I honestly don’t know if I’m classified as a “big girl” or not. I hadn’t given it much thought until this very second, when I decided to post this awesome question from one of my favorite websites: Manolo for the Big Girl.
Perhaps I toe the line between “average girl” and “big girl.” Perhaps it’s all a matter of perception: I shop in the “regular sized” stores and clothing departments, but I’m sure that society probably views me as a “big girl.” Perhaps clothing designers think that if you’re five-foot-nothing, then you must also be 100 pounds with no discernable breasts, making shopping for clothes more difficult than it really ought to be. All I know is that I’m not a stick insect, I like to eat, and I’m happy with both of these things.
So, back to my original intent here. Plumcake and Francesca have such a wonderfully witty way with words (ack! that’s a lot of alliteration!) and reading Manolo for the Big Girl every morning jump-starts and invigorates me. Take Plumcake’s excellent description of her lunch a few days ago:
Two sliced-up Braeburn apples. One red plum with only most of the sticker removed. Rest of sticker to be discovered between teeth at later date. Odiously hateful organic peanut butter. Technically peanut butter the same way my best friend from college is technically a virgin. One cup peach-flavored probiotic kefir (yogurt’s smug, Nader-voting cousin) mixed with some crunchy sprouted-grain cereal that tastes like angry sweater.
And her later description of her coworker’s lunch:
Is it because she was hauling some sad, Dickensian-looking microwaved meal and wanted to show solidarity?
Love, people. Anyway, Plumcake asks an interesting question at the end of her post, which I think merits a read and an answer. Check it out for yourselves…