The Most Beautiful of All

Written and submitted by Aline Perret-Vallee of Saskatchewan.

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ALL

It’s 1998 on a hot July evening. We’re in Québec City on the esplanade of Château Frontenac. Old Québec is entertaining tourists with its annual spectacular historical and cultural celebrations. The crowd is shoulder-to-shoulder. My husband and I, my cousin and a friend have to stay close together so as not to lose each other.

About fifteen yards away, my eyes catch sight of a middle-aged gentleman holding up a placard for everyone to see. On it is written, “LES FEMMES RONDES SONT LES PLUS BELLES.” “Round women are the most beautiful.” I feel elated. The gentleman holds up that sign for hours. He himself has a large and sturdy body. His broad smile shows he loves the reactions he’s creating.

I feel a strong urge to run over and give him a huge hug of gratitude. I’m held back by the thought that I might have difficulty to battle my way through the throng back to my companions.

Many thoughts flutter in my mind. Who, I wonder, started this rumor that slim and tall was more beautiful than every other shape? All the fashion moguls flaunt to us their vision of the perfect male and female image. They call them “models”. And they continue to manipulate our minds. And just where can I find that perfect body? More to the point, what is a perfect body? And who in this whole wide world can boast of having a “model” figure? I can catch flaws even in the bodies of the men and women walking the fashion runways. What is all this to-do about model-like shapes, slim stars, thin mannequins, Barbie-looks? In the real world, after hard physical work, earning a living, constant fatigue, worries and illness, the throes of childbirth, not too many of us have been able to keep that coveted 32-24-32 female silhouette and the much desired 48-30-34 male physique. Most of us will never see it again, ever. That’s one of the reasons we wear clothes.

I cast a look at the people around me. What do I see? The majority of us vary from round, to rounder, to roundest. Then and there amongst the crowd, I glance towards the gentleman with the sign, and I forget these troublesome thoughts. My face is again brightened with a huge smile.

Upon my return home, I glance at my reflection in the mirror. Using the grab method of measurement, I estimate the fat content of my voluptuous waist. I see a conservative three inches between my extended thumb and my four other fingers. In reality this number becomes six, or even seven inches, because the fold is doubled back on itself in my clutch. I’m petite lengthwise but not otherwise. As the years pass, our body shrinks and collapses on itself here and there. The earth’s force of gravity has a strange power over the body. Floating in outer space, it would become weightless but it still would look the same.

Then I remember my Quebec gentleman and I smile. He had been referring to my very own round body. He had announced to the entire world that me, myself, I was among the most beautiful women in the world! My heart beats proudly once again.

As I wait at the till in grocery stores, I peruse the magazine racks. Unfailingly I see on their covers the promise of quick and sure weight loss. I’m no longer illusioned about those diets. I’ve tried them all. They only produce temporary results. And whose picture do we see in their ads to induce us to buy their product? A young thing who has never had a weight problem, of that I’m positive. We’ve all seen the before-and-after pictures that “prove” to us that these diets work. I suspect the manipulations of a good graphic artist. Furthermore, who can prove to me that these people actually followed the diet?

This addiction to slimness goes against nature, not only physically but emotionally. Our expectations are raised high for a short time, only to be destroyed when reality takes over. I regret my utter folly at having wasted repeatedly so much money on false hopes.

I ponder on the food I eat. I was brought up on a farm where we raised almost all our food. There were no additives, no preservatives, no steroids, no chemicals spread over our fields, inhaled in our lungs and processed in our bodies. We were healthy. We ate vegetables, meat, eggs, wholesome cereals and bread, fruits from our trees and from relatives living in BC. Desserts were served maybe once or twice a month, mainly when we had visitors and on special days.

Today, sweets are everywhere in sight. Canada’s Food Guide is so easily relegated to the back of the closet of our mind. Why should such delicious foods be so detrimental to our health? How can GOOD be BAD?

Then I remember my Quebec gentleman and all these troublesome questions fly out of my mind. He wipes the discontent from my brow and returns the smile to my lips. Once more, I am consoled.

A pleasurable revelation improves my mood. Round things abound in our world and in our universe. The earth is round; the sun and the moon are round; all the planets of our universe are round; the stars are round, too. The orbit of the planets is round. The seasons with their specialized activities follow each other in orderly cycles. There is life, then death, then life again. The hands of the clock go round and round marking time. Sunrise and day, then sunset, and night, then sunrise again form the balanced circle of our lives. One of the greatest human inventions is the wheel; what would we do without it? We take round trips to our destinations. We go to work and come back home. We encircle a loved one with our embrace. To be graceful is to make smooth round movements. The wedding ring is a symbol of everlasting commitment. Eternity, like a circle, has no beginning and no end.

I look back at my reflection in the mirror. I see my body with all its extras. It’s the best I’ve got in this life. They say, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” I say, “Love your body because it is yourself.” I just have more to adorn, more to show off and more to love! Just hug me around the shoulders and not around the waist.

My only challenge is choosing the proper clothing to make me look fabulous, while covering up the flaws that are “for mine eyes only.” Just imagine how the heads would turn if I “hipped” my way up and down the fashion runways of Paris, of London, of Milan, of New York! I can hear the whispers: “What distinction! What class!”

My full-to-overflowing body reminds me once more of my Quebec gentleman. This time, I gaze straight into my eyes. My reflection and I burst into a hearty laugh. At that moment, I promise myself that I will always walk with dignity and pride.

All of you who understand roundness, come. Join me on life’s runways. Let’s hold our heads high as we strut our stuff! Let’s always remember, “Les femmes rondes sont les plus belles.”

LONG LIVE ROUND BODIES!