Standing next to supermodels

It sounds like a nightmare, doesn’t it?

Having to stand next to a supermodel.

What could be worse that being side by side with a leggy blond or brunette with perfectly symmetrical features and cheekbones that could cut wood?

I personally try not to follow too many fashion models on Instagram because it’s bad for my mental health and self image.

I try to follow curve models.

They have curvy butts and thighs and sometimes even a soft belly.

It’s comforting to me to see women with body types like my own.

It makes me feel like less of an unlovable freak and more like a beautiful woman.

I’m not sure beauty magazines understand the impact they have on young women growing up when all they promote within their pages are size 0 models.

It’s a 445 BILLION dollar industry based on convincing women that they need this lipstick, dress, purse, face cream, etc, in order to be beautiful.

I am reminded of a line in “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)” that goes something like this:


Beauty magazines are in the business of making beautiful women feel ugly.

When I was younger I loved beauty magazines.

I used to subscribe to several of them and I’d comb through the pages of the magazine picking out makeup, clothes, and accessories that I really wanted.

It gave me a little thrill.

Now, it makes me shudder.

And yet, I am a beauty consumer of the first water.

A VIB Sephora member.

A Platinum member of ULTA.

And I’ll be damned if I don’t also buy makeup from Milani, Beautylish, and elf.

If the amount of makeup we buy is proportional to how ugly we feel inside, then what do my spending habits say about me????

God, there’s a frightening thought.


This post has been a long time coming.

I’ve been putting it off and putting it off.

But after SoulFire?  No more.

First, I got this picture sent to me that I took at SoulFire:

0057v-PUBThen I found this one on the SoulFire photographer’s website:

IMG_9831And I have to say, I was SHOCKED at my appearance.

I didn’t recognize myself.

I literally did double and triple takes.

And now I’m quite certain that the reason why I am so incredibly, definitively single is because I happen to also be incredibly, definitively FAT.

There, I said it.

I can’t stand to look at myself.

I want to take a Sharpie and write “UGLY” on my forehead.

Deep breath.

I know I shouldn’t post this.  I’m scared of the reactions I’m going to get from people who read this blog.

They’ve been reading unblunder thinking I’m pretty because I post only flattering pictures of myself.

Well, it’s just not so.

I’m FAT.

Horribly, unforgivably, unloveably FAT.