Chub Chat: Shedding an old reflex
Spring's tiptoeing in on little rainboots here in Montréal. You'll see women's bodies again, not just a head above a muffler and puffy parka.
When I meet Paula without my winter gear, she says, "You look terrific! Have you lost weight?" I reply, "Paula, I've been the same for five, six years." This ritual is such a sure thing that I'd bet $500 on it.
Paula cycles up or down a size or two, depending on whether she takes daily walks or burrows into her business. She's a conscious eater, but an unconscious Chub Chatter. She means well, but there's something in it that, uh, eats at me.
Chub Chat is either self-initiated criticism, e.g., "I'm an elephant in this skirt!", or a call-and-response, the compliment ("That top looks fabulous on you!)" answered by deprecation: "Yeah, but look at my back fat."
A paper published in the Psychology of Women Quarterly, and reported on Time.com, studied university women and found that "nearly all women engaged in fat talk with their friends, and over a third did so frequently". (The Time.com article did not define 'frequently'.)
Over-50s have not left Chub Chat behind like a tattered poster on the dorm wall. We just smoosh it together with Old Talk, so now we say, "Oh god, I can't wear shorts anymore, my butt is the size of Cleveland".
But it's not just us, it's also
Is that chat really about weight? For mature women, I believe the focus on the number (scale or hang tag) is a diversion. We evade the examination of losses more troubling than our waistline: the shift of our identities as our work selves step off the stage, the infirmity of parents or beloved elders, or our own health concerns unrelated to body size, and a lot scarier.
Chub Chat is the woman's "How about those Canadiens?", a conversational gambit called "passtiming". And it's reflexive. I watched a film awards broadcast this winter and heard myself saying that Elizabeth Moss looked chunky in her red-carpet dress. Guilty!
I want to change. I'm not gonna snipe about someone (famous or not) who's bigger than she used to be, or envy the star who has remained sleek as a seal for forty years primarily for her stunning figure. (You're right, that's Helen Mirren.) Not gonna make self-deprecating remarks about my size or shape, the Girl Guide badge of Chub Chat. We learn early to put ourselves down.
In 1993 I read an essay, originally published in Harper's by Sallie Tisdale, "A Weight Women Carry" that changed my life, but obviously in a more minor way that I wished. Near the end, Tisdale writes, "The pursuit of another, elusive body...is a terrible distraction, a sidetracking that might have lasted my whole life long."
That's why I'm dumping Chub Chat: there is not all that much time left. Why be co-opted into anxiety about the precious, glorious, and inescapably imperfect human body?
When I meet Paula without my winter gear, she says, "You look terrific! Have you lost weight?" I reply, "Paula, I've been the same for five, six years." This ritual is such a sure thing that I'd bet $500 on it.
Paula cycles up or down a size or two, depending on whether she takes daily walks or burrows into her business. She's a conscious eater, but an unconscious Chub Chatter. She means well, but there's something in it that, uh, eats at me.
Chub Chat is either self-initiated criticism, e.g., "I'm an elephant in this skirt!", or a call-and-response, the compliment ("That top looks fabulous on you!)" answered by deprecation: "Yeah, but look at my back fat."
A paper published in the Psychology of Women Quarterly, and reported on Time.com, studied university women and found that "nearly all women engaged in fat talk with their friends, and over a third did so frequently". (The Time.com article did not define 'frequently'.)
Over-50s have not left Chub Chat behind like a tattered poster on the dorm wall. We just smoosh it together with Old Talk, so now we say, "Oh god, I can't wear shorts anymore, my butt is the size of Cleveland".
But it's not just us, it's also
- The salesperson who tells you that dress makes you look slim—and even if you like the other dress better, guess which one you're going to buy?
- The friend who mentions her weight every time you see her, so you automatically mention yours—even though you'd rather not
- Your sister: sees every ounce and will tell you so
- The bloggers who posts their OOTD and wonder, Does my (fill in body part) look big in this? I have only once read a commenter who had the candor to say, So what if it does?
Is that chat really about weight? For mature women, I believe the focus on the number (scale or hang tag) is a diversion. We evade the examination of losses more troubling than our waistline: the shift of our identities as our work selves step off the stage, the infirmity of parents or beloved elders, or our own health concerns unrelated to body size, and a lot scarier.
Chub Chat is the woman's "How about those Canadiens?", a conversational gambit called "passtiming". And it's reflexive. I watched a film awards broadcast this winter and heard myself saying that Elizabeth Moss looked chunky in her red-carpet dress. Guilty!
I want to change. I'm not gonna snipe about someone (famous or not) who's bigger than she used to be, or envy the star who has remained sleek as a seal for forty years primarily for her stunning figure. (You're right, that's Helen Mirren.) Not gonna make self-deprecating remarks about my size or shape, the Girl Guide badge of Chub Chat. We learn early to put ourselves down.
In 1993 I read an essay, originally published in Harper's by Sallie Tisdale, "A Weight Women Carry" that changed my life, but obviously in a more minor way that I wished. Near the end, Tisdale writes, "The pursuit of another, elusive body...is a terrible distraction, a sidetracking that might have lasted my whole life long."
That's why I'm dumping Chub Chat: there is not all that much time left. Why be co-opted into anxiety about the precious, glorious, and inescapably imperfect human body?
Comments
hugs,
Janice
self-destructive chatter?
Susan: It is an awkward moment when a friend finds her weight unacceptable, and you, the same proportion, are heavier. What if the heavier person is fine with it? It's only when we accept another' standards that the remark disturbs. It's tactless, but it points out how easily we are influenced by others' standards.
A friend was a costumer in the film industry. Two famous actresses had leads. One came for her fitting and felt great. Then the second one came, and took a smaller size. The first actress insisted on having her costumes altered to create more slimming effects; she was tiny, but could not stand to be seen as heavier by comparison.
The opposite applies too; I catch myself feeling pleased when my friend asks "Have you lost weight?" till I realize it's about her, not me.
However sometimes I very much enjoy discussing clothing because of the colours, the tailoring, the fabric. My mother was an excellent seamstress who even re-upholstered furniture, and made her own tailored suits. One fun aspect of living in Italy was that Italian men discuss clothing, tailoring and fashion as much as the women do!
It's embarrassing to think at the age of 69, I still care about an arbitrary number.
And through all this I've listened to women - tiny things go on about their hips or how they never eat fries etc. etc. - I found it insensitive - but I also understood how much pressure even they were under. That is my main observation - women have always been valued for their beauty - and as women entered more and more male dominated professions there had to be a way to "keep them in their place" and women always seem to be most vulnerable when it comes to their looks. So, celebration of the size 0 - photoshopped magazine covers, and the sexualization of even pre-teens. I want women to reject all this and recognize it for what it is but I also understand why they succumb.
I do think that we need to be healthy and that a lot of extra weight (not a bit more which may actually protect us) is unhealthy. But that should be something discussed with your doctor - not the Twitter world. We need to support and celebrate all our accomplishments - both personal and collective - and not bully or disparage other women, especially for their looks or specifically their weight. It's that old adage, you never know what tomorrow may bring, an accident, illness, pregnancy or menopause can all affect our physical appearance in ways we never imagined so we have to be more than that outer shell.
I love a good girly conversation as much as the next one and enjoy looking at new trends and colours (even though most won't come in my size) and I enjoy having my hair and nails done - but things like that shouldn't be the only thing that I think about or can converse about. We need to celebrate more female scientists and writers and educators and politicians and hold them up as role models, no matter what their size or appearance. If we don't stop disparaging each other (even in tiny ways) then why should any male out there value us for more than our bodies.
I resolve to keep my weight and accompanying struggles to myself, compliment other women on their promotion, or new style of dressing, or smile and to do my best to support and applaud the accomplishments of woman all around this world. I resolve to enjoy my food and not make it my enemy and I resolve to move a bit more every day simply because it makes me feel better and keeps me mobile - not because I MUST make those 10,000 steps or I've failed!
Thank you again for such a timely topic.
lagatta: Sometimes a woman's focus on the topic has no relationship to her actual size or shape! Other women, I think, really enjoy the confirmation that they are fitting within the cultural idea.
sgillie: Sane enough, indeed! I am grateful you put your recovery first.
MargiefromToronto: I still read articles on nutrition and weight, typically in the New York Times, and there is still little consensus but many persons commenting that their way is the only effective, healthy, longevity-ensuring, or weight-maintaining diet. What I have seen is that for some persons, weight loss is more difficult and for everyone, slower going as we get older. But because being in the obese category is generally detrimental to mobility, I am all for plugging away to have a healthy weight (which I agree may be more for older adults) so we can move and participate in the activities we enjoy.
materfamilias: Not having had daughters, I was less conscientious than you were, but I was also surprised how many boys were very focused on being thin. I do not think the culture has become more accepting of diverse sizes in the decades since then.
Jane: I hope I did that, but mostly, I recall not wanting them to buy into the model/movie star aesthetic. Fortunately they were in a school with a diverse population so they saw (and admired) girls from many ethnicities, not all of whom were thin- in fact quite a few were voluptuous.
I used to exclaim under my breath...well, Cancer looks good on me.
"Chub Chat" (I love the moniker!) has been a source of discomfort for me since my college days. For the most part, I just won't engage in in or encourage conversation that revolves around weight, needing to diet, needing to lose, the way we look, etc. I do have a very close friend who gets it, and with whom we can share our frustrations about staying in shape after a certain age, but the focus is on strength, balance, flexibility. And we do share our frustrations over the natural set point of our bodies inching up to a weight we're not thrilled about, but then we go right back to chat about books we've read and travel plans. And also why it's so hard to find comfortable, supportive yet attractive shoes at an affordable price :~).
I'm glad I recognized early on that Chub Chat was toxic for me, and I limit my time spent with women who love to indulge in it. And I am also glad that I've found such a wonderful group of virtual friends here, and through their own blogs, with whom I share similar outlooks!
Talking about clothes and makeup and girly things is different, and everyone, no matter what size, can look good in clothes. It is all about fit and proportion and color, and having fun
LauraH; I have a WW Lifetime Member card so old it is practically disintegrating. So, I am always aware of what I weigh, and weigh myself weekly. But what I've found in the last 10-15 yrs, is that my weight can stay constant but my body proportions change. I've lost an inch of height, and the distribution of weight has changed. I'd heard about that, but still it was a minor surprise.
Beth: Seems to me like you and other commenters know the difference between a discussion that is primarily about health and one that is self-castigating about weight. Still, I found myself in a kind of time-warp, co-opted into that conversation. Old pattern.
Adele: I notice I can cut it short when speaking to one person but sometimes actually •talk to myself• that way, and then wonder, Jeez, where did that come from? My mother and sister were not weight-obsessed, but they did feel entirely fine about assessing whether someone else had "packed on a few".
Mardel: Parental disapproval can really mess with a relationship. It sounds like they healed that rift? I hope so. I agree with your last sentence. If a woman feels shame or inadequacy because of her body, "having fun" evaporates, which is sad. This is what the size-acceptance movement has tried to change.
While we can exhaust our friends with our problems-especially if they are chronic- I hope (with intensity, because I need it) they will not fade if we say, "This is towing me under". And, that we be a friend to our selves.
And if they can't be present for us, we should say, "Who else? How else? What else?" A woman told me that in a crisis, she turned to members of her faith community, but, she said, "Everyone is so busy." In desperation, she called a hot line and they put her in touch with emergency mental health care. I was sad to hear it came to that, but also relieved she found some support.