(note: this post is copied directly from my Tumblr–but I think it’s a big reason why I’ve failed to update this blog in so long as well!)
I’ve been meaning to make a post regarding this excellent blog post that Natalie wrote about fatshion. If you haven’t read it yet, stop and take a moment to; I’ll wait.
I tried talking about this once before and got attacked fairly viciously, so I’m hoping this time around goes better. (although this time I have anon off, so we’ll see.)
I’ve all but stopped making my own posts about fat acceptance because I feel like I’m a square peg trying to fit into a circular hole. I simply cannot find a place for myself in this movement, and I feel like the things that I have to say that I feel are important will never be seen by the ‘right’ people, and therefore never get enough attention or notes to matter.
- I can’t afford lots of new clothes all the time. Or even some of the time. Nor should I have to! I’m sorry, have you seen this economy? I can’t afford $50 Lane Bryant bras, $100 Domino Dollhouse dresses, $30 for a pair of leggings.
- and even if I could, most of the clothes that all the fatshion bloggers go gaga over aren’t available to me at a size 32+. (hint: if your company claims to offer stylish options for fat women, but ends at a size 24/26, you’re not trying hard enough.) I don’t have a nice camera to make OOTD blog posts. I never look put together.
- I don’t do the networking thing. I don’t have the model friends, the blogger friends, the academic friends, the author friends, the friends who run shops. I don’t have people to constantly signal boost me and talk about how great I am, to quote me and reblog me all the time. (That’s not to say that I haven’t been quoted in the past, because I have!)
- I spend a lot of time on my computer, yes, but I simply don’t have it in me to be around on Tumblr/in the fatosphere ALL the time. I work full time. I go to school full time. I’m babysitting more and more. I don’t have the time to start networking even if I wanted to. If I could make money by blogging/being a fat girl on the internet, I would. But I’m not going to sell my body. I’m not going to review clothes. I don’t have any talents to make trinkets or drawing or clothes to sell through etsy. (Not that there’s anything wrong with people who do, it’s just not for me!)
- I’m not going to reblog fat-shaming posts and yell at people who don’t believe in thin privilege. I’m not going to end everything I say with a witty line and a gif. I did that for a while, and I found it accomplished nothing except heighten my basal anxiety level.
Oh!, you may think. But why does it matter how many people see what you have to say?
Because it’s frustrating. It’s hard to see the same photos, or the same quotes, by the same ‘big-name’ people over and over. Not that the pictures aren’t great, or the quotes aren’t great. But there needs to be more room for all of us. Just because we’re not names that everyone knows or faces that everyone’s seen doesn’t make us any less important. I find that this movement can be so cliquey. If you don’t know the right people, you’re basically ignored. If you don’t have sick fashion, if you don’t do giveaways, if you don’t make sassy gifs, you’re invisible. Your efforts are basically useless.
The last time I made a post like this, I got not one, but multiple anon asks that said something along the lines of ‘shut up, we don’t want you in our movement anyway.’ And I think that really speaks to the exclusivity that some people feel about a movement that is supposed to be embracing everyone.
I don’t miss the drama, but I miss feeling like I had the potential to make a difference. And that sucks.