Fat Chance contestant Joanne pauses on the catwalk to allow total strangers to appraise her value as a piece of warm fuckable brisket
If you are ever in a swimming pool and feel compelled to toss your
toddler niece repeatedly up in the air in order to effect the highly
gratifying splashdown, and your shoulder breaks free of its moorings,
and you end up in physical therapy for 5 months, and your orthopedic
surgeon says â€œHey, howâ€™s about a Medrol DosePak?â€ take it from me. The
correct response is, â€œIâ€™d rather you plunge that giant needle deep into
my rotator cuff like you did last time.â€
For I am three days
into my six-day course of the aforementioned oral steroids, and I am
not myself. I am, in fact, Dave Attel combined with something that
slimed out of the Hellmouth in Sunnydale to feast on blind orphans. I
am stoned, I do not sleep, and I am pretty grouchy, even for me.
Which is how I came to watch half an hour of cognitive dissonance called â€œMoâ€™Niqueâ€™s Fat Chanceâ€
last night on the Oxygen channel. â€œMoâ€™Niqueâ€™s Fat Chanceâ€ is The
Worldâ€™s First Plus-Size Reality Beauty Pageant, or something like that.
a flamboyant, full-figured C-list celebrity, seems like a nice girl.
Sheâ€™s sick and tired of skinny chicks getting all the perks. Her young
lifeâ€™s dream has been to host a beauty contest for fat girls. She
emotes warmly on the subject. â€œWe are the majority! Weâ€™re gonna change
Cut to a commercial for, I kid you not, Weight Watchers.
the run-up to the pageant Moâ€™Nique auditions her contestants American
Idol-style. Once they get to Hollywood, they all bond, laugh, giggle
about their love for steak, hug, cry, and get makeovers. A lot.
Moâ€™Nique loves them all and they all love her and they all love each
other. â€œFat girls are great!â€ is the refrain. Well, thatâ€™s swell. But
they canâ€™t just leave it at that, because who cares about a bunch of
fat girls who arenâ€™t desperately trying to capitulate to the
Nope, a beauty pageant is a beauty pageant. The thing just wonâ€™t die.
point of the show is the â€œdramaâ€ that unfolds as these completely
overwhelmed women are by turns infantilized by Moâ€™Nique and her team of
makeover artists, manipulated into bonding with each other, and finally
made to rend these bonds asunder as they compete for the privilege of
being crowned Miss FAT (â€œFATâ€ stands, somewhat unpoetically, for
â€œfabulous and thick.â€).
Moâ€™Nique, alas, has not changed the
world. Sheâ€™s just arranged for a few more women to be objectified as
sexbots on national television. I threw a book at the TV as she
announced the â€œlingerie competition.â€
[Cross-posted at Bitch.Ph.D.]