I am the first to admit that there are some shows I like to call “guilty pleasures.” Why do I call them that? Well, it’s because they may not be the “best” thing on television but I find pleasure in watching it anyway. One of those shows to my surprise is called, Drop Dead Diva. The premise is dumb and the acting is less than stellar but I find enjoyment in it anyway. The show is about a plus size lawyer who dies and goes to heaven the same time that a pretty blonde model does. The model pushes a button to go back to earth and ends up in the body of the plus size lawyer. She retains her memories but is now suddenly very smart. I told you it was a dumb premise.
This past week the show was about the lawyer going into a fancy boutique to buy a dress she saw advertised. The problem came when the store didn’t carry anything above a size 10. She was treated “less than” because of her size and asked to leave. Being a lawyer she naturally sued them.
It reminded me of something that happened when I my daughter was visiting. We went to the mall. I was wearing my Wal-Mart special jeans, shirt and sneakers. My hair was up and I had very little make-up. I was comfortable. We were in Lord & Taylor. We passed by the fur coat area and I walked in to take a better look. A man came out from the back, took one look at me and when right back from which he came. I remembered feeling “less than.” I so wanted to have a Pretty Woman moment. I wanted to go buy a very expensive fur coat somewhere else, come back and let that man know he “blew it.”
Maybe I like the show because I have had a problem with my weight my whole life. There have been times when I was thin but mostly I shop in that “plus size” section of the store.
Whether I lose weight or not doesn’t matter. What matters is - do I feel good about who I am as a person? Am I less intelligent because of the section of the store I shop? Am I nicer? Am I less than because I can’t afford a fur coat? No. Hey, don’t get me wrong I would love to lose weight and afford that fur coat. But this I know, neither one defines who I am. I have a man who loves me and tells me everyday I am beautiful. That is worth more than money or a size 10 pair of jeans.
This particular guilty pleasure allowed me to take a look at myself and realize that I like me. I am blessed. How many guilty pleasures can you say that about?
© Nadine Zawacki 2009