Thoughts from a Weird, Strange, Funny Girl
This is a picture of a shirt that I wore around from Beaverton-Hillsboro (Nike/Intell) to Downtown to all the way to Vancouver in. I spent around seven hours total and why? To gage people’s reaction about fat people in sleeveless shirts.
Doesn’t seem like it would be shocking now would it? But oh-ho! Lo and behold I witnessed every type of expression from disgust and horror to gushing compliments. My own two cents, I love it. I feel like I look fabulous in it. The question is, do the haters hate it because I am fat in it or because I have confidence and am fat in it? My gut (haha pun) says probably both.
The journey started from Tigard, Or. to my work in Beaverton to pick up my paycheck. Immediately, I saw results. The moment I stepped outside, neighbors gawkwd (in a good or bad way I couldn’t tell) and drivers turned their heads as I waited at the bus stop. At work, co-workers gushed and complimented (I don’t normally show up to work on a day off paycheck or no paycheck) and I was feeling really good about myself even at McDonalds (even tho one a couple of the moms shot me dirty looks). In general people did no more than glance or do a couple of double takes, until we got to downtown Portland.
You would think, that in the land of freaks and weirdos, people would be more supportive. I mean sure, no one verbally said anything but the looks of disgust were clear. Even the topless 6’4, 400lb Polynesian man got less attention and dirty stares! All because I am a 5’6 fat white woman wearing a shirt that shows off a lot of cleavage and lets face it, arm fat. No one was out right mean or had the balls to speak out but still. It got a little better on the bus when monkey and I ran into a nice couple who were very sweet. Downtown Vancouver was fun and ran into a few fashionistas as we walked around old town downtown and complimented each other on each other’s outfits.
For the most part, people just choose to ignore it, except for the one weird old man on our way back who once off the train made motions with his hands like “cover up your large melons.”
But the thing is, why? Why do fat women have to go through this? Why can’t people just be happy for us being comfortable wearing whatever it is we want?! I think I look good and even better, I feel good in it! It was a nice experiment and I would still wear clothes like this again!