I was in Starbucks today. Tired and a bit grumpy, its the end of my working week and I decided I deserved a coffee. They have a policy of taking names. I really should just lie and call myself Anna or something, or Eric. No too late. "Kylie" I said.
The young, hip dude started to giggle "Really? Oh I love her so much, she's awesome". I smile thinking "look here smartarse just give me my coffee and no one gets hurt", waiting for the next line. Yep not to disappoint laughing boy says "oh do you wear the gold hot pants too?", giggling at the absurdity.
Yes, clearly, mate. My size 20-22 rear end just looks fantastic in hotpants not to mention my thighs that can be seen from the International Space Station and mistaken for the surface of the moon.
All I share with Ms Minogue is a name and an Aussie accent. We don't share a wardrobe. Sadly we don't share men either.
Growing up noone was called Kylie. There were no famous ones. Then in my teen years "she" appeared. Now what you have to remember is that when Kylie first appeared she wasn't the cool gay icon hanging off Michael Hutchence's arm or singing duets with Nick Cave. She was a dag. The singing budgie. With impossibly curly hair and dodgy choices in boyfriends (Jason anyone) and hair dos.When I first started working at a call centre everyone thought it was just hilarious my first manager was, of course, called Jason. It could only happen to me! He was also disappointed that I didn't look amazing in hotpants (no I didn't try)
I'm not overly bothered about my size. I have had lovely boyfriends and husbands (yep I'm on Mr Kykaree number 2). I've been pretty lucky to have been blessed with curves. I've fought my size, I've dieted, I've exercised, I've loathed my body, some days I still do. But other people seem to like it, and I'm just me. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't the shape I am.
However I am not defined by my size and I refuse to be made to feel inferior or ashamed, or be the butt (pun unintended) of gold hot pants jokes. I may look like a jolly fat person, but I have feelings too.
Yes my name is Kylie but it just could have easily been Nicole......Kidman anyone?
The young, hip dude started to giggle "Really? Oh I love her so much, she's awesome". I smile thinking "look here smartarse just give me my coffee and no one gets hurt", waiting for the next line. Yep not to disappoint laughing boy says "oh do you wear the gold hot pants too?", giggling at the absurdity.
Yes, clearly, mate. My size 20-22 rear end just looks fantastic in hotpants not to mention my thighs that can be seen from the International Space Station and mistaken for the surface of the moon.
All I share with Ms Minogue is a name and an Aussie accent. We don't share a wardrobe. Sadly we don't share men either.
Growing up noone was called Kylie. There were no famous ones. Then in my teen years "she" appeared. Now what you have to remember is that when Kylie first appeared she wasn't the cool gay icon hanging off Michael Hutchence's arm or singing duets with Nick Cave. She was a dag. The singing budgie. With impossibly curly hair and dodgy choices in boyfriends (Jason anyone) and hair dos.When I first started working at a call centre everyone thought it was just hilarious my first manager was, of course, called Jason. It could only happen to me! He was also disappointed that I didn't look amazing in hotpants (no I didn't try)
I'm not overly bothered about my size. I have had lovely boyfriends and husbands (yep I'm on Mr Kykaree number 2). I've been pretty lucky to have been blessed with curves. I've fought my size, I've dieted, I've exercised, I've loathed my body, some days I still do. But other people seem to like it, and I'm just me. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't the shape I am.
However I am not defined by my size and I refuse to be made to feel inferior or ashamed, or be the butt (pun unintended) of gold hot pants jokes. I may look like a jolly fat person, but I have feelings too.
Yes my name is Kylie but it just could have easily been Nicole......Kidman anyone?
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