(I speak, you speak, we all speak...FASHION!!!)
F’row Word of the Week
Fa-at (fah-aaaat) n. 1. Fa-at, with its emphatic long ‘a’ sound is the extreme form of fat (with a short ‘a’). The sort that comes with too many Nice biscuits, and threatens curves and wobbly bits, as opposed to the sort that fashion editors pretend to be to make their assistants tell them they look “like, really, really thin” in that new Jasmine de Milo dress.
In hip-hop circles “phat” is a good thing, but believe you me fat is the enemy in Fashion Land, a place of such distorted reality that here Sophie Dahl will be forever tagged a “plus-sized” beauty (she may have shed kilos since she did that Opium ad but, hello, she’s just written a book about cooking pancakes so clearly she’s fa-at at heart). To be fa-at is to have lost the fashion battle. Fa-at is never in vogue.
Notes: The fashion hang-up up about fa-at is rooted in the fact that most of the Skinny Minnies recoiling in horror about normal body shapes are just really hungry, hence angry. And yet, despite the fact that more ordinary people are size 16 and over than ever before, the skinny fashion Minnie would rather starve to wear hotpants than shelve the shorts and have a nice pasta dinner.
For these gals plus is a minus; “SAMPLE” is the Holy Grail size, the size all fashionistas yearn to be, even as that seems to shrink each season. Gucci samples are reportedly so small these days that 14-year-olds can’t squeeze into them. But hey, even if you have to give up food for good, at least you won’t be FA-AT.
In conversation. Hints and tips for daily use:
1. On seeing Beth Ditto on the cover of Love magazine: “Woaaahhh! She is fa-at and fabulous. [In whining tone, while thinking angrily of contraband whip cream] No-one told me you could be both.”
2. On being ever so slightly too fat for Gucci and/ or fishing for a compliment about your size 8 arse: “Gawd, I’m so fat!” (Whereby fat has a short ‘a’.)
Your underlings should reply: “No way! You are so tiny. I wish I were that small.” Nuff said. Now you can move on and treat yourself – and your team – to a glass of water and a Ryvita.
3. On bumping into a frienemy who used to work in your fashion office and has suddenly fallen off the social circuit: “O. M. G!! Congratulations! We didn’t know you were expecting! Who’s the daddy? Or…are you just fa-at?”
Ouch. Pass the violet creams, I think I need a comfort eat.