Back when I Discovered Comics, Carol Lay's Story Minute became a major influence on how I thought about panel breakdowns and the pacing and size of stories you could tell in a comic.
She's got a new graphic novel out now. It's called "The Big Skinny: How I Changed My Fattitude". There's a sample chapter available.
My reaction: sad. Of course, people can do anything with their bodies that works for them, and people can write whatever books they want to and I don't have to read them, but a) I wish this not-very-interesting subject matter wasn't how an artist I admire was spending their time and creative energy, and b) her perspective on weight seems harsh and limiting to me.
For example, on page 7, panel 5 of the sample chapter, Lay tells us that her "default weight" seemed to be 160 (pounds), and "at 5'9" that was at least 30 pounds too much." She shows us pictures of her clothes pinching, ripping, and popping buttons. (I just really wanted to say to her, dude, it's okay to buy clothes that fit.) On page 10 she draws herself standing on a scale looking sad when she can't maintain a "zaftig" 137 pounds. On page 15, panel 5, she draws her "before" and "after" self, 158 pounds vs 123.
I feel like I should say again, Carol Lay's body is not subject to my approval; there is absolutely no reason in the world she should care at all about what I find appealing or attractive. But this seems to me to be a story about how she dieted herself down from an unremarkable weight to a very skinny weight, and to my eye she already looks great standing on that scale on page 10, as she draws herself. And if *she* loved her body at 158 as much as she does at 123, she could be spending pages 17-25 on something more fun and interesting than calorie counting and denial fantasies. So it makes me sad, that she's apparently poured 200 pages into promoting the Pursuit of Super-Skinniness.
(As it happens, I'm also 5'9", and I also "naturally" weigh something like 160 pounds - my depressed, "sitting around and eating too much vending machine junk and too little good food" weight (as of spring 2008) was something like 160-165, while my strong, active "hiking weight" (as of summer 2007) was about 150-155. I'm not sure how pregnancy will affect that long-term, but I really can't imagine any scenario in which I would want to weigh less than 150-155, and I don't really care if my new strong and active weight is higher, if I can in fact get back the strength and stamina. (Fitting into my old clothes would save money, but, as per above, I totally believe "clothes that fit" are a reasonable expense.) To me, on me, 125 pounds would be scary skinny, like, serious illness skinny, and I can't imagine looking good or feeling good at that weight. Carol Lay might have much lighter bones than I do, or be built very differently, or any number of things that invalidate my automatic comparison. But I will definitely not be reading a book that will tell me how I can "change my fattitude" and go from the left side to the right side of page 15, panel 5, even though it's by someone who used to be one of my favorite cartoonists.)
She's got a new graphic novel out now. It's called "The Big Skinny: How I Changed My Fattitude". There's a sample chapter available.
My reaction: sad. Of course, people can do anything with their bodies that works for them, and people can write whatever books they want to and I don't have to read them, but a) I wish this not-very-interesting subject matter wasn't how an artist I admire was spending their time and creative energy, and b) her perspective on weight seems harsh and limiting to me.
For example, on page 7, panel 5 of the sample chapter, Lay tells us that her "default weight" seemed to be 160 (pounds), and "at 5'9" that was at least 30 pounds too much." She shows us pictures of her clothes pinching, ripping, and popping buttons. (I just really wanted to say to her, dude, it's okay to buy clothes that fit.) On page 10 she draws herself standing on a scale looking sad when she can't maintain a "zaftig" 137 pounds. On page 15, panel 5, she draws her "before" and "after" self, 158 pounds vs 123.
I feel like I should say again, Carol Lay's body is not subject to my approval; there is absolutely no reason in the world she should care at all about what I find appealing or attractive. But this seems to me to be a story about how she dieted herself down from an unremarkable weight to a very skinny weight, and to my eye she already looks great standing on that scale on page 10, as she draws herself. And if *she* loved her body at 158 as much as she does at 123, she could be spending pages 17-25 on something more fun and interesting than calorie counting and denial fantasies. So it makes me sad, that she's apparently poured 200 pages into promoting the Pursuit of Super-Skinniness.
(As it happens, I'm also 5'9", and I also "naturally" weigh something like 160 pounds - my depressed, "sitting around and eating too much vending machine junk and too little good food" weight (as of spring 2008) was something like 160-165, while my strong, active "hiking weight" (as of summer 2007) was about 150-155. I'm not sure how pregnancy will affect that long-term, but I really can't imagine any scenario in which I would want to weigh less than 150-155, and I don't really care if my new strong and active weight is higher, if I can in fact get back the strength and stamina. (Fitting into my old clothes would save money, but, as per above, I totally believe "clothes that fit" are a reasonable expense.) To me, on me, 125 pounds would be scary skinny, like, serious illness skinny, and I can't imagine looking good or feeling good at that weight. Carol Lay might have much lighter bones than I do, or be built very differently, or any number of things that invalidate my automatic comparison. But I will definitely not be reading a book that will tell me how I can "change my fattitude" and go from the left side to the right side of page 15, panel 5, even though it's by someone who used to be one of my favorite cartoonists.)