My Guide to Radical Lusciousness

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belindaBy Belinda Carroll, PQ Monthly
I am a rotund, Rubenesque, zaftig, brickhouse kinda girl with more “back†than “baby†owned, and I have had the occasional wayward fat girl come to me woefully and lament that they can't find anything to wear, nothing flatters them, and they may as well go out in yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Let me tell you, pumpkin butt, nothing makes your ass look more like a dairy case (hiding your delicious, beautiful curves) like terry cloth, knit cotton, or a partner who doesn't understand that we are queens and should be treated as such. Take it from me, the only way to celebrate your glorious poundage in proper form is to wear clothing that makes you feel like the va-va-va-voom that you are, and find a lover who thinks that every inch of you should be bronzed and put on display. You may be thinking, my sweet, that you are the exception. You are sorely mistaken. Even if you are the kind of girl who prefers Tivas to Prada, or a well-pressed trouser to a flowing gown made of rhinestones—that is no reason to look like you just got out of bed, or worse, that you just finished baling hay just in time to hit the club. Unless of course, the “hayseed†look is all the rage in your town. Then do it up. If I had to give you one piece of advice, it would be your own winning attitude is the best pretty-maker money can buy. If you don't have a good personality, self-medicate. It worked for Elizabeth Taylor. A positive attitude is the one accessory that no fat girl on the make should be without. Now, you may be the queen of owning a room, and if you are I say, “Let's go have drinks and be fabulous.†If, on the other hand, you are the kind of girl that wonders how to win friends and influence people, I want you to do a little exercise with me. No, not that kind of exercise—you didn't even buy me dinner. However, let's roll back those shoulders, take a good long look at yourself in the mirror and conjure up everything you love about yourself. Is it your angelic face, your dimples, or your incredible way of making a quiche using nothing but eggs and string? No matter. Make a list—a litany if you will—of things that are fabulous about you. Focus on the large (my bubble-butt), or the small (I have rather adorable thumbs), of what makes you want to date you. You and only you can know how incredible you are and convey that information to others. I want you to take that list, hang it up where you can see it, and add to it every day. Before going to socialize, to a job interview, or to go see Aunt Harvey who always comments on your thighs—I want you to memorize and recite that list like you are Harry Potter and that list is the spell that will keep Voldemort at bay. Sometimes, my little butter blossom, you have to take life by the love-handles and create change. Whether that is getting rid of an old tired hairstyle or changing the ability to melt into a wall without anyone noticing, sometimes it's necessary to step out of that teeny tiny box you call your life and find out there are people who think that a size 16 ass, a corset, and a pair of fishnets is a damn good time. Add that to the list: You are a damn good time. We've all heard the cliché "all you have to do is be yourself"—and immediately wanted to burn the person at the stake because they are feeling superbly self-righteous and giving you unwanted advice. While this may seem like the same thing, I beg you not to recast me as Joan-Of-Arc just yet. Because, butterbean, as unbelievable as it is, Yours Truly has also felt the wrath of an outfit gone horribly awry, the dying breath of my social life, or the horror that my skirt has blown over my head and it's laundry day; and I had to convince myself that I would live again to be smashing. The key to being 100%, lovably you, is to embrace not only your gifts from heaven, but also your dork-tastic bumps and bruises. Because nothing says fantabulous like self-acceptance. One of the things I have learned over the years: While I think that the fact I bray like a mule in heat when I laugh is something that should be kept secret, like a third nipple, someone else may think that's it's the most musical sound in the world. I ignore the fact that that person is probably tone-deaf.