Although this post focuses on my being a fat woman of color, I’m going to begin by talking about my dad. My father’s way of thinking about life was deeply influenced by W.E.B. Du Bois and ideas of racial uplift and the talented tenth. His parents were part of the Great Migration and ended up in Indianapolis. His grandfather had fled GA with a heavily pregnant wife, because of an altercation with a white man in town. When my father’s parents bought their house, they were the first black family to own in the neighborhood (only semi-legally, since the deed to the house specified it could not be sold to negroes). My father’s parents emphasized education as the path to freedom. Their views were part of a general belief in racial uplift. By working hard, educating oneself, and generally setting a good example to other black people, we would help all of us get ahead.
Racial uplift wasn’t just about educated black elites giving other black people a helping hand, but also about showing white people that blacks were not a collection of negative stereotypes. The people at the forefront (the talented tenth) had to be smart, neat, clean, articulate, and above all they couldn’t get angry about racism. Instead, dressed in your best suit, you presented carefully constructed arguments against racism, knowing that any misstep would be taken as proof that blacks really were inferior.
Presenting oneself well, in the best suit, was an important aspect of being the stereotype breakers. In order to have a chance of being taken seriously, you had to look clean and put together from head to foot. Your hair had to be neat (and for women carefully straightened) because frizzy hair made you look like a “bush person.” The best way to describe the look is “controlled.” If negative stereotypes about black people were about them being savage, flighty, ruled by emotion and lacking reasoning, then the way to counter that was to look modern, tailored, and never have a hair out of place.
When I think about how this applies to me, I look to my father’s mother and his sisters all of whom are fat black women. My grandmother died when I was young, so my memories of her aren’t very clear. Looking at pictures of her, she is always carefully and neatly dressed with matching hand bags. Even when she had to ride the bus for over 2 hrs to get to the office she worked at, she always dressed carefully. No one could accuse of her being sloppy or lazy, and the same for her children. Her daughters, my aunts, dress more casually but with an emphasis on looking “pulled together.” Their clothes always fit nicely, their hair is neat, and nothing is scuffed or worn out. One of my aunts has cancer, and even though she is dealing with chemo, she is still putting together stylish outfits. When she was visiting my family she came down to breakfast wearing silk PJs with an abstract gold print, a cocoa colored silk wrap, and had wrapped a purple silk scarf attractively around her head.
Being concerned about looking “presentable” is an issue many people face, but it has particular relevance for fat black women. The image that we are fighting back against is the popular — and powerful — image of black women as mammies.
Mammies are fat and happy all the time. Mammies have dark, shiny/greasy skin, rolling white eyes, gleaming white teeth and a kerchief tied over unruly hair. Mammies are never attractive, and they are also de-sexualized. Mammies just love to engage in menial labor for white people. Mammies are humble and grateful for what they have, and don’t think of overreaching themselves to do better. Mammies don’t want to rock the boat. Mammies are the opposite of what that those seeking to better themselves want to be.
Because mammy figures are such a potent image, fat black women have to put in extra effort to not fit into the stereotype. This is why my aunts always paid careful attention to what they wore to work, erring towards professional rather than casual. Why they have steadfastly gone after promotions. Why they joined service organizations and to help their communities. This is why they would never dream of leaving the house with a kerchief wrapped around their hair (the silk scarf my aunt knotted around her head was too elegant to be called a kerchief, and besides she was with family). For myself, I’ll run to the corner store in PJs, but you’ll never see me with a red kerchief wrapped around my head.
I’m my father’s daughter, and he raised me with these ideas of uplift and doing better both for myself as an individual, but also as a member of the black community. It’s one of those things that was never explicitly discussed in my home, but pervaded everything. In the suburbs where I grew up, my father was the only black adult in the area. It wasn’t until eighth grade that there was another black student in my grade. Despite the lack of other physical black bodies, the presence of the stereotypes was always there. For better or worse, I mostly got “you’re not like those black people” or “I don’t think of you as black” which well. I was too young to really know how to respond to the racism embedded in both statements. I was succeeding in not being a stereotype, but instead of breaking down stereotypes about black people, my background ended up being erased.
It was in college that the importance of having an appropriately positive body really came home for me. I went to an ivy league school. Contrary to what people think about the school, the black community around me wasn’t just rich black elites: plenty of us were on financial aid with significant student loans. We were united in the belief that we could better ourselves through education.
The other thing that united the black students was not looking “ghetto” (and yes, there is internalized prejudice there that I don’t want to get into right now). No “extreme” hair, no big jewelry, baggy jeans, exposed curlers or loud attitudes. And definitely no jiggling flesh on display. Being fat was something you needed to control. Fatness was more often talked about in the context of the endemic problems of diabetes and high blood pressure in the black community, than in a positive affirming way.
While the black students didn’t look like they fell out of a J. Crew catalog, even at breakfast the black students tended to be more pulled together than their white compatriots so it was clear they weren’t the hired help. We disassociated ourselves from anything that would make white students forget we were there to labor with our minds not our bodies. Having a fat body that reminded people of a servant lacing up Scarlett O’Hara didn’t fit the cultivated image of the educated elite. We didn’t want the white students and faculty around us to forget that we were budding elites too.
The situation makes me think of Lena Horne’s father who, in the 1950s, said he hired maids for his daughter, and she wasn’t going to play one in the movies (with the NAACP’s backing, this was written into her film studio contract). This, of course, is in contrast to Hattie McDaniel who played almost nothing but maids and mammies during her film career. Lena Horne’s image as a glamorous, talented, successful black woman was also built on her slim body and pale skin. She was the opposite of a fat, dark mammy figure. Horne’s sleek tailored look, and beautifully controlled voice, made her someone the NAACP could stand behind.
It frustrates me when I hear white women in the fat acceptance community talk about how fat positive the black community is and express bitterness/jealously that “their community” isn’t, when they’ve never talked to a fat black woman about what her experience of fatness is like. The existence of the song “Baby Got Back” or the popularity of Queen Latifah are presented as proof of how fat accepting black people are. However, those examples are taken from black pop culture white people like, and are chosen without looking at the complexities of what fat black female bodies have meant both historically and in the present. “Baby Got Back” is not actually about fat women. It’s about women with “an itty bitty waist/and a round thing in your face†and who look like Flo-Jo, the Olympic athlete. On a related note, Sir Mix-A-Lot’s line “Cosmo ain’t got nothin’ to do with my selection/36-24-36? Ha, only if she’s 5′3″” is a reference to the 1970s funk song by the Commodores “Brick House.” In “Brick House,” the singer rhapsodizes about a big stacked woman; however her measurements are given as “36-24-36, what a winning hand!” These songs are about women with big boobs/butts and a defined waist, not necessarily someone with an overall large body. If I were going to pick a song that is fat positive, I’d go with Sista Big Bones by Anthony Hamilton. He selected Mo’Nique to be the star of the video.
My experience of being a fat black woman has not been a fat acceptance wonderland. I don’t feel like I have been shamed for my body, but I have felt pressure to have a more socially acceptable body size. I do worry about presenting myself well. Because of the history and attitudes in my community, I feel a responsibility to act in a manner that adheres to a strict code of conduct. Part of the code is hiding its existence from mainstream white culture. I struggle with those pressures when I don’t feel like pulling myself together, when I want to toss a scarf over my messy hair and grab some milk at the store, when I want to snarl at someone rather than do racism 101 for the umpteenth time. Being told by white women that I have it easy when it comes body image dismisses all of the complexities and difficulties of my identity and reduces them to “Cosmo says you’re fat. Well I ain’t down with that!” Making assumptions about someone’s identity and culture based on fragments of pop culture is dehumanizing. An important part of understanding the world beyond yourself, not just asking questions but also listening closely to people who have criticisms of your beliefs. Sometimes what you think is fact is based upon false premises. Black women do not live in a fat acceptance utopia and you’re making racist assumptions if you assume they do.
Notes
Link to more information about Mammy figures. Also, see Sapphire for related stereotype that Mo’Nique often embodies. This post was part of the Women of Color and Beauty blog carnival and International Blog Against Racism Week.
edited to add
Also, the way I primarily self identify is as someone who is mixed race (black and Swedish). I talk about being black in this essay, because that is an identity I also inhabit. I don’t “look mixed” or having passing privilege. When it comes to societal expectations and race, I’m black.
I have a wobbly relationship with compliments. On the one hand, they’re nice. On the other, fatter hand, they make me uncomfortable. I also hate it when folks respond to compliments by automatically apologizing, or arguing with the complimenter (”Oh no, I actually look horrible!”), even though this is often my automatic internal response. It takes a lot of effort to simply say “Thank you,” and not feel badly about it, not feel as though I don’t deserve it, like I should have refused it, like not arguing with it is the height of arrogance.
A year or so ago, I began taking semi-daily pictures of myself and posting them publicly to my Flickr stream. I did this for several reasons, but primarily as an exploration into how my body looks from the outside, how it looks when I am consciously presenting it to the camera, how it looks when I’m not. More generally I did it as a public demonstration of the fabled – culturally speaking – 300-pound dividing line. On the day I learned I had passed the 300 mark, circa 2005, I had been a fully-engaged fat acceptance activist for nearly ten years. And yet that knowledge hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks, in spite of the fact that it was not the result of recent weight gain, and that I knew, intellectually, that I must have been over 300 for quite some time. I based this on the realization that I was still wearing clothes that were many years old, and they fit like they always had; it was apparent that my longtime refusal to be weighed had simply kept me from knowing it.
In my experience, 300 is often levied, by fat and non-fat alike, as a sort of mystical dividing line between Just Fat and OH MY GOD Fat. I’ve lost track of how often, even now, I hear folks say “she weighs like 300 pounds!!” with no concept of what 300 pounds might actually look like, or what 300 pounds might be capable of. I’d assimilated this. And it was only when the number came a-knocking on my own fat door that I became aware of it. So the pictures I was taking were also an effort in publicly illustrating what a 300-pound person may look like. Eventually I started tagging my Flickr pictures with “300lbs”, and just the other day, the ever-keen Marianne of The Rotund pointed out to me that of all public images with this tag, I am the overwhelmingly dominant force representin’ 300lbs in the Flickr universe.
Getting to the point of this post, I’ve shied away from posting my pictures here, on this site. For one, I didn’t want it to come across as fishing for compliments, because I’m really, really not. For another, I didn’t want to seem horrifically egotistical, which opens a whole other can of worms, as the concept of considering my fat body worthy of photographing and sharing publicly is still something I struggle with (and is therefore also another point of exploration in my taking these pictures in the first place). It also makes me a little uneasy to think of this blog being plastered with images of me, especially since I share this space with several other incredible voices whose faces you never see.
But more than that – all of my personal, internalized shit aside, over the past year I’ve been the frequent recipient of emails and private messages from people who say that my pictures have changed them. These emails have been incredibly humbling and intense to read; it’s a bit scary to hear how something I’ve done as such a personal exercise has had far-reaching effects on people I don’t even know, people I will probably never meet, and other people who will never bother to contact me to let me know.
The thing is, while I don’t always have the focus or energy to pound out a many-word post here, I do take these pictures three to four times every week, and over the past several months it’s formed the crux of my activism, as it stands today. So I’ve decided to try an experiment, to collect my pictures every week, and to share smallened versions of them here, with a few words encapsulating my thoughts about them. Folks interested in larger versions or the origins of certain clothes can click through to the Flickr versions for more information.
This is a far more publicly-personal foray into blogging than I’ve done before, but I think it’s a natural next step in my project.
Ever since I wrote that article about people of color and the Fat Acceptance movement, I’ve been thinking more about what it is I’d like to see the white members of the FA community do to start working towards a truly intersectional analysis and framework.
Yesterday, when someone linked to this right-on analysis (go read it, STAT!) of a photograph from a recent photo shoot with Beth Ditto in Nylon magazine, one reaction that I witnessed really crystallized, for me, exactly how some of the underlying racial tensions have played out in the FA community.
Ingredient #1: First, we have the fact that there is a paucity of fat icons in the media for us to look up to. We are starved (no pun intended) to see ourselves represented in popular culture, so it is like a mini coup when there is someone, anyone, who we can claim for our community.
Ingredient #2: Many people, myself included, are calling for the FA movement to incorporate a truly intersectional analysis into their analysis and framework, because it is never just about fat.
Where these two ingredients collide is when a fat icon like Beth Ditto fucks up. Really, the article says it all, but to sum it up: using a working class woman of color as a “prop” in your photograph to make you look is not ok.
This tension plays out when someone who reveres Beth Ditto reads this article or sees this photo and immediately becomes defensive of her actions. My guess is that they feel betrayed and sad and maybe even desperate because all of a sudden, one of their icons has fucked up. And because there is such a dearth of fat cultural icons, they cling, because holding that person accountable for their choices probably means that they should reconsider their support of that artist/actor/performer/etc. And I ventuer this guess because I can imagine exactly how *I* would feel if one of my icons did something that betrayed my values.
For example, a year or so ago, I went to see Dirty Martini perform at the Sex Workers’ Art Show. But, right before the show, I found out that she was a supporter of Shirley Q. Liquor, a white gay man who does drag in blackface. Before I had learned this, I was a huge fan of Dirty Martini, but I was absolutely crestfallen when I found out this piece of information from her. After the show, I blogged about it, and a huge debate exploded. And not only was the discussion disappointing, but I was even further disappointed when someone wrote Dirty Martini a letter about this, and she wrote back defending her support of Shirley Q. Liquor. She said,
“I completely understand the argument against Shirley Q. Liquor and I simply don’t agree with it. I believe her to be a very talented comedian who modelled [sic] her southern character with love and wit. I don’t view her performance as blackface and I don’t believe that she does either. Her comedy is a reflection of our times and it would be very anti american to censor a performer without seeing the actual performance or finding out if it comes from a place of love and respect. I think it is very important to remember that this comedian is a gay man in the south and he may know a thing or two about predjudice [sic].“
Well, that was the nail in the coffin for me. No matter how much I had loved her before, I made a decision that because my personal values did not align with her support of a racist performer, I had to let it (my support) go. But not everyone felt that way. Some people felt that because Dirty Martini was supporting Shirley Q. Liquor vs. performing in blackface herself, it was ok. Similarly, some people have expressed that maybe Beth Ditto didn’t know that the image she put out was problematic, so maybe we should be more gentle on her.
But I have some questions that I think we, as a community, need to seriously wrestle with.
What does walking the talk of intersectionaly look like? Is it “ok” to give fat media icons a little more leeway because there are so few of them? Is the willingness to lower the bar proof that the FA movement isn’t taking race and the racism in our community seriously? How do we hold a media icon accountable for their actions when we can’t always engage or interact with them?
In short, how do we plan to walk our talk?
As yesterday’s post indicates, there’s really nothing fat people can do to always avoid any possible issues with fat-flying. But, we can, at least, make informed decisions about how we fly.
Southwest Airlines is probably the most recognized – and demonized – poster child for their particularly-strict second-seat policy. However, many other major airlines have vague clauses in their Conditions of Carriage (this document should be accessible from any given airline’s website) that give them agency to make adjustments. Even though such guidelines are not so ruthlessly enforced, as illustrated by L’s experience, the possibility is there for this to happen on almost any flight.
On the other hand, earlier this year, Canada passed a law making it illegal for airlines to charge fat passengers extra for an additional seat – if the seat is required, the airline needs to supply it free of charge. My understanding is that this decision is based on the same accessibility requirements legally mandated to accomodate disabled people. Setting the inherent problems of equating fatness with disability aside for the moment, ideally, this “one person, one fare” sort of thinking will eventually come to be the rule in the US. But until then, fat folks who travel have to take such things into consideration.
One fantastic resource for this is Seat Guru, a site that breaks down essentially everything you could ever want to know about any commercial plane or airline, to the very last inch. Yes, I’ve tried measuring my butt (go ahead, laugh), but have had better luck measuring my standard-sized desk chair and using that as a point of comparison, to get a sense of how an airline seat is going to feel. Considering that in most cases the airline seats are markedly smaller than my normal-sized chair, it’s little wonder that everyone, fat and thin alike, experiences some level of discomfort on a plane.
Furthermore, it seems that some airlines use the need for a seat-belt extender as a yardstick to determine whether a body is too fat for a single seat. Since learning this, I stopped asking for one – something I started doing a few years ago, not so much because it was absolutely necessary, as to give myself a bit more breathing room on flights. These days I just deal with a snug seatbelt; but folks lacking that option can always buy their own seat belt extender and carry it with them, removing the need to ask a flight attendant for one, who may or may not be kind and respectful about the whole thing (I’ve dealt with both the polite and the judgmental on this issue, myself).
On a personal note, I fly several times a year (I’m a big fan of JetBlue, and won’t fly any other domestic airline these days) and thus have often worried about being targeted for second-seat purchasing. Since I rarely travel without my uncomplaining husband in the seat beside me – and if he minded being squished against me for a few hours, I wouldn’t be on that plane with him in the first place – it seems unlikely that I’d get nailed for Flying Fat unless it was a vendetta on the part of a fat-hating flight attendant. But I am keenly aware that it’s always a possibility, no matter what I do.
Ultimately, what I’d really like out of this post is to hear from all of you: your experiences, good and bad, your preferred carriers, and how you feel about flying in general. I feel like there’s a shocking and tragic number of fat folks out there who won’t fly simply out of fear of the possibility of being humiliated; talking about this can help resolve those concerns.
Because traveling is awesome, and shouldn’t be something avoided because of your size.
With fuel prices as they are, even a cursory glance over the news reinforces the fact that the travel industry in general, and the airline industry in particular, is suffering right now. Given that major domestic airlines have broken the Fee Barrier and started charging extra for stuff that used to be free, such as all checked baggage, it’s of little surprise that the move toward charging passengers for their own corporeal baggage would be the next step.
Weighing passengers at the gate is unlikely at this point, since it would not only produce a PR nightmare, but would also further injure the ailing industry and send anyone with even a minor body complex scuttling for the Amtrak. However, forcing some fat passengers to buy an extra seat is not new; some airlines have been doing this, quietly, for a decade.
And sometimes not so quietly.
A member of the Fatshionista Livejournal community recently had an experience with just such a scenario on American Airlines, an experience that defied fairness, reasonable treatment, and basic human respect. In the interest of speaking out against this sort of treatment, and letting others know their experiences are neither unique nor shameful, this member has kindly allowed me to reproduce the letter she wrote to American Airlines here.
What follows is in her own words.
American Airlines Customer Relations
P.O. Box 619612 MD 2400
DFW Airport, TX 75261-9612
July 21, 2008
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is L* (AAdvantage Member #1234567) and I am writing to you to register a formal complaint, and to offer suggestions so that what occurred on my recent trip does not happen to others like me in the future. I have been an AAdvantage member for the past eleven years, and have used your airline exclusively for all my personal and business travel. In the past, I have never had any problems with your airline that occurred without a satisfactory resolution. However, an event occurred on my recent flight from Seattle to Dallas that I am unsure will have a satisfactory resolution.
I fly American Airlines exclusively for two major reasons: you have flights to nearly every place I would ever want to go, and unlike your local competitor, Southwest Airlines, you do not make it standard practice to charge passengers of size for an extra seat—until my recent trip.
On Sunday July 20, I flew from Seattle to Dallas on Flight 1516 (record locator: ABCDEF) as I was returning home from a business trip. It has been my practice in the past couple of years to purchase an upgrade to a First Class seat (when available) in order to make my travel experience more comfortable for me and other passengers, as First Class seats are more spacious and can accommodate my body better. On this particular day, I was unable to do so, as I was told via phone earlier in the day and again by a different agent as I checked in at SeaTac airport. I had checked your site via my mobile phone, and it had indicated that First Class seats were available, but apparently this was not the case.
I went ahead and boarded the plane, knowing there was little I could do as the flight was full. As I sat and waited for the others to board, the passenger who was to sit next to me placed his things in the underseat space next to me and then left for a time.
When he finally returned, he fetched his belongings and a gate agent appeared. The agent then informed me in front of everyone that I would need to purchase the seat in between me and the passenger already occupying the aisle seat. I was not given a reason, only ‘here is the best price we can give you for the seat’ as a paper with the price on it was thrust in my face and impatient looks as I tried to figure out what to do next.
As I wanted to get home, having been away for several days, and wanting to spare myself further embarrassment, I gave the agent my credit card and purchased the ticket. I was appalled, shocked and extremely embarrassed, as this has never happened to me on an American Airlines flight.
I came home and read your airline’s “Conditions of Carriage†on your website (http://www.aa.com/aa/i18nForward.do?p=/customerService/customerCommitment/conditionsOfCarriage.jsp), and in no place within that document is there a formal written policy about charging passengers for an extra seat if the passenger is of considerable size. If this is not a formally established policy, why was it enacted with me on my flight? I do not find this fair, because as I boarded the plane, I noticed there were other passengers of size, and none of them were singled out in the same manner that I was. Why was I the only person made to pay for an extra seat when I was not the only large person on the flight? Was I singled out because the passenger who was to sit next to me complained, or was I singled out because this is something that your airline is starting to do with large passengers on flights?
I realize that larger passengers do present a problem on flights, as you are pinched for space and are trying to make the flight as comfortable as possible for everyone, but this particular situation was not handled professionally in my opinion, and I would like to see it remedied so that it does not happen to me or anyone else in the future.
Here is where I would like to point out some things your airline can do in the future to spare someone else the embarrassment that I experienced:
* Please give your staff sensitivity training, or at least remind them that a little tact goes a long way. It is extremely humiliating and embarrassing to be singled out in the way I was singled out. I realize that you cannot reasonably know what each passenger looks like in terms of their size pre-flight, but please teach your staff to have a little more tact when dealing with large size passengers on board in the future. I think the agents who were dispatched to handle this matter were highly embarrassed as well, and employing some such policy would save them the embarrassment of having to deal with this issue.
* Formalize a large-size passenger policy, or don’t be inconsistent in charging some large passengers and not others. Picking and choosing who to make buy extra seats is unfair, and will cost you customers, which you cannot afford to lose. I am fortunate in that I was able to afford to buy the extra seat I was being forced to purchase. What if I had not been able to do so? What would have happened then? My fare had already been paid for by my employer, as this was a business trip. Would I have been stranded in Seattle without a way to get home?
Furthermore, since I was made to purchase an extra seat because I was treated as though I am two people, I would appreciate being rewarded as such. I do not find it fair that I had to buy an extra seat, and I feel that receiving full AAdvantage mile credit for the extra seat for the particular flight I was on would be a satisfactory and appropriate resolution to this issue, in addition to the requests I have made above. I also believe that I should be refunded the full amount of the extra fare I was required to pay, given that none of the other large passengers on the flight were made to purchase extra seats and that my original fare had already been paid for by my employer and I do not expect them to reimburse me for a fare that I feel I was unjustly charged. It is the very least you can do, as my dignity cannot be returned to me.
Please give consideration to the things I have outlined in this letter. I would like to continue to patronize your airline; however, if you choose to continue to treat passengers of size in the manner that I was treated, you will lose not only my business, but also the business of thousands of other large passengers who fly every year (including my husband). Not flying to certain destinations is not an option for me, and I like to think that American Airlines is the best travel option my family and I have. I would like to continue to think so, and would appreciate a prompt personal response concerning this matter, as I will be following up with you in the next two weeks.
Sincerely,
Mrs. L
Suburban Hell, TX
AAdvantage Member #1234567
Cc: Gerard Arpey, Chairman and CEO
Isabella D. Goren, Senior Vice President – Customer Relationship Marketing and Reservations
Rob Friedman, President – AAdvantage Marketing Programs
Kurt Stache, Vice President and General Sales Manager
* Personal information has been redacted to protect the author’s privacy.
Cupcake + Cuddlebunny is a new shop on Etsy, selling altered vintage items for the discerning plus-sized consumer. I am seriously excited by the offerings thus far, even though none of them are my size (YET – I’ve had assurances that the shop will be stocking larger sizes in the near future, and further alterations of given items are possible too). Rachel, proprietor and seamstress, has a remarkably keen eye for amazing vintage pieces, and I can’t wait to see what else she turns out.
Sizes currently run in the 14 to 20 range, which is the only reason I’m showing you this dress; if it’d fit me I would have snapped that up in a cold second.
I’m probably slow on the uptake here, but it was just this morning, via the Fat Studies email list, that I discovered Disfigured, a movie dealing with fat, eating disorders, and a tricky relationship between the two, as embodied by a fat woman and a woman recovering from anorexia.
My understanding – gleaned exclusively from other folks’ writing on the subject, not having seen this film myself as of yet – is that the movie’s portrayal of fat activism is deeply troubling to some fat activists. I can’t really comment on that until I’ve seen it myself. I will say that the trailer completely freaked me out and brought me to the precipice of weepiness. Not because it’s all wrong, but because it seems to be trying to capture the ugly grey area that lives in the heads of many of even the most successful fat acceptance activists, that constant pressure we all do quiet battle with every day of our lives, the struggle to love ourselves as fatasses in spite of powerful forces in the opposite direction. Some of us are winning this war, some are just fighting for a tie game, and some are losing outright. I can’t tell where the main fat character stands just from the trailer, but suffice to say I found it deeply unnerving. This is not necessarily a bad thing; it just makes it difficult to watch. Truthfully, the trailer bloody stressed me out so much I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole film in one go (for reference, I felt the same way about Heavy when it came out in 1995, and took four days to watch it).
While it comes out on DVD (and yes, Netflix will have it) on July 29, New Yorkers will be interested to know that they can catch a screening July 19th through the 24th, at 7pm, at Two Boots Pioneer Theater, 155 East 3rd St. (At Avenue A), NYC 10003. More info is here. If you’ve seen it, please drop a comment and let me know what you thought.
Well, I’m finally back from a really fantastic vacation on the west coast of soviet kanuckistan (which, of course, included some pretty stellar thrifting) fighting nazis on the moon, with yet another thrift tip. I’m sorry to have left y’all hanging (no doubt you–all two of you- spent the past few fridays frantically hitting the refresh buttons on your browser, weeping heartily after each fruitless reload), but the beach was pleading for some stitchtowhere time nazis had started terraforming and constructing a giant laser, so you can see how I needed to suit up and ship out for awhile. The future of my summer the planet, DEPENDED on it. It is my hope that with time and perseverance and a bunch of ill-advised strikethroughs I can win back your trust and we can go back to The Way We Were.
In Tip the Second, I encouraged you to write me with some of your tips, and some of you (some, ONE, whatever!) did! Props to goes to fatshionista reader Olivia Mae, whose email inspired the topic of today’s post.
She writes: “I work at a thrift shop… [and] wanted to pass on some tips… if you spot something with a small hole/stain or a bit of wear and tear, simply point it out to me and I might possibly give you a small discount.” I’d been planning to confess my notorious parsimony and refusal to pay sticker price on ANYTHING make mention of The Possibility of Haggling in here somewhere, and Olivia Mae’s email confirmed it’s a viable Thing, and thus meritorious of its own post (even if it isn’t exactly fat-specific).
So, without further digressive strikethroughsadieu, I bring you
Thrift Tip The Third: Don’t Be Afraid to Negotiate the Price
In my years of thrifting I’ve found that prices do tend to be steep given the quality/wear and tear of many of the items. In fact, high-cost, besides the incredible scarcity of plus-sized items, is probably the most common complaint voiced to me whenever I open dialogues about thrifting: used clothing has become so pricey, people tell me, that one is better off shopping clearance at box stores because there you’ll get NEW clothing for the price of what you’d pay for something pre-loved and you’re guaranteed selection. The way I address this (the only way you can, imho, address it, really) is, pretty straightforward: I *POLITELY* point out garment flaws/stains to a salesperson and they, more often than not, adjust the total to something more reasonable. Call me callous, but given the cold-hearted capitalist culture we live in, I find it difficult not to take the position that most stores/companies are (if inadvertently) prepared to soak me for as much as possible, and, I dare say, RIP ME OFF. Thus, I’m of the mind that when it comes to shopping for clothing, it behooves me to try to shift things to be more to my liking both in terms of price, and in terms of employee/customer interactions.
It occurs to me that in some parts of the continent/circles/thrifting elite (they exist! they are the people who buy those $100 petticoats!) it might be considered rude or gauche to openly question the price of something, so it might be useful for me to illuminate some of my personal context when it comes to the practice of haggling and bargaining. I was spawned and continue to reside in what might very well be one of the cheaper cities (in terms of both costs of living, and people’s spending habits/sensibilities) in North America. We (or at least most of the folks in my circles) actively haggle–or bargain–for all sorts of non-edible wares from cars (both new & used) to 50 cent salad spinners and garage sales. Most Winnipegers love a good bargain, and we all get more satisfaction if we feel like we not only helped make that bargain happen, but increased its bargainicity (totally a word) in the process. Bargain-hunting/negotiation is so woven into my social fabric to the point that I’m kind of surprised when I get my commodity fetishism on with someone who doesn’t check out what’s on clearance of feel remotely moved to try and negotiate a better price based on a rip or tear or loose button.
It also occurs to me that this tip might get some backs up, since many thrift shops and second hand stores are run by charities (The Salvation Army, for instance) or at least donate a portion of their proceeds to charity. While I’m not exactly flush with cash, I should clarify that I don’t mind and expect to pay more substantial amounts of money for second hand items, (fine vintage pieces fetch scads on ebay, such is the way with one-of-a-kind rarified objects) especially when I know my (very often) consumer indulgence, will go to a good cause. I’m not saying that thrifting is all Let’s Make a Deal all the time, because I don’t believe the prices are ALWAYS unfair. If you’ve spent any amount of time in any of the large thrift department stores (especially big thrift chains like Value Village or Savers, as it’s known in most of the the U.S.) you’ve probably noticed that pricing from store to store (and even week to week) can be wildly inconsistent. At giant stores, the volume of donations is large, and (as, my friend who worked at VV for several years tells me) they try to price and replenish racks as quickly as possible. They do the best they can in the time they have, but any of us who’ve worked in retail know how fast things move. Pricers and sorters don’t always have the time to thoroughly comb garments for stains or rips or imperfections and are generally pricing based on like-items and brand reputation. This is why a black tank with frayed edges or a small rip in the hem, could very easily have the same ticket price as one that is sparkling and perfectly pristine. It seems to me that (in my city, and I’m told others) it’s reasonable to assume that with such large volumes of rotating stock some items will end-up priced very high. (The opposite is also true… Every now and then designer labels will be missed and so priced ridiculously low, these rare finds constitute the Thrifting Holy Grail, but that’s another post for another time). If you operate under the philosophy that humans are fallible (and shaftings within steely unfeeling capitalist culture both predicated and inevitable) bargaining negotiations aren’t necessarily about being stingy–it’s a way to actively engage in the often unthinking and automatic act of purchase exchange (how many of us “check out” at the check out… I know I’ve found myself absently punching in the pin on my debit before even looking at the total… very unsettling) and keep thrift prices reasonable and comparable and competitive.
Olivia Mae closed her email reminding us that being nice to store employees is beneficial not just for obtaining a discount now and again, but also for tracking down coveted items. She notes “I can easily help you find things since I probably put the clothes on the racks…[and] if we don’t have a particular something that you had in mind, then I might just keep my eye out for you in the sorting room when I am tagging and pricing clothes.”
Thanks, Olivia! I know I often–to borrow a phrase from high school lit class–frame thrifting as a classic sort of a wo/man versus environment type conflict/quest. Racks upon (often disorganized) racks of potential allies and enemies that I must (and my fat thrift friend) conquer on my (our) own. I forget that staff are there to help and could certainly point me in the right direction when I’m after something specific! Thank you for that reminder!
I hope you’re enjoying this ongoing feature on thrifting/fatshion. If you have any tips you’d like me to share/write about feel free to hit the “contact us†button (put “thrift tips†in the subject line) and drop me a line. I’ve got more tips a brewin’ but I’d love to hear from you & will (of course!) credit you if I write about your tip!
I just sent this to some of my NYC besties, but I wanted to share with y’all how incredibly excited I am about an appointment I have on Friday.
Since I am a champion of the affordable beauty indulgence, tomorrow I’m getting an hour and a half facial for $27 at the Christine Valmy International School.
Originally, I found it through a NY Magazine listing of New York Cheap Spa Deals guide, and sadly, it took me nearly a year to book something. But I have an appointment tomorrow, and my poor skin is more than ready for some TLC and a few good extractions. I was also looking through the NY Mag Best of Beauty picks for 2008, and I saw their listing for a $35 facial in Chinatown. Brilliant!
I totally get that paying for premium beauty services can feel like a huge waste of money, and I often agree with that assessment. I paint my nails really well – as a teenager, I used to spend hours on end painting little designs on my nails by dipping thumbtacks into nail polish – so I don’t get weekly mani-pedis, even though the place that I go to is a shockingly low $12 for a pedicure. I’ve also never gotten a bikini wax, because I can’t imagine paying that much for hair removal.
But, I have to say that getting a facial is a treat that I firmly believe people of all genders can and should do if they can, especially when you find great deals like the ones that I did.
I think that especially for us fat folks, who often find the majority of the beauty industry to be a maddening, alienating world full of constant reminders that you and your business are not wanted or welcome, something weight neutral like a facial can be really rejuvenating. Now, I will say that the last time I got a facial (at a different spa than the one I’ll be at tomorrow), they had me put on a robe which was entirely too small for my bodacious ass and hips, but once I was in the room and under the blanket, the robe was crumpled in the corner anyway, and I was able to relax into the treatment. If I had thought ahead further in advance, I would have brought my own robe, but I pushed through the embarrassment and willed myself to enjoy the experience, especially because I was paying to have it.
For me, I have always found that when things like clothes shopping have utterly failed me as a fat girl, I have always been able to find joy in other beauty rituals, like putting on makeup, doing facials, doing my nails, and other sorts of restorative self-care.
So, I encourage all you fabulous fat folks to pamper your pretty faces (heh), and consider occasional (or frequent) beauty rituals either at home or on the town as a way to thank your body for all that it does for you.
So a couple months ago there was a brief discussion on the Fatshionista Livejournal community about B & Lu’s shifting stock. Specifically, about the really quite annoying fact that a surprising proportion of their newer items at the time only went to a 3X – and a small, junior-sizing 3X at that.
That puts me right out.
A couple fatshionista members emailed customer service – as members are oft wont to do – signaling their distress and frustration. One of the responses from B & Lu allegedly said, in part:
We did add quite a bit of new styles that only went up to a size 3x. They were some styles that we really liked & didn’t want to pass on. In the future, we will continue to offer sizes 4x & 5x, it just won’t be on everything. Sometimes all we can get is size 1x-3x…
I didn’t find this response particularly reassuring, myself. In fact, I’ve been steering clear of B & Lu for the past couple months because of it – it’s too annoying, seeing something I like only to discover it ain’t fat enough for me. However, it seems the folks at B & Lu are listening. As of today, though not everything on their new arrivals page goes up to a 4X or 5X, most items do.
And look, the fatter fatties are being directly addressed:
I’m not sure if this is old news or not – as I said, I’ve not been to bandlu.com for months prior to today, so this is the first I’m seeing it. And sure, you can still get some of those ubiquitous printed-jersey dresses on eBay for a fraction of what B & Lu is charging. (Sorry B & Lu, but this really irritates me; I know times are tough all over, but let’s price things according to their worth.) That said, positive reactions to customer complaints from a small business like this – likely one that’s suffering from a shit US economy right now – can’t be bought. So besides posting here, I’m going to trot my fat, 4X-and-up-wearin’ ass over to the B & Lu site and see if I can’t show them some love, fiscally speaking.
As an aside, would it horrify y’all to hear how tempted I am by those crazy-ass printed leggings? Because if so, then yay, my job here is done.
ETA: Savvy fatshionista punkalicia has posted a new discount code for B & Lu in comments, further enabling your shopping urges –
Take 25% off your entire order at bandlu.com!
Enter promo code SAVINGS at checkout.
The 25% discount will apply to every item in your order,
including sale items.
Offer Expires July 16, 2008 at 11:59 pm CST.
Go forth and be fabulous.
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