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In the award-winning TV series, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, we meet a 25-year-old woman who has measured every part of her body every day for 15 years.  She has had two children but still weighs the same as she did on her wedding day. Her mother sees her in a nightgown in the middle of the night and asks, “What are you wearing?  It’s not thinning!” You see, Mrs. Maisel’s slenderness, attractiveness, and ability to be pleasing to her husband are the most valued qualities about her. I want to call out at the TV:  Hang in there, girl!  Little do you know, right around the corner we will have the women’s movement! Feminism! A woman running for president! By 2018, the appearance pressure will be completely gone!

Things were unbelievable in 1958, weren’t they? Thank goodness we don’t have to wear girdles and worry about our weight and attractiveness every day anymore!  Well, sure, we have Spanx now, which is actually a girdle with a cute name, but we don’t have to focus so much on thinness, right? Well, unless we follow fitness bloggers who will show us how to be perfect like them if we just eat kale convince us to purchase their 2-day juice cleanse for $87.99 + shipping and handling that we end up cheating on within the first 5 hours. Or unless we look at any social media or, actually, any media whatsoever. If we do, we can learn to boil our back fat with Bikram hot yoga or freeze our stomach rolls with cryotherapy. You can work out in a 105-degree room and the next day you can stand in a booth that is 300 degrees below zero. I’m not kidding. This is real. You can roast or freeze your fat off. $35 a session; $20 with a Groupon.   

Mrs. Maisel would be 85 years old now. Something must be better since my grandmother’s generation, right? Nope. Not even a little. Women had to watch their weight in 1958, but at least my grandmother didn’t need to get a Kylie lip plump or a Kim butt fat injection. She didn’t have to get a Blac Chyna rib removal. She didn’t need to have 2 oceans of Blake Lively waves to spill all over her shoulders and come to a golden rest around her waist. True, Grandma did have to wear a torture chamber pointy bra, but, still.

Women can be doctors, lawyers, engineers. We can get PhDs and own businesses. We can run for president. We can be an astronaut, but we still have to be Astronaut Barbie. We have to be Gastroenterologist Barbie; we can give you a colonoscopy in kitten heels and a cinched-waist lab coat. We may be smart and accomplished, but make no mistake: The Barbie part has more value than the Astronaut part. Sorry, Grandma. Sorry, Mrs. Maisel. We’re no better in 2018. At least our girdles have a cute name.

Passionate about people, food, and the Oxford comma. 
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