Covering
I’m preparing myself for the frustration and overall sense of futility I assume will come once I finish Laura Kipnis’ latest book, The Female Thing: Dirt, Sex, Envy, Vulnerability
After reading Against Love I felt both “heck yeah” and “oh crap.”
It only follows that her current offering addresses the ambivalence that seems to stand between women and happiness. Kipnis is good at talking about phenomenon difficult to put into words, those ideas which don’t want to fully form, being created of things too nebulous, slippery, viscous and strong with surface tension.
And what does it say about me that I fixate on this cover and think, “she’s so thin, is the female in this photo eleven?” I might be a size two waste, but I have hips. Sheeze.
I do often judge books by their covers, proven by the fact that I am not extremely tempted by McSweeneys offerings until I see a prancing unicorn
I had to mention the skirt size because there is something wrong with clothing if I am a size 2 in the waste and (now) a size 8 or 10 in the curvy regions. I’ve gained weight from a steady habit of not running and not dancing or doing other kicking actions. Plus with the eating. I’ve done this twice before in my life, also during times of grinding academic studies and both times it was truly a phase, a side effect of prioritization. If all else fails, there’s always the school of burlesque and the study of grinding. In both past situations (my senior year of college and then my intensive institute at George Washington) it was followed by happy success and the shedding of old body covering. For now it’s sort of interesting to walk around in this body that feels like it’s wrapped in an extra layer. Is it protection? Is it preparation? My former TKD master used to say to one girl, when she’d get discouraged by her weight, “It’s just stored energy, what are you waiting for? Go!”
This energy will probably be needed where ever I end up.
*!* This has nothing to do with anything. Warm bunnies. Cold bunnies.
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