Fat fat fat- it's everywhere at the moment. It's a moral issue, or a feminist issue, or a cultural issue. Or it's about aesthetics or health or fashion or the consumer society, or self-esteem or self-loathing or self-pity or self-control. Take your pick. Actually, my pick today is a New York Times article by Dimitia Smith, 'Demonizing Fat in the War on Weight' (May 1, 2004), which I came across on Google. I rate the interesting little details in this article over weighty argument. Thin wasn't always the chic size to be. Apparently Louis XIV padded his body to look more imposing, living as he did in an age when plumpness was associated with affluence, aristocracy, and good health. Conversely, 'The People Against the Fat' was a rallying cry of the French Revolution, which led to the the guillotine becoming a rather drastic method of weight loss.
Another nice morsel: "The first popular modern dieting book, 'Letter on Corpulence Addressed to the Public', written by William Banting, an undertaker, appeared in 1863. Banting wrote that when he was fat he was regarded as a useless parasite. He went on a diet and lost 35 pounds. 'I can honestly assert that I feel restored in health, bodily and mentally', he wrote." Plus ca change. He could have been writing today.
Afros. Not something about which I have any personal knowledge, although I suspect they can be pretty high-maintenance.
Oh, wait, did I get that wrong? Of course, it should have read, 'A house is a machine for living in', a quote from the Swiss architect Le Corbusier ('Vers Une Architecture', 1923). But he probably didn't live out of his handbag, the way some of us do. My current bag is big enough to house everything but the toaster, and it does. Le Corbusier apparently also wrote, 'The home handbag should be the treasure chest of living' (not sure where that one comes from), which also suits- look, look, here's the earring I lost last year! But where oh where are my car keys?
I have apparently turned soft and tender over the winter months. Last Friday, the weather was so nice that I ditched socks & shoes for the first time this year, and donned a pair of sandals to walk downtown. Big mistake. Blisters began to bud before I'd made it to the end of the road and were in full, painful bloom by the time I hobbled home again. Perhaps feet hardened by years of four inch heels deal better with the winter-to-summer transition.
Yesterday I witnessed a young man, walking a few paces in front of me, allow his shoulder bag to slip from his shoulder and crash to the pavement. This vision prompted a few idle thoughts. First, that young men (and older) now carry bags; just a few years ago, a bag was considered too effeminate an accessory for the male of the species. Only briefcases or other work-related reticules were acceptable. Men now have stuff to carry around, too, and are not afraid to admit it, in the form of a sometimes rather trendy bag.
Secondly, that over the decades (or perhaps centuries) women have evolved techniques of hanging onto their bags, be they shoulder bags, handbags, satchels, clutches or totes, despite their inferior upper body strength, and despite these methods sometimes involving actual body malfunction (along the lines of tennis elbow or repetitive strain disorder).
Thirdly, evolution seems again to have missed a trick. I'm sure that some sort of bag-friendly anatomical element would have given added value to homo sapiens.
Perhaps the recent funeral of Margaret Thatcher had something to do with the above. The catalogue from which I borrowed these handbags couldn't rise to much in the way of fancy names- no 'Kelly' or 'Birkin' here. Instead, these come under such headings as 'Useful' or 'Capacious', with the odd 'Dainty' and 'Smart' thrown in. Those were the days.
English teeth (from my Oxford English Dictionary): a set of hard bony enamel-coated structures in the jaws of vertebrates of English nationality, notable only for their very stained and irregular condition.
I have classic English teeth, ruined early by inadequate brushing, regular sweet-eating and pre-fluoride tap water, and dating from an era when orthodontics were considered an unnecessary extravagance. I fear I am beyond braces for the middle-aged, and comfort myself with the notion that the current popularity of vampires and zombies render my jaws positively trendy.
