This week, I can’t sit back and shush after seeing Tess Holliday, a morbidly obese model, generously taking up the entire front cover of Cosmopolitan magazine. Her thighs alone consumed half the page.
*sits back and waits for public outrage*
Now half my readership are out the way, I’ll continue my fat bashing rant to the few of you remaining. I’m guessing you guys have a BMI that hasn’t rocketed into outer space. Tess is a human, of course; but she won’t be one for much longer, because she’ll be a corpse. You can celebrate being fat all you want, but nobody will be RSVPing to the party if you’re dead. Fat dead people throw the worst parties.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but the organised public whining against runway models is that they are unhealthy, not ugly. And Tess is…. An image of lifelong wellness and optimum health? No. Let’s make a little risk assessment comparison:
Conclusion: both fat and thin people are screwed if they want kids.
On a serious note, my job is to care for the physical wellbeing of you lot. And charge loads of money for it. Anyone who sees a picture of lifelong self neglect and thinks it’s reasonable, you should be sent back to science lessons in school where you’re taught what fat cells look like under a microscope. Tess, sadly, doesn’t need a microscope any longer. She’s magnified herself through a life of salad dodging and sofa sitting.
Being trained in Cardiac Rehab, we have an understanding of clinical “illness behaviour.” That is a daily behaviour that is damaging and essentially, terminal; unless addressed and reformed. Tess is engaging in illness behaviour by being of a size that invites multiple pathologies that could kill her. Her daily food intake has crossed a line; instead of being the fuel to keep her alive, consumed to excess it’s deadly. I refuse to celebrate this. Soz Tess.