been approaching me since I moved here are not my type!”

“What’s your type?” I asked.

“I really prefer a guy that’s kind of… round, like… chubby,” she took a breath “the guys in New York obviously spend a lot of time in the gym, which is great. But, I like a guy with love handles!”

“Oh,” her friend stammered, “that’s not at all what expected you to say! That’s weird… you like chubby guys even though you’re like HOT!” then her friend looked at me “I mean– not that hot people can’t be attracted to chubby people– but, I dont know that’s interesting!”

Fast Forward to Sunday: I was catching up on my DVR and lo and behold there was a plus size Millionairess on Bravo’s Millionaire Matchmaker named Robin. If you didn’t see the episode, you should watch it. Robin is pretty clueless which makes for the kind of train wreck episode that you can’t stop watching. I’m not going to recap the entire episode but in a nutshell, Robin is only interested in dating someone that is super attractive. Common interests? A good heart? those things are not important to her. She just wants someone who looks like Matthew Mcconaughey.

When the “Matchmaker”, Patti, heard that Robin ( who’s easily a size 24) wanted to date someone who looked like Matthew Mcconaughey her reaction was to focus on how “superficial” Robin was and then to ask what made Robin think that she “deserved” a Matthew Mcconaughey look-alike.

*deep sigh*

After these two incidents, my mind has been swirling with “Why’s”. I’m going to try to organize them here, hopefully I make sense, here goes:

  • Why can’t a Plus Size Princess “deserve” an attractive guy? I would love to know the equation to find out who “deserves” who as a mate. The word “deserves” implies that attractive people are worth more as human beings, which is absurd. People are soooo much more than their looks! I believe that I deserve a guy with a good heart, winning personality who cares about me and if that guy happens to look like a Calvin Klein model and I don’t, that doesn’t mean I deserve him any more/less than the next girl. If you end up watching the episode, you’ll see that the most attractive guy in the room was not a good person! So, no one really deserved to be with him.
  • Why is it that the minute a plus size girl expresses ANY kind of physical desires in her mate, she’s considered superficial or shallow? I know that being overweight is considered by many to be the ultimate human offense, but… when a woman gains weight she doesn’t have to gain an “I’ll take what I can get” mentality. We all have things that turn us on/off and that’s okay. I’ll tell you what Plus Size Princesses do “deserve”: PSP’s deserve to be in a relationship where there is MUTUAL ATTRACTION. A fat girl with preferences is not “picky”, “shallow” or “superficial”.
  • Why was the idea of my friend Kayla (who is gorgeous, with the perfect hour glass shape) liking a chubby guy so outrageous? She didn’t say she liked serial killers, she said she liked love handles! Give me a break.
  • Why is it that even though I have strong opinions about this stuff… I’m still surprised when hot guys flirt with me at the gym?

Thoughts???

A Big Girl Rant: Its MY Body… MINE!

I was standing at the bus stop last Saturday wearing a new pair of jeans. As I glanced at my reflection in a store window, I realized that my new jeans were about a size too big and I needed to exchange them. As I thought about whether or not I still had the receipt a strangers voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Girl, stop looking at yourself in the window– you look fine!”

I looked over and a woman I’d never seen before in my life was staring at me, “YOU LOOK FINE!” she said again. I never know how to respond to strangers yelling at me, so I stayed quiet. Of course, she took my silence as permission to continue talking to me, “you look like you’ve lost a lot of weight, ‘cuz your jeans are REAL BAGGY in the leg area! GOOD FOR YOU!” she said, then she gave me a wave and crossed the street.

I think one of the most annoying things about being a bigger girl is that people think its okay to comment on my body. Men think its okay to say “Hey Big Girl!” instead of “Excuse me Miss…” Friends think they can grab your love handles or back rolls… I’ve had strangers stop to ask me what size I wore because they were “shopping for a friend” who’s around my size. I even had a coworker who would refer to me as “Big Sexy” all the time. Um… why couldn’t I just be “sexy”?

I can’t prove it, but I also think people touch me more because I’m big. I worked in retail during college and I found that customers were constantly reaching out and petting me, nudging me, etc. it was very strange.

Its almost as if because I take up more space than other girls, people think I’m suddenly public domain. I’m not!

Its MY Body… MINE!

Its Summer & I’m Single

Ever since the thermometer rose above 55 degrees I have been annoyed. I like warm weather, I like wearing little dresses and hanging out in the park. What’s annoying me is that when the weather gets warm, all of the couples in New York City decide to come out of hiding.

When the summer comes, suddenly the city is flooded with pairs of people holding hands on the street, cuddling in the subway and dry humping in the park (no, seriously… I’ve seen it and its not cute). I had to wonder where these couples were during the coldest parts of the year. I mean, when I slip on a cute outfit and then cover it up with three layers of clothing just so I can trudge through the snow to meet my friends for a drink, the train is full of small clusters of single people doing the same thing.

Then I realized that couples don’t go out in the winter because they don’t have to! They stay home. Alone. Together.

Maybe that’s why, when they make their warm weather debut, they are beyond excited to rub it in my face show their coupledom to the world. I guess anyone who’s been inside their apartment since November would be a little overzealous to take their love to the streets and in theory I understand that, but as a single girl in New York City, it makes me sick!

The other day I rode the 2 train from 14th to 72nd street sitting across from a couple who was happy just to play with each others fingers and a fit of rage (and maybe jealousy) took over me. I found their simple affection nauseating and unnecessary even though I love love! I’m happy when my friends find someone and when I see people making each other happy. But these first few weeks of warm weather have been brutal for a girl who isn’t in a relationship.

I had to ask myself if it was the couples that were annoying me or the fact that I’m not in a relationship that’s driving me nuts. I have to be honest, I think its the latter. If given the chance, I would probably be one half of an obnoxious summer couple in a heart beat (minus the dry-humping, ’cause that’s just weird). After all, I shave my legs every other day during the summer and it would be nice to know that at some point someone was going to touch them.

A Big Girl Rant: Why Do Big Girls Overcompensate?

You might get mad at me for this one, but here goes….

I’ve been noticing a trend among the big girls that I see in New York City and its not good. Whether I’m on 125th, in Soho or navigating the sea of tourists on 34th street; lately, if I’ve seen a big girl her style catches my eye (and not in a good way).

These days when I see a group of girls, the big girl is the one who’s outfit is over the top. The abundance of piercings, extreme extensions, crazy hair dye, unflattering leggings in awful colors, offensive cleavage, color contacts… etc. is mind boggling!

Just so we’re clear, when it comes to this issue, I’m not sitting on my high-fashion-horse looking down. I’ve been that girl. I’ve died my hair, pierced my nose and while I love my boobies, I’m sure I’ve been a little over zealous in sharing them with the world. But ultimately, I realized that I was doing instant changes to my looks and ignoring the one change that I actually needed to spend time on, my weight.

I was in a bar bathroom about a year ago and there was an advertisement for a local gym next to the mirror. It said “Putting on Lipstick Wont Make You Thinner!” So many PSP’s are attempting to use external things to distract from their weight and it doesn’t work!

That piercing wont make you thinner!
Having hair extensions wont make you thinner!
Changing your eyes from brown to blue wont. make. you. thinner!

For the record, I think you can be fat and fabulous (duh!), you can be fat and fashionable (double duh). I’m talking to those of us who’ve become fat fashion victims. It’s like, instead of embracing trends and personal style we’re being overtaken by these things. Its an easy trap to fall into because it’s instant gratification. Hearing “you look cute today” feels good, especially if we feel like our weight keeps people from seeing us a certain way… but lets keep it all in perspective.

Because at the end of the day when we take out our piercings, fake hair and contacts… if we don’t feel comfortable in our own skin– it doesn’t matter.

But, I AM Overweight!

I was doing a quick run to the grocery store which meant I didn’t even bother getting dressed. I just tucked my pajama pants into my Uggs and threw on my wide collar black wool coat which still had a big bejeweled brooch on it from the night before.

As I stood in the dairy aisle deciding if I should try a new brand of Soy Milk, a very tall man with curly salt and pepper colored hair pushed his cart in between the refrigerator and me.

“That brooch is so big, you might need a bodyguard,” he said.

I smiled politely.

“You know, I am a bodyguard… in case you need one,” he winked.

I stared at him blankly.

“One other thing,” he said as he leaned in closer. “If anyone tells you you’re overweight, let me know and I’ll break their legs!”

*deep sigh*

I’m thinking of keeping copies of this in my purse to pass out when necessary.

A Big Girl Rant: Denim vs. Chub Rub

Yesterday I attended the funeral of my favorite pair of jeans.

I made my way down the steps to the trash cans behind my apartment building with my jeans lifeless in my arms. As I lifted the metal lid and placed the jeans on top of some trash bags I wondered if my neighbors would think I was nuts if I said a few words.

My Svobodas were a very special pair of jeans. They came from a family of denim designed specifically for PSP’s (Plus Size Princesses) and this pair did everything that jeans should. Not only did they elongate my legs but they enhanced my, um… assets. My Svobodas and I have been through a lot together; casual Fridays at work, first dates, nights out with the girls… I could always count on them to make me feel good. Sadly, these jeans fell victim to an untimely death at the hands of… Chub Rub.

Chub Rub: discomfort caused by chub (fat) rubbing together.

As I looked down into the garbage can at my dearly departed denim, it started to mist. I wanted to shake my fist at the grey sky and cry out “Chuuuuub Ruuuuuub!!!”

Chub Rub has been an arch Nemesis of mine for many years. Mostly attacking when my bare legs rub together under a dress or skirt. This friction can result in anything from slight skin irritation to burning and/or blisters. I thought I’d won when I began to find ways to avoid chub rub skin irritation while wearing skirts and dresses (I’ll write about that later). My victories were short lived though, because Chub Rub has always had the last word when it came to my jeans.

I’ve laid many pairs of jeans to rest because of this silent killer.

With every step I take, each pair of my jeans will slowly wear thin in the space where my thighs touch and eventually the thin fabric will rip, fray and ultimately become a hole. The Svobodas were a higher quality, so they did last a lot longer, but it was still the same fate. For this reason I try not get too attached to any pair of jeans, no matter how great they are.

Of course, there is reincarnation for denim. I’ve converted many torn jeans into shorts or denim skirts, I’ve even sewn one pair into a shoulder bag. But, no matter how clever I am with their remains, my jeans are never as amazing as when they were in their original form.

This may sound terrible, but when I am pushing my legs together on the inner thigh machine at the gym, I sometimes wonder how much easier it could be to get a little liposuction done to rid myself of this problem. At the rate that I’m running through jeans, it may actually save me some money….