How Anna Nicole Smith Set Me Straight (a/k/a Cheryl Tiegs Can Shut Up Any Time Now)

This is another "bear with me" post.

So, Cheryl Tiegs criticized Ashley Graham for being a successful and gorgeous size 14 model and landing Sport Illustrated because her appearance "glamorizes" a supposedly unhealthy example. Because she believes Ms. Graham should have a waistline less than 35 inches (which she does, actually - 30 inches according to some sources, so way to pay attention, Cheryl).

Cheryl Tiegs' first statement made her sound willfully ignorant. Her second "clarifying" statement on the matter sealed it with superglue that she is willfully ignorant, and suffering from some serious "thin privilege." She stated that she just wants everyone to be healthy, noting that anorexic, bulimic, and overweight people are not healthy. Why is this ignorant? Well, you could say something was either inappropriately added to or missing from her incredibly bad attempt at back pedaling.

What's superfluous (if you want to go that route)? "Overweight," because she's first listed two legitimate medical conditions and equated them to weight that may or may not cause, or be a symptom of, a health condition. What's missing (if you want to go that route instead)? I'll tell you what's missing - underweight. And it has risks, too.

However, Ms. Tiegs, who at 5'10" and 120 pounds (I'll even go as high as 123, per this source) was technically underweight at the peak of her modeling career, benefitted from her small size (please, someone tell me that wasn't popular in the 1970s and 1980s so I can laugh in your face) so of course she would never have seen it as an issue.

Let's do some math. Per the height/weight chart I linked earlier, Cheryl is/was 9 pounds under the lowest weight in her 5'10" range. By the same chart, Ashley is 8 pounds over the highest weight in her 5'9" range. I know from personal experience that those weight ranges can be bull$hit (see below), so I'm certainly not going to hold either of them to it.

Yes, both underweight and overweight can be dangerous. But at the same time, they can both also be healthy. Seriously. For example, even though I fight fibromyalgia, I have consistently beautiful blood pressure, stellar overall cholesterol levels, and the good cholesterol levels of someone who spends two hours a day in the gym. And I'm beyond overweight and somewhere six states over from obesity.

While researching for this post, I found an article where Ms. Tiegs mentioned she once got as high as 170 pounds. She says, "I was not at a healthy weight for someone like me." That's right, Cheryl. For someone like you. For someone like me, 170 pounds is uncomfortably underweight.

I have a deep and abiding lack of patience for willful ignorance, and that's what Cheryl Tiegs has consistently displayed throughout this whole kerfluffle (kerfluffle is a seriously underused word, by the way). She's taking what worked for her and, intentionally or not, projecting it onto the rest of the world. She doesn't want to know what's good for anyone else, she's just going to slap onto everyone what's good for her. And that projection, that willful ignorance, that narrow-minded type of role model, was what made my younger life hell. All I saw in the 1980s were super skinny models and actresses, it felt like every girl and young woman in the world weighed 120 pounds tops, I had well-meaning people (friends' parents even) tell me, "You have such a pretty face, if only you were thinner..."

And I focused on those height and weight charts like you wouldn't believe. I remember in the late 1980s the height and weight chart said I should weigh, top range, 165. And I fixated on that f*cking number, never ever, even once, being able to reach it. My freshman year of college, I got to a point where I barely ate, passed out in choir, managed to wriggle into a size 10 skirt and blouse (although everything else I owned was a 12), and still weighted 167 pounds. That number haunted me because it was 2 f*cking pounds too much. And of course, it wasn't sustainable. I started putting on weight.

My first semi-wake up call (it honestly didn't fully kick in until my early 30s, but the first cracks appeared here) came via Anna Nicole Smith getting tapped to model for Guess Jeans. I was no longer at "fainting weight" (which should never ever be an actual thing). I miserably went home one weekend and Mom put that Sunday's Parade magazine down in front of me, and there on the cover was an article about Anna Nicole Smith. "Look, she's a size 14, like you, she has the same measurements as you. And she's a model."

And I then had something to cling to, someone who finally made me feel like I might be almost normal. Unfortunately, I was still an unsure, awkward, anxiety-ridden kid, and while it made a crack, it didn't completely break down the crappy self-esteem wall.

That wall didn't fall completely until my early 30s. I lost so much weight that I'd lie down and feel like my shoulder blades were cutting through my skin. And I still weighted 172, still wore a size 12, sometimes a 14. My first marriage had ended and I wanted to be the best role model possible for my then 4-year-old daughter, so I was doing a lot of self-reflection. And there it was, I finally realized that this was me, and it was more than okay, it was awesome. I purposefully put on three more pounds so I'd be more comfortable. There it was - at 175 my back pain was still controllable but my weight wasn't uncomfortably low. I felt great. And I realized I'd settled in at a clothing size slightly smaller than the Guess model who'd made me finally start feeling like I might be beautiful about a decade earlier.

And this is what I looked like at 175, 10 pounds over what the stupid 1980s weight chart wanted me to be. And I felt amazing.



*Me, being amazing in my 30s

What the hell was I thinking In my teens and 20s, thinking that some stupid number or ideal overruled what I was?

That's another reason why I'm reveling in my now. Am I in fibro pain? Yeah. But do I feel awesome otherwise? Hell yeah. You've been reading this blog, right? I feel awesome. I look awesome. I am awesome.



*Me, being awesome last Thursday.

I tell my daughter to never focus on a number, focus on where you feel like you glow and your body feels like a good fit. That's all that matters.

I'm sure Ashley Graham feels great. And she damned well better, she's incredibly beautiful and confident and so stunning it's not fair. I'm sure Cheryl Tiegs feels good, and good for her, because it works for her. Hell, look up Tess Holliday, that woman is achingly beautiful, as well as a size 22 supermodel, and it so very works for her.

Cheryl Tiegs, however, and so many others like her, need to stop forcing their ideals regarding "health" on others. Ashley Graham is no more unhealthy for weighing 170 than Cheryl Tiegs is for weighing 120.

In the meantime, I hope that Ashley Graham on the cover of Sports Illustrated or Tess Holliday in some ad campaign helps some young girl or mature woman go, "Hey, we wear the same size," and that the girl or woman realizes that generally being awesome is the most beautiful thing ever.

And if we could just all stop judging each other based on size now, that would be f*cking lovely.

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