The New, New Sexy?

There is this really awkward battle that all magazines seem to be waging about what is sexy. Splashed across every Cosmo and Vogue are “sexy secrets” and tips on how to look sexy this season and blah blah blah. That’s good. That’s great! I love sexiness, and advice about how to have more of it is always A-OK with me.

But. I’m just saying, I think somewhere in the past forty years or so, what actually constitutes “sexy” has changed. For the worse. Take a look at this month’s Runner’s World‘s cover girl, for instance.

Now, before you get all up in arms saying that Runner’s isn’t a fashion magazine and isn’t touting sex appeal and you break a key from slamming on your laptop so hard, relax. I fully and totally agree with you, but I am just using that as one of many examples of how the standard of what looks good has changed. The editors at Runner’s picked someone they obviously thought was attractive and had a good, fit body. Similarly, Miss Wintour’s bella counterpart threw Karlie Kloss in her latest edition of Italian Vogue, and she might not have the jogger’s creepy six-pack, but she is one hell of a string bean.

OKAY. So now we have established that people–specifically, media moguls, since most guys I know would still rather date a curvy girl than a stick–today find no-waisted, four-pounds-and-fit girls attractive, but for the love of God, what about the fine felines of the 50s and 60s? What happened to my girl (as ever) Brigitte Bardot? What about everyone’s favorite sexpot, Marilyn Monroe? Betty Grable? Sophia Loren? Anita Ekberg? I mean, I fully admit that I have a total love for all things vintage, and that includes the way-sexier, thirty-thousand-times-more-appealing stars of the past, but come on. Scroll up and look at Ms. String Bean, and then have a gander at BB here. (Ooh, I just realized, it’s KK vs. BB!)

Right? Right. Brigitte (and Marilyn, and Betty and seemingly every other famous lady in the past) had a waist and hips and breasts and didn’t look like you could draw her body by tracing a ruler. If I’m not mistaken, most people don’t find rulers sexy. All I’m saying is that I think Ye Olden Days had a higher class of woman–sexier, better-dressed, and all-around more attractive than the stabby-boned/overly-toned celebrities who are popular now. And I miss it, and fuck all of you, I’m going to wear vintage skirts and Bardot eyeliner until the end of time.

*Disclaimer: 1.) There is nothing wrong with being skinny. I know plenty of girls who are not naturally born with curves and could eat a horse and still be Ruler Girls. Not their fault, and it doesn’t mean they’re ugly. But…I’m just saying, I’d take Brigitte Bardot’s body over theirs any day. 2.) There are plenty of curvy, gorgeous women today, but to be frank, I don’t really trust that 90% of them are REAL in the Age of Implants. To the other 10%, kudos.


Every Celebrity I’ve Ever Been Compared to, Ever

Something about my face makes people compare me to other people. I don’t know why, but I get a lot of “you look like blankity-blank” nonsense. Which is usually flattering, but on the rare occasions it hasn’t been I just stare at them while trying really hard to look attractive so that they’ll go, “Oh, you know what, you don’t actually look like [ugly] blank, you look like [super sexy] blank!” And then I will stop holding my face perfectly still and say, “Why thank you.”

My favorite one to get is Brigitte Bardot, for obvious reasons. She’s French, she’s drop-dead gorgeous (which is a really creepy expression, but I love it anyway), and of all the people I’ve been compared to I like her the best. She’s my style icon, to boot (by which I mean, my excuse for wearing lots of cat’s-eye liner and high-wasited things–no one argues when you say, “Well, Brigitte Bardot did it!” And if they do argue they’re a dick).

Plus, we have a lot in common, looks-wise: we both have a squarish jawline (so attractive–but I don’t really mind it, because if Minnie Driver got into movies with that octagon she calls a face than not having a perfect oval head seems a small price to pay for the rest of us), big eyes, big lips, and blonde hair (which I cut, intentionally, with Bardot bangs). And if this all sounds really conceited, fuck off, because if you’re still reading this it was conceited from the first sentence so don’t go getting all shirty about it now. (God, I love calling people shirty. It’s not even an American expression, so whenever I say it to my friends no one understands. But it is GLORIOUS. I hope “pants-y” comes around as a synonym for “uptight tool.”) What was I saying? Oh yeah, how me and BB are incredibly attractive twins–our heights are an inch apart, and if the Internet is to be trusted, she’s a 36B to my 34 (although she looks a bit more equipped in the bazoonga department than that to me, but what am I, a traveling boob expert?).

Long, self-absorbed story short, I like being compared to her because it makes me feel prettyyyy, so pretty, something something something prettyyyyy and gayyyyyy!

But there are other individuals I’ve been compared to, and some of those are less flattering. By a lot. When I was a lot younger (and, I like to think, before my face was fully formed into the glorious object it is today), I got Uma Thurman a lot. I can still, tragically, see why some people might say that, but I haven’t gotten in years. And I once got “Paris Hilton, but without the nose!” Also when I was younger, I got compared to Hilary Duff, but in all fairness that was by a group of black girls at a charter school who rarely saw white people (and that’s not racism, just a statement of fact). I rarely saw black people when I was younger, but since I’m not a dick I didn’t call them all Raven Symone.


Those are all the less-attractive celebrities I’ve been compared to, unless someone said something horrible like Rosie O’Donnell and I blocked it from my memory or something. Besides Brigitte Bardot, I get compared to Scarlett Johannsen sometimes, which is highly complementary but not crazy-accurate (although any time I get bored and do some “celebrity face match” I get her), and Sarah Michelle Gellar (also not accurate, but I love Buffy so I’m okay with it), and once, very misguidedly, Kiera Knightly.

So now the People of the Internet know (kind of) what I look like. And that I am extremely vain and never forget a compliment. Maybe if someone does a face mashup of BriUmParHilarScarSarKie it will look just like me. (Although if you do that, a. You’re creepy, b. You have an extreme amount of time on your hands, and c. Please send it to me.)

Real Women Have Fat…Er, Curves

First of all, let me apologize for yet another gigundo absence. I was off visiting people and doing things and putting the finishing touches on my crystal meth lab, and it got kind of hectic. Plus sometimes I just can’t think of anything good to say, so I just Tumble pictures instead. But anyway.

So, I have this thing that bothers me, and it’s the phrase, “Real women have curves.”

Okay, listen. That is just not true. Some women have curves, and then there’s the other 92% who are some variation on skinny or fat (Google it–only 8 or 9% of women have an hourglass shape). Like, that phrase is just a stupid way of saying that women have boobs and butts, but what pisses me off about that is 1.) I hate when super-fat people call themselves curvy. Like, you’re not “curvy” because you ate three buckets of fried chicken for breakfast. You’re fat. And 2.) Some girls are naturally not curvy at all, and that phrase is kind of mean to them.

Take me, for instance. I would say I’m average weight, although people usually describe me as skinny, I think because I’m tall and it creates some kind of optical illusion or something. And while I have a pretty awesome ass, my ta-tas aren’t huge (although they’re still awesome. Let’s be serious.)–I’m a B-cup. Long story short, as far as I can tell, I’m a real woman (if I’m not made of people meat, no one’s noticed yet) but I don’t have textbook curves (although in college a bunch of people told me I was “skinny-curvy” and I was like, “You wack,” ’cause I am not). You see where I’m going with this? The real phrase should be, “Real Women Come in All Shapes and Sizes.”

And before I get 98 e-mails bitching me out about saying fat people aren’t curvy, I am not saying that heavier women can’t be totally gorgeous. But there is a difference between curves and fat rolls, people.

Absolutely beautiful. But curvy? I DON'T KNOW, PEOPLE. That's the whole question.

You know what though, fuck. After writing this I just feel all jumbly, because when I searched “curvy” for pictures, 99% of them were of chubby girls. So maybe I’m the retarded one and that is the technical definition of curvy. So I probably should go back and re-write this post. Or…I could just post it and let the People of the Internet see the hideous mess that is my brain. Yeah, that sounds like a better plan.

The Skinniest Fatty

Dun dun…dun dun…DUN DUN! You know what that scary sound is? (Don’t read it like, “Dun dun. Dun. Dun.” Read it like, “DUNDUNDUNDUN” all Jaws style.) Something is coming. And that something is…swimsuit season.

I’m stupid. But anyway, that retarded intro to this post aside, I need to Get My Fat Ass Into Shape. Or should I say, my skinny-fat ass into shape. If you haven’t heard that cute little term, it describes people like me. People who look decent (okay, fine, awesome) but are actually not really in shape at all and are just possessed of one kickin’ metabolism. And if you’re thin and you’re reading this right now, it probably describes you, because most people just don’t work out. But do you know what happens if you count on that metabolism holding out for the rest of your life? YOU GET SUPER FAT AND KIDS POINT AT YOU IN THE GROCERY STORE BECAUSE THEY ARE AFRAID YOU’LL EAT THEM.

Okay, maybe not. But you will get fat. And even if your poor body somehow manages to keep you skinny while you wolf down Hungry-Man dinners and Keystone, it’s still not as sexy as being skinny and toned.

I mean, don’t let me cramp your style. There is nothing wrong with being whatever size you want to be. But just speaking on a personal level, I want to be thin and in-shape, not some gross tube of Cheetos and fattiness or whatever. I used to run track, so that’s obviously back on the menu to get myself looking extra-spicy (what? Fuck you. How many synonyms for “sexy” do you know? I’m not gonna go grab a thesaurus for this), as well as dancing, because it’s fun and it’s supposed to make you less chubbsy ubbsy. And some weight-lifting, because every fitness thing I read is all “blah blah blah calories blah blah don’t forget WEIGHTS weights weights weights weights!” And yoga, since that’s part of the daily hullabaloo anyway.

I mean, I’m sure I have a few good years left before the skinny-fat thing stops working for me, so I could just sit around eating Ben & Jerry’s instead. But that’s not my jam. (HAHA food puns.)