Of Thick-Cut And Shoestring
The more I think about it, the more pissed off I am.
What the fuck is it with the Singaporean obsession with weight?! Every other page I turn in the national paper, there's a half-page ad touting slimming programs that guarantee an unrealistic - not to mention unhealthy - loss of inches and kilos. (Why does Irene Ang need to lose any weight at all? I thought she looked fine before.)
The day after I returned home, my Mom had already launched into her you-used-to-have-such-nice-hair and don't-eat-too-much spiels. And today, one of my aunts called, and one of the first questions she asked was, "Have you gotten fatter or thinner?"
I mean, seriously: What. The. Fuck.
I'm already have a hard time trying to deal with my body image here, all right? I don't need more you-shouldn't-get-(any)-fatter shit, especially not from people related to me by blood. (Because when you've reached your boiling point - or have boiled over - there's just no respectful way to flip them the bird and tell them to bugger the fuck off - please.)
It was so much easier living in Welly: for one thing, I don't get way too much passive pressure to starve myself; for another, females in Welly aren't afraid to have a bit of flesh on them, and such mentality is infectious. As I always like to say: the average Kiwi chick (the human, not the national bird) is a thick-cut chip whereas the average Singaporean chick is a shoe-string; over these past three and a half years, I found myself preferring thick-cut chips (or wedges) to shoe-string chips.
The Singaporean ideal for women seems to consist of two things: one, the figure of an anorexic pre-pubescent girl, which is so thin that her thighs don't - can't - meet even with her legs closed; but, two, not the chest of an anorexic pre-pubescent girl. Basically, it's Angelina Jolie they want - scarily skinny with big boobs.
Fuck that.
(I think Angelina Jolie is hot, but she's just too thin ... which is why she's got chicken legs. Now, Xena on the other hand - those are legs you want to be wrapped around you ...)
I don't wanna be thin; I want to be toned, not skeletal. I like Rani Mukherjī types, not Lara Dutta types. Sure, Kareena Kapoor looked a little heavy in Hulchul, but I'll take her over Sonali Bendre any day (though, Sonali is admittedly way more beautiful than Bebo).
Of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so everybody has different ideas of what is pleasing and what isn't. That's cool. You like women with the figure of an anorexic Third World adolescent? Who am I to say that's fugly?
But please don't you fucking shove your thin-is-beautiful propagandistic repugnant shit in my face, okay?
You can go gag on your shoestring chips; I'll stick to my thick-cut ones, thank you.
(22:40 SGT)
What the fuck is it with the Singaporean obsession with weight?! Every other page I turn in the national paper, there's a half-page ad touting slimming programs that guarantee an unrealistic - not to mention unhealthy - loss of inches and kilos. (Why does Irene Ang need to lose any weight at all? I thought she looked fine before.)
The day after I returned home, my Mom had already launched into her you-used-to-have-such-nice-hair and don't-eat-too-much spiels. And today, one of my aunts called, and one of the first questions she asked was, "Have you gotten fatter or thinner?"
I mean, seriously: What. The. Fuck.
I'm already have a hard time trying to deal with my body image here, all right? I don't need more you-shouldn't-get-(any)-fatter shit, especially not from people related to me by blood. (Because when you've reached your boiling point - or have boiled over - there's just no respectful way to flip them the bird and tell them to bugger the fuck off - please.)
It was so much easier living in Welly: for one thing, I don't get way too much passive pressure to starve myself; for another, females in Welly aren't afraid to have a bit of flesh on them, and such mentality is infectious. As I always like to say: the average Kiwi chick (the human, not the national bird) is a thick-cut chip whereas the average Singaporean chick is a shoe-string; over these past three and a half years, I found myself preferring thick-cut chips (or wedges) to shoe-string chips.
The Singaporean ideal for women seems to consist of two things: one, the figure of an anorexic pre-pubescent girl, which is so thin that her thighs don't - can't - meet even with her legs closed; but, two, not the chest of an anorexic pre-pubescent girl. Basically, it's Angelina Jolie they want - scarily skinny with big boobs.
Fuck that.
(I think Angelina Jolie is hot, but she's just too thin ... which is why she's got chicken legs. Now, Xena on the other hand - those are legs you want to be wrapped around you ...)
I don't wanna be thin; I want to be toned, not skeletal. I like Rani Mukherjī types, not Lara Dutta types. Sure, Kareena Kapoor looked a little heavy in Hulchul, but I'll take her over Sonali Bendre any day (though, Sonali is admittedly way more beautiful than Bebo).
Of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so everybody has different ideas of what is pleasing and what isn't. That's cool. You like women with the figure of an anorexic Third World adolescent? Who am I to say that's fugly?
But please don't you fucking shove your thin-is-beautiful propagandistic repugnant shit in my face, okay?
You can go gag on your shoestring chips; I'll stick to my thick-cut ones, thank you.
(22:40 SGT)
posted by s at 03:40
1 Comments:
I have an affinity for thick-cut women myself. There's so much more to appreciate, the curves, the smoothness of the skin that's there.
I agree with a "hell yes!"
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