She's got the look.

SPARROWSMUSE SEPTEMBER 16, 2010

                                            SHE'S GOT THE LOOK

According to the latest statistics a woman is supposed to have fat hair and a thin body. Apparently my genes did not receive the memo. They also, seemingly, did not receive the memo about the allure of small feet and a big butt. As you well know it is all the rage right now to have some “junk in the trunk”. Sadly, my feet are actually wider than my hips.

     I tend to skulk around shoe stores refusing all help from the perky sales people, and heading towards the, okay I will tell you, (women’s size 10-wide) forbidden zone. Every now and then I get the courage to come right out and ask “Excuse me, do you have this (insert cute shoe description here) in a size 10-wide?” They always give me a piteous stare, and either say no, or chirp “I’ll go check.” Sometimes if I listen closely, I can hear the faint strains of snorts and giggles coming from the back…

   There is a lot of talk out there these days about ‘apple’ shapes and ‘pear’ shapes. I feel that I fall more into the category of ‘potato’ shaped. I seem to be, in fact, genetically modeled after Mrs. Potato-Head. Let me tell you it is interesting to go through life with a squatty, short torso and long (relatively) thinner arms and legs. The major designers out there right now just don’t seem to be favoring that look.

     Also, due to birthing two children and losing and regaining enough weight to add up to a small village, I have this interesting, and by interesting I mean apron-esque, stomach. It’s really too bad that I can’t have a zipper installed then I wouldn’t need a purse. How handy would that be? It would be like a reverse fanny-pack. It would be oh-so convenient too, in a kangaroo-like way. Except instead of toting kids around, I would opt for car keys, wallets and paperbacks.

    The only problems I foresee would be; even more ill-fitting pants and the tricky issue of actually gaining access to the contents in, say, the grocery store check-out line without it being misconstrued as an indecent act.

   I dunno, these are just some random thoughts I am pondering this morning, but I bet those of you out there that are not slim enough to slip through the street grate, or cut the size labels out of your clothes, because it is nobody’s freakin’ business but yours, have probably pondered similar things. No? Then may your thong give you an atomic wedgie!

Tonya Willman ©2010