My bad. I have not posted in four months. Primarily because I did not want to discuss anything that had to do with weight. Odd I know that the author of a novel called FAT CHICK would not want to share about the subject that has consumed her since she was 13. I actually think that's the reason I've stayed away. I have been talking about diets, scales, calories, clothing sizes and all that goes with the battle of the bulge for four decades and I just needed a break.
Break over thanks to the one who so many owe their transformations/epiphanies/ah-ha! moments to: Oprah.
I do not watch The Queen of All Media, unless my mother calls me and says, "Turn on Oprah, so-and-so is on." Sometimes I say I will, but don't. Even though this is her last year on network television, I became Oprah-ed out long ago. A bout of insomnia brought me back into the fold.
There I sat, bleary eyed hoping a few moments of staring at the TV's blue light would drive me back into my bed and REM sleep. I did as my husband does most the time, reclined with remote in hand, flipping channels feverishly hoping to be able to watch something that wasn't stupid, boring or akin to soft core porn. Then there she was on her throne of her Chicago set.
As men have been known to say about women at closing time, she looked pretty good in the wee hours.
I tuned in just as Oprah was introducing the four horsewomen of the modeling apocalypse:
Christie Brinkley, Stephanie Seymour, Beverly Johnson, and Cheryl Tiegs. Elle Macpherson, Veronica Webb and Paulina Porizkova weighed in via Skype.
Here is the link to a partial transcript of the show:
http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Supermodel-Legends_1I came of age when these women were the gold standard of how to look and quite frankly I just could never measure up. I loved them and hated them at the same time. Like a Visa Card they were "Everywhere I Wanted to Be" and got everything they wanted. Not only did they look perfect but their lives were perfect. I resigned myself to the fact that I would never live the supermodel life. Or would I?
Just as these women do, I can boast about my children and career (I'm a published author and a columnist), unlike some of them I also have a husband. Yes, I still have my ups and downs -- literally -- with my weight, but clearly I am in good company.
Listening to Christie I was reminded that no matter how blonde one's hair is, or bright her smile or shapely her legs, it is no guarantee that a man will not go looking elsewhere for companionship. How often do we think, "If I only had a body like Jennifer Aniston, then he'd love me." Well, Brad Pitt had that body all to himself and left it. You are beautiful to whomever loves you.
Stephanie talked about the past two years where her dissolving marriage was reported on in the press. She said she gained weight from the stress. Emotional eating. Who knew the most prominent Victoria's Secret model and I would ever have something, let alone that, in common.
The couple recently reconciled when Stephanie went to her husband with a peace offering -- a Navajo blanket he was particularly fond of -- and said she wanted to try again. They're now in couple's therapy and spend weekends together with their children as family. I guess you can never be to beautiful or famous to give forgiveness a try.
Beverly Johnson said that it was her mother who saved her from anorexia. She was 5'9" and 103 pounds. Her mother dragged her out of the tub and made her look in the mirror to see her bones were sticking out all over the place, like a skeleton with a layer of skin over it. It reminded me of all the times my mother said, "You look fine the way you are," and I blew off her compliment as her not knowing anything.
At 25, she felt her career was coming to an end -- the new girls were anywhere from 14 to 17. At 25, I was just coming into my own, personally and professionally. Caring about teenagers was the last thing on my mind. She said she had to push past her fears of being over-the-hill and developed other parts of herself. In essence: having interests makes you more interesting.
Listening to Cheryl Tiegs was like winning the self-help lotto. I wanted to be this woman. She was the gold standard of supermodel. I could only wear that white bathing suit she donned on the cover of Time in my dreams.
Left out of the article I've linked is her confession as to how she started to gain weight and go on shoots where the clothes didn't fit her. The staff (editors, stylists, photographers, and their many assistants, etc) would be stage whispering about her. This woman who was once fawned over for her beauty was having eyes rolled at her for no longer having the body of girl when she was a woman. How often I have done that to myself I cannot count.
She said she went home that day, stood in front of the refrigerator and ate everything in it. It was like she had ripped a page from my own life. I realized I'm not at as odd, crazy, out of control, silly or alone as I once thought.
I have to say that I most enjoyed a snippet from Paulina who said that "Nothing ages as poorly as a beautiful women's ego." To know that even supermodels get the blues made me feel normal.
I thought Veronica made the most sense when she said that you can't be slender or have nice skin if what you eat is baptized in deep fat or butter. Sometimes I forget that you don't have to "diet" as much as just watch your portions and make better choices, like water instead of soda or a sugary ice tea; and that diet sodas only make you crave sugar and eat more. I did that last week and lost 2.5 pounds.
I never thought I'd learn anything or have my self-esteem plumped up by a supermodel, but it happened. I can honestly say now that I look at these women and see more than pretty faces. And I look at my pretty face and see more than someone who could lose a few pounds.
