TINY WAIST? ME? Are you kidding me?
I was cleaning out some boxes the other day and came across this picture. Forget what is going on in the picture. Forget the dress, the long hair, the tiara. (For the record, it's not that hard to become Homecoming Queen in P-town...and it doesn't hurt if your dad is the head football coach.) No, let's just look for a moment at that waistline. How did it ever get that small? I do remember when the dress came back after being altered, it was a bit tight. I must have been bulking up for the big day because the dress wouldn't zip when I tried it on a week before I was to prance around the football field for all of P-town to observe. I also distinctly remember starving myself all week before Homecoming, only eating grapes and saltine crackers in order to squeeze into said dress.
Do you know what would happen now if I ate nothing but saltines and grapes? Me either, because it would never happen unless someone told me they would take my children away unless I could wear a size 6 dress, but let's just pretend for a second. Besides the occasional fainting that most certainly would occur, I imagine there would be a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth. I envision my husband suddenly having to work late every night and the children huddling in the corners of their rooms. I see myself slipping in and out of consciousness, seeing the grapes and crackers as Snickers and pizza and then screaming like a banshee when the truth set in. It wouldn't be a good situation.
But back to 1989. From what I recall, I was as pleasant as any 17-year-old. Possibly more pleasant considering I was Homecoming Queen and probably very proud of it. I think I was happy to be starving myself because it was for a good cause. The most important of all causes back then...vanity and popularity.
Frankly, I'll take my love handles, sagging boobs and cottage cheese behind over that skinny girl any day. I have a life now.
Oh jeez, isn't this what every computer nerd says when they realize they are no longer attractive enough to "play" in the real world, so they spend their days hiding behind a monitor?
Uh oh. Maybe I'll eat just a few grapes. And a little less pizza. :)