Anorexic gazelles and other creatures in need of help...

I went to a Fashion Week runway show for the first time in my almost 20 years in New York.  

I'm glad I waited.

For one thing, I totally didn't care that compared to most of the spectators there, not to mention the models, I am morbidly obese.  Meaning, I wear a size 8.  15 years ago, I would have run home from the show, made a bee-line for my bathroom and proceeded to regurgitate every evil morsel of food that had crossed my lips in the last 24 hours.  Of course, it could be that I'm just lazier than I used to be...

My mothering instincts also kicked in.  My boys are very healthy and active; I even manage to occasionally get some vegetables in them.  But as most mothers will tell you, getting your kids to eat more good stuff is, like, a full-time job.  So when those girls strutted by me, made taller and skinnier by five-inch heels and flowing clothes, what I really longed to do was have them all over for a huge, Brasilian meal.  And then follow them home to make sure they kept it down.  

In fact, what these girls need is a sanctuary, like that one down in Tennessee that takes in injured circus elephants.  They would be free to roam and graze at their leisure, out of sight of preying clothing designers intent on turning the models into human coat racks, all sharp corners and hooked limbs.  

Now I just have to come up with a good pitch for fundraising calls...