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Weighty matters

FORTyFIED - Cecile Lopez Lilles -

Mayo, a single, gorgeous female, and a good friend, has this habit of refusing the last piece of food on the table, no matter how appetizing or delicious it is and no matter how hungry she rem-ains. The reason for this is the saying that if a lady gets the final piece, she will not get mar-ried. Mayo, who is of Spanish descent and who has spent most of her life living in Spain, explains further that in Spanish the saying goes:  “El torzo de la verguenza,” meaning “the piece of shame,” and that it is always left because people are too shy to take it. She literally believes this whole belief came about because once upon a time a single lady took the last piece, was shamed, so nobody would marry her—or something to that effect.

Her long-time boyfriend, Jopy— the whip-smart, witty man that he is — has a different insight into it. He says, “That’s the reason single ladies stay slim (Mayo has the perfect figure), because they never eat the last piece of food; and conversely, that’s the reason they balloon immediately after getting married. With no more marriage opportunity concerns, the appetite starts to rule and the weight just climbs.”

 Come to think of it, this should be the shame factor — the endless weight gain after marriage, not the eating of the last piece. Heck, if the food is good and I am still hungry, I would gobble up that last piece even if Brad Pitt were my fiancé. But then again, I’m already married and it could never have been to Brad Pitt, so…

 As to the issue of the weighty wife, “it’s complicated,” as the current pop culture expression goes. A male friend once said, “Marriage vows should be altered. Instead of ‘For richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; until death do us part,’ it should be ‘For richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; until death do us part; unless you gain 20 pounds or more.’” He continued with a pained expression on his face: “Man, can you imagine having this nice-looking girlfriend just balloon after marriage? It’s painful for the husband.”

 So I asked another male friend who has a keen eye for all things beautiful — women, watches, cars, clothes, sneakers — would you rather be with a woman who is skinny or with one who is fat? Ever so quick on the draw he said, “Skinny.” 

 I came back with, “But you said that your type is the bold star look, you know, the big boobs and big butt combination.”

 “Yes, yes, of course, because curves are really sexy. But you asked me to choose between skinny and fat, so naturally, I would take skinny—any day.”

 “Okay. But what would you do if the woman you really love gets fat?”

 “That’s easy. There are several options. I’ll take her for a run every day. I’ll babysit her and follow her on my scooter or my mini trail shouting words of encouragement and offering bribes — whatever she wants — just so she can loose the unwanted weight. Or I could wield a whip as she jogs — whichever would be more effective, I guess. If nothing works then I’ll just buy her a new body; I’ll send her to Belo.” We both laughed but suddenly his expression turned grim and he negated himself in the next breath. “Maybe not. Hard to imagine being with someone who is all na retoke na. It sounds scary.”

 Another male friend, a Caucasian who grew up in North America, said, “There is such a thing as ‘guy-cute’ and ‘girl-cute.’ Women seem to like this runway model type of women with pin-thin physiques because they look very glamorous. Sure, they look elegant but do we men really want to get cozy with that? Nah… we want a little meat on the bones. Voluptuous is good—really good. Women may call it fat; men call it sexy. Who do you think is sexier? Raquel Welch during her prime or Michelle Pfeifer? Sophia Loren or Audrey Hepburn? Megan Fox or Audrey Tatou? I rest my case.”

 Isn’t “fat” relative, after all? Isn’t there a very thin line between curvy and fat? How many pounds will tip the balance to the “fat” extreme? Five? Ten? Who’s to say? Men? Regrettably, sadly, and most barbarically, yes! Men have the say in this  matter because they are the behol-ders. Emancipated, postmodern women couldn’t care less but such is the tragic truth: if women care at all to partner up with men, then the male aesthetic sensibility does matter. And so, those measly five or 10 pounds end up making a world of difference.

 But in this age of rapid and rabid cosmetic technology advancement, none of these should be a problem anymore, right?  Isn’t the thing to do to hunt for the best dermatologist/cosmetic surgeon and make him or her your BFF? 

The same Caucasian friend had this to say: “You’re asking me to get hot and heavy with the Bride of Frankenstein? No, thank you.  I’d be so scared to touch

her, to hug her, because she might suddenly melt or I might dislodge, deflate, and detach something from her person. Forget it; just forget it. It’s all natural, all organic for me, honey, or none at all. Wait! Wait! Did just actually say, ‘None at all?’ Scratch that. I’ll have some of that silicon-filled, Botox-injected, sandpapered, jackhammered, screw-drivered, nut-and-bolted, suctioned, sculpted, chiseled, rearranged woman — I just won’t marry her. Can’t be too picky nowadays; ya never know!”

 “Well, what if you’re already married to her and she undergoes a major beautification project? Major overhaul. The whole nine yards?” I asked him.

 “No worries,” he said, “as long as I don’t pay for it.”

 “Okay,” I told him, “but you’ll have to live with it, sleep beside it every night, and wake up with it in the morning.”

 He looked totally stunned. “Well, then, thank God I’m not married. Change the subject. Quit freaking me out,” he said.

 I am of a mind that if a man loves his wife anyway, several pounds here and there shouldn’t really matter. It is inevitable in fact, as the aging process progresses, unless the wife is a freak of nature and, for some reason, is able to preserve her figure and maintain her youthful appearance naturally for most of her life.  Lucky is the man who finds this. But to the mortal many, it simply isn’t the case. To which a divorced girl friend shot back, “You’re right, a few pounds shouldn’t really matter to the husband, because in this culture he can just go ahead and find a sexy mistress.”  

 What wisdom!

* * *

Thank you for your letters. You may reach me at cecilelilles@yahoo.com.

vuukle comment

AUDREY HEPBURN

AUDREY TATOU

BRAD PITT

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN

FAT

GOD I

MDASH

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