Maxim's Top 5 Most Unsexy Women; It's Time For A Rant!

If you haven't heard, Maxim Magazine, a kind of soft-core porn mag, has released a list of their Top 5 Most Unsexy Women; it's time for a rant folks. My first thought is: why is this list necessary? SO says it's like being on Mr. Blackwell's Worst Dressed List, and there's no such thing as bad publicity, but is that really true?

The list is comprised of:

1. Sarah Jessica Parker
2.Amy Winehouse
3.Sandra Oh
4.Madonna
5.Britney Spears

I don't think being on Blackwell's Worst Dressed List is quite the ding it was many years ago, people either don't care or see it as a indicator of cool. Besides, the unfortunate Gaultier or Versace can be removed after an event, being on a list that for being "unsexy" (is that really a word?" well that hurts.

Despite what media "experts" would have us believe, celebrities are human, they want to be happy and feel good about themselves, why is it fun to undermine someone's self esteem?

I have reached a point in my life where I feel it's more fun to build people up instead of tear them down. When I was younger I had fun being snarky at other's expense but thankfully, I'm not that girl anymore.

The First Time I Saw A Mastectomy Scar

Soon a movie will be airing on Lifetime Television entitled: "Matters of Life and Dating". The film stars Ricki Lake as a cancer survivor who has had a mastectomy and must wrestle with how to negotiate the dating world.

The first time I saw a mastectomy scar was in 1999, and it stands out as one of the most impactful experiences I've had to date.

*Jane was a member of the spiritual group I belong to and I had known her for about three years. We were not close friends but we did have a very friendly acquaintance. We would have extended conversations after the monthly meetings which were sometimes held at her home. Suddenly, we were not having meetings at her home and she wasn't present at meetings held elsewhere. I inquired as to her whereabouts, "Jane has breast cancer", I was told.

At that point in my life, I hadn't ever known anyone with cancer and it hit me hard. How was that possible? I had seen her not that long ago, just a couple of months really. Could she have gotten sick in so short a time? And breast cancer? Breast cancer is frightening, and strikes on all levels, physical, mental, emotional, spiritual and because you never know if it could happen to you.

We all got updates on Jane's condition, we were told she was going to have a mastectomy, we were told when it was to be, we sent extra prayers and good energy for her healing. And then one day she was there again, just like that!

"How are you?" I asked, "I'm fine" she replied, and she looked great, happy even. Of course we were all full of questions and we asked them. All except one. That one question was like the elephant in the living room, its presence was tangible, as if it was sitting at the table with us.
"Do you want to see it?"she asked, and of course we all did.

There in her dining room, with eight women sitting around the table, she lifted her sweater over her head, unbuttoned her shirt, and stood, while we stared silently. No one said a word for some time. I didn't want to be the first to say anything for fear that it might seem disrespectful because what I was thinking was: "that's not what I expected".

I didn't really know what to expect, the only frames of reference I had to use were some made for tv movies, and whatever my imagination could create. I couldn't fathom what breasts would look like if one were missing, it was territory my imagination couldn't or wouldn't, pass into.

Sometimes when dealing with the unknown, what you can create in your mind is far worse than the reality. I knew what my breasts meant to me, the currency they'd been and sometimes the source of my self esteem and I was horrified at the idea of being "maimed" and "not a woman".

And there stood Jane, gloriously showing us the reality. After some moments had passed she said, "It's not that bad, huh?" That broke the tension and we were like chattering magpies, because the cancer was bad, the sickness she'd felt was bad, the chemo was bad, but the scar the actual place where her breast used to be- not that bad. She was still whole, missing a breast but by no means maimed, and still very much a woman.

That was a great gift that Jane gave us that day, and I will forever be grateful. That was the first time I saw a mastectomy scar; the second time was yesterday in a magazine. The young woman was standing in the photograph with her breast bared and mastectomy scar proudly showing; she'd adorned it with a beautiful flowering vine.

She looked victorious, just like Jane.

*name changed.

Dress The Body You Have Now

"Apparelsomedayitis" is a strange disease that afflicts mostly women. The malady is insidious but can strike after the birth of a child, after use of some medications such as steroids, or as part of the aging process.

Some of the symptoms of "Apparelsomedayitis" are owning clothing in 4 or 5 different sizes, refusing to purge a wardrobe of smaller sized clothing because "someday you're going to wear them again", and the worst symptom: refusing to buy clothing in the size appropriate to the body you are currently in, refusing to dress the body you have now.

Do you have "Apparelsomedayitis?"

I have a dear friend who has gained some weight over the years, to be honest it's quite a bit of weight. Still, she is beautiful, vivacious, funny, easy to be with, and a victim of "Apparelsomedaytis" who displays the worst symptom of the malady, regularly. She refuses to make peace with the body she has, and her wardrobe shows it.

What she wears to clothe her current body is unattractive and not flattering to her body type. I made a suggestion once about visiting a store that caters to plus size-once. The chilly response I received, well let's just say that I am beginning to get over the frostbite.

I am no stranger to the disease of "Apparelsomedayitis", I was afflicted some years back as well. My joke was that I had wardrobes for 4 different people in my closet, but it really isn't funny. It seems to me that holding on to clothing that you haven't worn in years because "someday" you'll be that size again is cruel and an insult to the body that serves you now.

Some years ago there was a magazine that catered to plus size women called MODE. I find it interesting that the exact name and font type is now used on "Ugly Betty", but I digress.

MODE Magazine was wonderful, full of lush, beautiful, plus-sized, women, gorgeous pictorials, relevant articles, and fabulous clothes. It was really like a VOGUE but for full figured women, and I would eagerly await each issue. Each issue of the magazine would cause my head to lift, my strut to become more pronounced. I felt beautiful and there was a magazine filled with women who looked like me to prove it! Sadly, that magazine didn't last-- excuse me while I observe a moment of silence in memory.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that eating well and healthy and exercise don't have a place in the world. I am simply saying I refuse to dishonor the luscious, curvy, body I have now by not providing it with attractive clothing.

I am living in the present, not the future. I no longer have "Apparelsomedayitis". I'm not that girl anymore.

More Alike Than Unalike

...We seek success in Finland,
are born and die in Maine.
In minor ways we differ,
in major we're the same.

I note the obvious differences
between each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

from Human Family by Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou writes "we are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike" while Ms. Angelou was discussing different races and ethnicities in her writing, this same idea can be applied to men and women.

The other evening I happened across an episode of "The Pickup Artist" on VH1 where Ms. Angelou's idea was being illustrated.

"The Pickup Artist" is a show where several men who have little or no luck with the opposite sex are schooled in the art of picking up women by a young man named "Mystery". I am clearly not the target audience for this show because not only had I never heard of this gentleman, I couldn't see what entitled him to school anyone on the "art" of picking up women.
Off I go to Wikipedia to get some information. Here's what I found:

His name is Erik James Markovic. He's 36 years old. Markovik was, by his own account, unable to attract women in his teenage years, at one time a Dungeons and Dragons player. He has also described himself as a "late bloomer", having not experienced puberty until the age of 16, and not losing his virginity until age 21. As a result of his sexual frustration and loneliness he traveled to nearby cities over a 10-year period and approached women. Over time and after thousands of cold approaches, he developed a routine based system for successful approaches which he called the Mystery Method.

Okay, I stand corrected.

Maybe.

The episode I watched had seven men; every one of them to my, not-the-target-audience eyes, perfectly attractive and personable. True, they weren't stepping off of the pages of GQ any time soon, but then neither is Mystery.

Anyway, all of the men were given makeovers which included piercings, hair being dyed, and really unfortunate wardrobe choices and then had to accomplish "tasks" while being watched on camera by Mystery and his "wing men". One of the tasks involved having to wear a Speedo (a truly evil piece of clothing that NO man looks good in) and attending a pool party filled with attractive women.

The men are were all shapes and sizes; we see their discomfort once they are presented the swim suits and told they have to wear them. Here is the really interesting part, the man who was shaped like a teddy bear was the least self conscious in the Speedo, the one with the big biceps and flat stomach was so distressed and self conscious that it was painful to watch.

Needless to say, the larger man won the "task" which was to engage the women at the pool party. It was not hard to see why; he was funny, charming and a bit flirtatious. It made me wonder why he was there. In fact, all of the men were able to get past their discomfort and have a better time than they thought possible.

When Mystery debriefed the men before announcing the winner of the task, one of the things he mentioned was that the ability to engage the women had nothing to do with how they looked. Wow! The men all seemed to agree but I don't think they really heard what Mystery said.

I believe there's "a lid for every pot" and while it might take awhile, sometimes a long while, the person who can see the specialness of you does exist. I hope that ultimately these men learned that lesson.

Every person, no matter how beautiful has experienced moments when they just don't feel enough. Lack of self esteem is no respecter of persons, it hits us all. We are more alike than unalike.

I Sing The Body Eclectic

An alien invaded my body and I found myself watching an episode of "The Tyra Banks Show" recently, something that I don't usually do. Once, after a marathon of "America's Next Top Model" I coined the name "Tireda" for Ms. Banks.

This episode was about weight issues and body dysphoria, a fancy name for funky feelings about your body. I am probably like most women on the planet when I admit there's never been a time when my body was "just right" so anything on weight issues gets at least a couple of minutes of my attention.

The show attacked the subject from many sides. The comedian, Ant, did "man on the street" interviews regarding a life-sized, cardboard cut-out of one of the guest's headless bodies. This particular guest hated her stomach, a stomach that was soft, and round and to her, a thing to invest hatred in. "What do you think?" Ant inquired of several different people, all seemed to think the woman's body looked "real" and expressed admiration, one man took the cut-out home he was so enamored.

In another section, Tyra took a young woman over to a large board with pictures of various body parts assembled and challenged her to choose which photos were of her body. This young lady chose the largest pictures and assembled them into a body that looked nothing like the woman beside Tyra. Tyra reassembled the correct photos and showed them to the young lady who was surprised that the reality didn't match the incredibly overweight picture in her mind.

I watched this show with some sadness for the women who were guests; sadness that they were blind to their beauty and that the sum total of their worth had been centered on the size of the jeans they wore.

I still wrestle with this issue, but one of the benefits of not being that girl anymore is the ability to know more times than not, that the size of my heart is what really matters. I am trying to make it bigger all the time.