Clothes

Clothes: (n) items worn to cover the body.

“The clothes make the man.” Unless she’s a woman.

Why do the clothes make anything?

Here’s the truth: ¬†clothes look very good on people who would look very good without them.

If you do not look very good without clothes, draping cloth over you does not do a lot to jazz your appearance.

It can communicate wealth. I suppose it can pass along the image of style. But if you look fairly rotund without clothing, clothing is like putting drapes on a wide window.

People who are slender can put on a suit and look very proficient and businesslike. People who are portly always have to worry about whether they should unbutton the coat when they sit, for fear of launching a button.

Women who are lean can wear a dress and make it look pretty much look like the hanger it was hung upon, while women who are more “Greek” in their shape can take a perfectly lovely dress and make it appear very broad at the beam.

We are happy to wear clothes simply because they hide a multitude of fleshly sins. Yet there is no outfit that can completely disguise what lies within.

I’ve spent a lot of money on clothes and I’ve spent a little money on clothes–and at the end, the tally was, “what you see is basically what you get.”

 

 

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Chubby

Chubby: (adj) plump and rounded.

Please do not feel the need to grab your thesaurus when describing me.

I am not portly.

I am not rotund.

I am not big-boned.

I don’t have a healthy appetite.

I’m fat.

And as painful as the word may be, and as many different negative associations it carries, it is still better than “chubby.”

Chubby removes all possibility of being masculine.

Babies are cute and chubby.

Furry animals are chubby.

Things that are cute are dubbed chubby so we do not have to comment on their rolls of blubber.

In the pursuit of gentle phrasing, nobody’s feelings are spared. Only the speaker feels self-righteous about placating through terminology.

I’m too old to be chubby.

I’m too manly to be chubby.

I’m too fat to be chubby.

Chubby things are acceptably fat, yet fat things are not acceptably chubby.

I don’t want to be a chub, so I certainly don’t want to be chubby.

So as painful as it may be to my ears, I am more comfortable being referred to as a “fat person” instead of a man who has “a big body to hold his big heart.”

 

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