Cats: thinking about fat and beauty

We do not care for scrawny cats.

Think about it. While there are artistic renditions of sleek, super slender felines, such images are limited. We prefer to see our cats plump.  There is always something disturbing, dangerous, even evil about a thin cat.

Go ahead. Search for images. Simply searching for "cat" will return pages of pleasantly plump felines.  You have to hunt for thin cats. Search for "thin cats" and you will pull up more pictures of tights than cats. "Skinny cats" returns more pictures of massively obese cats than anything else. Search "evil cats" and you'll find a mix of cats with Photoshopped laser eyes and (finally!) a handful of cats who are on the bony side.

We do not care for scrawny cats. We love how chunky cats move, how they fill their space. The soft curves. The comforting weight and bulk as we hold them. In cats, we adore the sleek play of muscle, muscle under fat. Cats are a wonderful mascot for the concept of fit and fat.

There are days I look at all of the images of super thin women and see how they are exalted. Thin often seems to be the only thing that matters, aesthetically.  It hurts as it is something I can never be. I know my body. I could never be model thin. I have curves. I have bigger bones than some models appear have arms and legs. It can be hard to remember that that is not the only vision of beauty available to modern eyes. It is easy to feel like finding anything other than an appreciation of whipcord thin requires searching through deviants or going back in time.

Thinking on cats provides a balance for me.  Helps me remember that we Photoshop fat back onto models because even on them we crave the sleekness provided by fat.  That we tend to crave lush curves when we think sexy instead of beauty. It lets me understand how I can be beautiful to the man who loves me, while being MUCH larger than a size 2.  It allows me enjoy my body enough to experience it, to move it, to work it instead of treating it as a burden to be ignored as much a possible.

We need a multitude of ideals.  A plethora of options and values.  It is easy for us to get stuck on an idea that there is only one version of right and good and true and everything else can be judged, valued, by its distance from that ideal. I catch myself falling into that trap at times.  Sometimes I question my value as a person, as a member of society, purely because of my weight. I wonder if I can contribute anything, be taken seriously, or if being fat will be used as a reason to dismiss everything I offer.  And so I  remind myself that we do not care for scrawny cats.