Monday, July 16, 2007

Notes from the Con – Day One

(Being a series of undigested thoughts and impressions from this humble writer’s recent attendance at the 2007 National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance size acceptance convention in Rosemont, Illinois.)

Thursday Afternoon

We arrive at the 2007 convention on a Thursday afternoon, unsure how many folks we’ll be seeing at the event. Both my wife and I were personally more active in NAAFA over ten years ago – even helmed a short-lived Central Illinois chapter for a time – but we both became burned out during a period of organizational/political upheaval. Though we’ve kept in touch with friends from the Chicago chapter in particular, it’s been several years since we’ve even attended an upstate chapter event. We do know that the number of the national organization’s chapters has shrunk significantly since its peak.

I can’t help feeling cheered when we walk into the Crowne Plaza Hotel lobby, however, and I see a striking super-sized redhead standing by the Atrium. We’re at the right place, at least!

One of our friends from Chicago NAAFA, Dave J. (who once had a cameo as a caterer in an early story of mine) has spied us at the registration desk, so he pops down to let us know where the action it. We head down to the hotel’s Lower Level – where registration, hospitality and the workshops are set – then briefly pop into one of the workshops where Dave’s pear-shaped wife Becky J. is doing some polymer clay sculpture. The fat lady piece she makes for her hubby is quite bottom-heavy. Becky J. definitely knows her spouse. . .

Thursday Evening

First formal event that we attend is the ever-popular fashion show: where NAAFAn women of all sizes and ages get to cat walk in clothing provided by con vendors. As OakHaus Designs, we’ve come to try and do some selling: jewelry that my lovely wife has created, a booklet of her romantic fiction, postcards and a new issue of the Wilson Barbers Newsletter are our primary wares. Two hours before the fashion show, we run into one of the clothing vendors on the elevator, and she brings up the possibility that some of Becky’s jewelry could be worn as accessories in the show. We hadn’t even thought of that. We quickly rush back to our room to retrieve some necklaces and bring them down to the woman who’s coordinating the event.

Unfortunately, when the show itself takes place, none Becky’s jewelry gets used. Since at least one of the other vendors is selling vintage jewelry, the shut-out makes sense, but it still feels a bit like we’re Ugly Betty trying to beak into the insular world of fashion mags. It’s an undeniable kick to watch the show, though.

I also get to briefly talk to Kristie Agee, the BBW r-&-b singer who does a brief singer-w./-backing-tracks set during a break in the show. As a lover of size-themed blues (Bullmoose Jackson’s “Big Fat Mamas Are Back in Style Again,” Howlin’ Wolf’s “Built for Comfort,” etc.), I’m in my element. Beats hearing the umpteenth replay of “Fat-Bottomed Girls,” to my ears at least, and, besides, Miz A. has brought Chick Willis, a songwriter with several fine leering plus-sized anthems to his credit, to my attention. We buy a copy of the singer’s CD, Use What You Got, after the show.

Last event of the day is a late nite private pool party: lots of very large women - and a few men - romping in the hotel pool. Quite a sight. While water is a very fat-friendly element, most public swimming areas aren't, so unless they've got a private pool or a whole lotta chutzpah, many super-sized adults don't take advantage of the Waterworld. Though we’re feeling more than a little weary from the drive up, we go to the event since, well, since we paid for it.

While there, my wife and I run into a reporter for salon.com who’s covering the event. You always feel more than a little wary when a member of the mainstream press – even one as generally liberal in its focus as Salon – is on the scene.* Fat acceptance has a knack for bringing out the condescending concern troll as well as the just plain snarky in even the “best” progressive writers. (After all, at the moment, we're standing on the edge of a pool that has very fat women wearing two-pieces cavorting within it – keep the jag-offs from Fat Women in Hats away!) We’ll have to see how it goes.

*After posting the above, I went to Salon and found a new alarmist piece (you may need to click thru an ad to read it) positing that plastic containers might be responsible for our nation's so-called "obesity epidemic."

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