The Fat Lady Sings

On the persistence of fatphobia, Lindy West's Adult Braces, body positivity, and GLP-1s

We were at a fancy party, my wife Debbie and I. We got dressed up and took a car uptown. At the venue, we shuffled along the step and repeat, blinking into the flashing lights. I did a brief interview with People Magazine and then we got drinks and sidled our way through the dense crowd of people enthusiastically exchanging small talk. I don’t normally go to these types of events, but I thought it might be nice to have an evening out. We assumed it was a dinner because the invitation detailed a three-hour event, during typical dinner hours, at a restaurant. It turns out it was a cocktail party, with passed hors d’oeuvres and a very open bar. It was a nice time. I got to talk with Andy Cohen, always fun, and Broadway director Whitney White, who was kind enough to visit my cultural criticism class last semester after I took my students to see her play Liberation on Broadway. We people watched and smiled at strangers and around 8:30, decided to head home.

In front of the restaurant, an older woman with shoulder-length salt and pepper hair, sat cross-legged on a large planter, wearing gold lamé ballet flats, louche and disheveled, and smoking unabashedly. Debbie casually remarked that the cigarette smoke smelled amazing, which it did. We both inhaled deeply. At that, the older woman took it upon herself to strike up a conversation with us. She was French… very French and she shared that she used to smoke three packs a day but was now down to one pack a day. We commended her on her discipline. She offered us a drag on her cigarette, which we declined. We chatted for a few more minutes, and then as our car pulled up, we started walking away. I was a few steps ahead when the older woman said, in that thick French accent dripping with casual disdain, “You really should exercise more.”