If there's one thing that should bond us women together, it's our cellulite.
SAY WHAT?! Yeah, I said it. Since nobody one else will!
80-95% of us have it (depending on which study you choose believe is most accurate.) That's a higher instance of commonality than anything else we as ladies share.
Marital status, skin color, education, tax bracket... the only thing we women have most in common is undeniably our cellulite. So why don't we ever talk about it?
Because it's a gross part of life that we'd like to forget is there.
So, no, don't worry... I won't be trying to work cellulite into everyday conversation. (Got that, readers who actually know me personally? There's no need to dodge into the nearest doorway/elevator/house plant the next time you see me coming.) We're going to keep this to a one-time thing between you, me and the internet. As it should be.
How many of you pick up the annual Cellulite Issue of that tabloid that you normally despise? I admit, I've never actually purchased these issues (just can't bring myself to feed the beast), but I've definitely sneaked a peek in the checkout line or if I find a loose copy left lying around the lunchroom.
Obviously, the tabloid magazines that make big bucks from their annual Cellulite Editions are doing it for the wrong reason. They're officially in the business of knocking celebrities off of their pedestals and bent on ruining the lives of the privileged by whatever means ethical or not. (Sidenote: That's why I've cropped all faces, captions and identifying features from the "backside" photos I've used here. It was done without their permission the first time around. I'm not about to be the repeat offender.)
But, let me tell you what I personally get out of peeking: The relief that we're all just as sexy as one another.
If I would have captioned the accompanying pics, you may have been shocked to learn that these lumpy ladies being crucified in the tabloids are the same ones gracing the "Most Beautiful" covers of other publications. The same bombshell airbrushed in the swimsuit issue may be the next one featured on the cellulite edition's cover.
Go figure! Even movie stars and divas are a part of the 95% of us. We really do have something in common after all! (And, those remaining 5% probably either lied during the survey process or are a part of the under-21 demographic. They're not fooling us!)
My cellulite story started at a very young age. Probably early teens. That's when I started wearing swimsuits with skirty bottoms because I was one of the first of my peers to enter this passage of womanhood. (Why couldn't the boobs have come first?!)
 |
| See, it does come on arms. Even celebrity hottie ones! |
It started on the butt and upper thighs, like it always does, and slowly crept it's way down past the knees over the following three decades. As I get closer to 40, I'm finding it sneaks up in the most unexpected places like, Ack! My calves? What?! My arms! I wouldn't be surprised if my ears were next.
There's different kinds of cellulite, too. My personal brand is "skinny girl's cellulite". I've always been tall and small-boned, so unfortunately my cottage cheese has nowhere to blend within normal womanly curves. It just stands at attention, grasping to my skin as if it were in fear of falling off. (Little does it know, I'd be perfectly fine with it falling off!)
I've learned to dress to camouflage, but the "skinny girl" blend always gets the biggest reaction. People don't expect you to have it, because you look so "normal" when fully dressed. So, when that first trip to the beach, pool, spa, store dressing room with us catches them off guard, it is usually met with screams and stares. (Screams from the small children who don't know any better and stares from the shocked adults who are trying their darnedest to feign unfazed.)
In the winter, it's easy to forget about because we're covered up, shivering and forgetting to shave. (What? You're not from around here? You have to shave year-round? So sorry to hear...) But, the weather will eventually turn warmer and the cycle begins again.
I'll buy a new pair of shorts that looked surprisingly great in the dressing room, but the truth is soon revealed in my obscenely well-lit bathroom. Swimsuit season jiggles in to greet us and I'm in a mad dash to find the last pair of swim-shorts in my size. No more string bikinis here!
But, then the latest Celebs with Cellulite issue is released to save me just in time. I can peek, feel at home with my famous fellow 95%-ers and be lifted back out of my shame spiral.
What else are you gonna do? There is no cure. Yeah, there's expensive creams and treatments that really don't work. The latest trend being caffeinated lotions. I've considered trying a poor girl's version of rubbing Folgers Crystals around on my thighs, out of curiosity, but it just seemed too messy. Besides, if I did find a way to make it disappear then what would we all have to bond over?
So, why did I post this? Some of you are probably saying this in your head, or aloud to one another as you snicker and judge me. If you haven't figured the answer to that question out yet, take a look at your own backside. I know I'm not the only one who takes a spin on the self-pity tilt-a-whirl this time of year. Misery loves company and so does cellulite. We're all in this together... at least 80% of of us. The rest of you can go eat a burrito while we join hands and ♫ We shall overcome...♫
If you take away nothing else, at least take away this: When you're people-watching at the beach this summer, don't gag and make jokes at others like the tabloid do. Remember that you're most likely sitting on a similar lump of Jello. When you catch your boyfriend or husband ogling the latest chick on the Maxim cover, don't get down, feel free to point out that if he flipped her over, odds are, she's as lumpy as you are.
If you made it this far, and you're a daring soul... I'm not letting myself off the hook that easily. Since I've exploited the backs-of-thighs of the rich and famous, it's only fair that I exploit my own. Below, I give you:
My Cellulite.
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
**********SCROLL**********
You're welcome!
(And, yes, macaroni and cheese was consumed during the making of this post. It was GOOD!)
No comments:
Post a Comment