A Simple Dimple: My Ode to Cellulite

French Food

I am standing in the kitchen at a friend’s house watching as he prepares a huge pot of fondue.

“Ehermergerd,” I say, “It looks SO good.”

“Yeah,” my friend responds glumly.  “But not exactly fat free, huh?”

“Oauis,” I reply.  “I don’t even care anymore.  In fact, I think I’ve kind of grown to like my cellulite.”

“Quoi?!”  A female friend jumps in, having overheard our conversation.

“I don’t know,” I say.  “I guess I’ve started feeling attached to it.”

She is looking at me like I am crazy…which is fair enough.

“Like, years from now if I don’t live here anymore I can look at my thigh and think “ah yes, that is my French cellulite.”

She laughs but it is in the “you are being weird so I will humor you” way.  I shrug – what can I say?  I’ve become zen with my dimples.

***

I like to eat which works well in France since the French are a people who also like to eat (I know this is a lot of new information to handle at once).  I am always comfortable and welcomed (the French version of being welcomed so, you know…toned down) when I enter a party or arrive for dinner ready to try everything and “ooh” and “ahh” over the food.  It is my primary “in” with French society – they love anyone who is enthusiastic about their cuisine.  However, there are some drawbacks as I have discussed before.

These days, I have figured out how to manage my FFFC (French Fatty Food Consumption).  I’ve realized that “um, I live here and I don’t need to eat everything all at once and constantly” which has been great for the waistline; however, recently I have noticed that some damage just can’t be undone.  There are some things in the FFFC repertoire (foie gras, pate, cheese) that one’s body simply can’t ignore no matter how moderate the intake.  At first, these noticeable changes really bothered me:  “Cellulite, Quelle Horreur!”  But now, I have come to realize that really my cellulite is like a sexy badge of honor, I mean, I feel a little romantic about it.

“Heeeeey Cellulite, how you doin’?”

“Oh you know,” Cellulite says, coyly, flashing me a dimple.  “Just hanging around.”

“Why don’t you let me take you out?  We’ll go to the beach where I can show you off, guuurl!”

A note:  I have no idea why me talking to my cellulite sounds like an early 90’s white rapper.  Apparently the world and my fellow women should all be happy I wasn’t born a dude because my game is sounding pretty sad.

Okay – so it goes something like that.

Point being, I’ve just decided that my cellulite (and other various body issues…don’t even get me started on stretch marks) just isn’t that big of a deal.  I mean, did you know that somewhere between 80-90% of post-pubescent women have it?  (No, I don’t know who those 10% who don’t are, I pretty sure they are like Rainbow Unicorns…I’ve certainly never seen one)  That means that it should be like a rite of passage, proof that you have had a life, that you survived teenage years – I mean, my god, who on earth would trade in cellulite for having to been a teen?  Dimples are definitely the better end of that bargain (apologies to any teenage readers but don’t worry, you’ll get it in about 10 years).  Basically, it is the visible evidence that you have lived some life and are interesting (people who never indulge in yummy food are boring – BAM –truth gun).

So, today, I embrace my cellulite, it kind of makes me smile and remember all the great food that I’ve eaten with great friends during great moments in my life – it is a mark upon my body…but a mark doesn’t necessarily mean a blemish, does it?

So Cellulite, this one’s for you:

An Ode to Cellulite

Rippling waves of dimpled flesh can leave me feeling quite bereft,

Squeezing, pulling, squats galore and still, each day, I find some more.

Yet as I sit and contemplate this state…suddenly, my heart inflates.

Perhaps this unsightly mark against beauty should be embraced by any true foodie.

A swath of fat above my knees to remind me of a Burgundian cheese,

A Parisian dinner caressing my thigh and taking me back to a night gone by,

A plumped buttocks from cassoulet…the evening we met and talked the night away,

Foie gras with confit and magret canard, raclette in winter and pommes de terres in lard,

Memories of moments mapped out on my skin, why should I fight it, perhaps they should win?

It could be inner thighs that flop with vigor indeed present a nicer figure

Than those that stay in shapely place, never rubbing or losing face…

For never having known glorious taste.

***

Apologies for the extra-long sabbatical.  Bread is Pain should be back up and running with normal posts from now on.  I hope that all of you had a glorious New Year! Cheers!

 

 

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18 thoughts on “A Simple Dimple: My Ode to Cellulite

  1. You are perfectly right to embrace your cellulite! Once it’s there it never goes away anyway regardless of weight. You need it for childbearing and breastfeeding anyway. I love your ode.

  2. Cellulite took way too many brain cells and brain time in my twenties – not an enemy as we still say when we bump into each other but I can’t let it rob me of any energy and I just go with it!! Happy new year!

  3. If 80 to 90 percent of women have it, do you think maybe it’s . . . normal? What a radical notion!

    One good thing about getting older is that you really do start giving less of a crap about these things.

    1. haha, right? It is one of the things I love about getting older – I used to let the silliest things bother me…now…meh, who cares? 🙂 It’s all about living a good life and being healthy – the rest doesn’t matter a smidge!

  4. Oh my. I love you. I do. Thank you for this. I am throwing you a cheese party when we FINALLY (coughcough) do meet because you deserve it.

    1. Aw thanks friend! So glad that you liked it – I’ve been thinking on it a while and realized I needed to just write it out! 🙂 And yes, cheese party with spreadable meats will be happening!

  5. I was going to write a long philosophical comment on why I love this post but then the timer pinged and I had to get my chocolate cookies out of the oven, so I’ll just say, “Great post!” instead.

  6. I am sort of on the same wavelength lately. Bad retail fluorescent lighting reminded me my cellulite’s still there, and when you live in France, cooking with butter and taste is a given! Remind’s me of that saying, life’s too short, so eat dessert first.

    1. oh god – the dressing room lighting, always a very disturbing moment. haha! BUt yeah, I mean, how much of our lives do we actually spend in a swimsuit compared to how much we generally worry about it? Who cares! Love it – eat dessert! 🙂

    1. Well thank you kindly! hehe…it is always awesome/disturbing when I find someone with my same sense of humor. 😉 I have actually just finished the first draft of a novel and am in the horrific editing/rewrite process! I may definitely be picking your brain in future for publishing advice!!

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