When did "size 12" become a curse word?

Why in the world does society favor slimmer shapes? I know, there are a lot of other people complaining all over the place about how Western culture favors a body type that only a small percentage of women have, but I wonder why that is.

Maybe it's purely media-related. Before the 1960's, curvier women were prized over thinner ones. Once Twiggy hit it big, however, it seemed that the slimmer you were the more desirable you were. Or maybe it's all part of the irony of our Western eating habits. We continue to value a small shape while the "obesity epidemic" continues to ravage our homes. We continue to prize smaller figures as they become more and more rare.

Okay, is big-boned. Whale bone, that is!

Still, I am confused. Throughout the majority of our history, plumper women were seen as fertile, and therefore desirable. Renaissance art depicts women with rolls over their tummies; women from the 15th century until the late 19th century wore bum rolls, farthingales, and paniers to make their hips look wider, and the 18th century favored thick legs. What it all comes down to is that during the Colonial era, I would have had a hot body.

I'll say it: I'm a size 12. Why has that become such a bad thing to say now days? I admit, I have had weight issues all throughout my life and a few times I climbed up to a size 16, but I realize that I will never be a size 6. I am just not built that way. I think at my smallest I would be able to fit into a size 10, although I don't remember ever being that size. Even then, by modern standards that would be on the plump side.

Weight loss commercials are making us believe that under all those layers of fat there is a size 4 waiting to emerge like a well-toned butterfly. When I see the before and after pictures I think "Was all that girth in her hips really just fat? Where were her hip bones all that time?". It would be nice if I could smooth out some of the rolls that I have in front, but I don't expect to be model-thin after the whole process.

Another strike against me on society's tally board is my weight. I am elated to be 203 pounds. Want to know why? Because this time last year I was hovering between 215 and 225. I know, that's a big margin to hover in but that's how it was. I obviously lost a couple of inches in the process making the size 12 jeans that were a little snug on me become more comfortable and even get a little loose with wear, even though I still have another pair of new jeans that are pretty tight when I first put them on. The point I am trying to make is that I've accepted that this is the bracket of weight and size that I am in.

The thing is, I don't feel like I look 200 pounds. In fact, there was a point in time when I weighed more than my mother yet somehow looked a little thinner. This was all due to body shape. I hate to use the old "I have big bones" argument, but let me put it this way: the shape of my bones gives me a wider shape. Feeble, I know, but I just want to make the case that different body types are not just fat-layer deep.

I try to be optimistic, but there was one time in the past year when my confidence took a serious blow. I went to my college's health services to check out a bug I caught, so the did the old height and weight measurements just like every time I go to the doctor's office. Then, I was 206 pounds. The doctor said "I noticed you're a little overweight" and offered to refer me to a nutritionist. Obviously, she didn't see my look of happiness when I saw that I had lost nine pounds since my last weigh-in. Plus, whatever I had been doing before I got to the office was obviously working to help me lose weight. I know next to nothing about the BMI system and perhaps I am trying to make myself an exception, but was I indeed fat by modern standards?

The Graces once encompassed all that was ideally feminine

In any case, I expect to lose a good amount of weight come next semester. This will probably be because I won't be able to eat any junk food and will instead be eating apples and actual vegetables on nights other than weekends. Also, I think part of my success is the fact that I wasn't trying to lose weight, but rather I was trying to keep weight off. When I am trying to lose weight actively, I become stressed and even more intrigued by "forbidden fruit" foods. Instead of making myself swear that I would never eat another brownie, I would compromise and say that I could have dessert today, but I couldn't make a habit of it. I gradually stepped down from eating constantly and negotiated with myself. Plus, I took the stairs. Living on the eighth floor never felt like a blessing until my pants fit better.


(images from here and here)