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Quit F**king Calling Christina Hendricks Fat

By Courtney Enlow | Celebrity | August 31, 2010 |

By Courtney Enlow | Celebrity | August 31, 2010 |

We need to have a talk.

Obviously, the overwhelming majority of the Pajiban world would stab a kitten if it meant they could be in the same room as Christina Hendricks. That’s fine. Then there are those who find her overrated. And that’s fine, too. Then there are the dickwaffles who insist on calling her fat every single time she’s mentioned.

Now I expect this from your I Don’t Like You In That Way’s, or from that dumb twat at The Skinny, but this is Pajiba. We’re supposed to be better than that. And when it happened in the Emmys post, I decided it needs to be discussed.

Christina Hendricks is not the typical Hollywood beauty. This is an understatement. She is curves and boobs and her thighs touch, and when she wears a strapless bra while riding in the car she probably feels backfat rolls (I’m not the only one, right?). And that is why those who love her, love her. She’s different. She’s not January Jones, thank fucking God.

If you look at her, she’s not fat. She suffers from decepti-tits. I have friends who suffer from this same condition. When a girl has enormous breasts, the illusion is given that she is proportionate, whether or not she really is. If you look at Hendricks’s collar bones, they are very prominent, meaning she’s certainly not overly fleshy.

This is my opinion, but let’s ignore it, because making excuses and explaining why she isn’t fat is a) implying there’s something wrong with how she looks, b) there’s something wrong with being “fat”, and c) that the word fat has come to mean “not thin.”

Sadly, point C is certainly true. I wear a size 8 jeans (6 at the Gap - little victories) and usually small shirts. I am 5’2”. I’m basically built like a wine bottle; small up top, then things get a bit out of hand. But I like this. I’m comfortable with this. And I’ve gotten few complaints.

My fiance works with this guy. God, I don’t even know how to explain him. He’s a walkin’ talkin’ stereotype. He is a Jersey Shore person. He has spiky stupid hair, and he’s orange, and he’s all muscles and Facebook statuses about benching shoulders or whatever. He called me fat. And he said it like I truly disgusted him. And I realized that if I were to run into one of those Jersey Shore chode garglers, they’d probably call me a grenade or whichever word they say that means “horrific fat pig lady of 130+ pounds.” And that sucks.

Sure, we smart people can look at Christina Hendricks and say “of course she’s not fat,” but look at the shit people say about Jessica Simpson. Britney Spears. Kelly Clarkson. Yes, they are gurthier than their fellow celebrities. But they’re not exactly Gilbert Grape’s mom.

We are living in a world in which the youth culture has been born of the Weight Watchers generation. Many of us grew up with our moms or other women in our lives obsessing about points and counting calories, we had no choice but to become fixated. And when we watched people hate themselves for not being perfect, we learned new words that could hurt ourselves and others. Fat, ugly, these are hateful words that have become so commonplace that they’ve lost whatever meaning they are supposed to have, to everyone but the person they’re being said about.

Call her thick. Call her not your type. But she’s not fucking fat.

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