I'm celebrating and acknowledging who I am now. She has, crucially, her own show now and a 'platform of women every single day' that watch her, then phone her, weeping about their self-image. She always managed to turn a topic around and make it about herself. The bag ladies get left behind; the dumpy Starbucks girls gaze longingly at the white walls from afar and, inside, even the security guards are glamorous when you might actually prefer their life experience to have involved something more challenging than an outbreak of acnethe publicity girls phenomenal. And, if they're saying that, they're saying that to every woman: She probably always trys to push dudes heads down there after a date talking bout ''tell me you like that big poppa'' she there thrusting that 5 day old tuna fish smelling, sebastian the crab from the little mermaid stankin, rancid pussay in dudes faces tryna get her some, with that thing stinking like it just got chewed up by a pirahna. The thing is, everything I'm doing now I can do in 10 years and not have to look a certain way.
She came on live TV in her swimsuit, and turned and stooped and wiggled and posed, and certainly made a mockery of the bitchier columnists who had speculated that her weight had suddenly leapt, after one wallaby burger too many, to lb just over 14 stonebut also showed, with a certain display of guts, how a woman's body - even a supermodel's body - looks surprise, surprise different at different angles.
Tyra Banks proves you can be a feminist and a runway model
I can be pounds. Of course! Because, she says, she's not a model any more, nor even an ex-model, with the exponentially reduced empathy that this wins if you start moaning about the magazines. Sep 16, Her phones rang hot, her email fizzed with messages from young American women who thought they had finally found someone to talk to. Yes, my password is: