I’ve long felt that women were more concerned with their bodies than men were. Obviously, us menfolks do love and appreciate the female form in all of its splendor and glory. It’s the reason why emergency rooms are filled with men who have whiplash from the quick motion of “hindparts watching,” a ritual started sometime in the early 1640s by some brotha who just had to see what that girl over yonder was working with when they passed each other at the general store. By the way, none of that is true.
Well, except the “hindparts watching.” That’s like a Black man rite of passage. We suck. Duly note that. Of course, it’s also appreciation. We appreciate that wagon you’re draggin’.
Again, we suck.
The other day, a lady friend of mine pondered whether or not all of these sex-symbol women hawking dietary products and discussing their body issues killed the fantasy for men. I’m fairly sure I said, “Hell no” and “stop smoking crack.”
I don’t think I’ve ever dated a woman who wasn’t having some sort of issue with her body. They thought their stomachs weren’t toned enough or their thighs weren’t thick enough or their boobs weren’t perky enough. Ironically, I honestly don’t remember any of that ever bothering me. To be real, I was just happy to be seeing them naked. I believe Charlie Sheen famously called that “winning.”
Granted, there are definitely some men out there who are passionate about physical fitness and expect their women to be in tip-top shape, pre- or post-baby. But the vast majority of men aren’t like that. Hell, most Black men like their women with some meat on her bones, especially the further South you go. I know skinny women who refuse to move to Atlanta because they feel like they’d never get a man. True.
What does this have to do with the price of nude calendars in Poughkeepsie? Nothing. But if men don’t generally mind their women with whatever imperfections she thinks she has, what on earth would make a woman think that we’d lose any fantasy of Janet Jackson because she was talking about her body issues?
It’s Janet Jackson. Or Mariah Carey. Or Jennifer Hudson.
The fantasy is sex with Janet Jackson, not super-toned-without-insecurity-Janet Jackson. It’s Mariah Carey. She has no booty whatsoever, but who cares? It’s Mariah Carey. The fantasy is the woman, not the minutiae. In our minds, most of these women are good to go no matter what issues they have. Post-traumatic-stress-disorder-Janet Jackson is better than no Janet Jackson.
So ladies, keep this in mind: we love your bodies because they’re yours. And sure, we appreciate perfect bodies, but if you want to put an overweight Mariah Carey under the Christmas tree, we will thank you, boo. Forever.
*** Panama Jackson is a co-founder of the award winning site, VerySmartBrothas.com, and co-author of Your Degrees Won’t Keep You Warm At Night: The Very Smart Brothas Guide to Dating, Mating, and Fighting Crime. He likes Kool-Aid, bad Black movies, and really long book titles. Obviously men still fantasize about celebrities even when they’re not a size 0, but do regular women have that same luxury, or are we held to a different standard? Leave your comments below?
Panama Jackson is a co-founder of the award winning site, VerySmartBrothas.com, and co-author of Your Degrees Won’t Keep You Warm At Night: The Very Smart Brothas Guide to Dating, Mating, and Fighting Crime. He likes Kool-Aid, bad Black movies, and really long book titles.
Obviously men still fantasize about celebrities even when they’re not a size 0, but do regular women have that same luxury, or are we held to a different standard? Leave your comments below?