There’s a college of Further Education in the Hague called the Haagse Hogeschool, or some such Dutch abomination of a name, and I biked through its courtyard yesterday evening. Amongst the melee of students hanging around, I was struck by one girl in particular as I biked past. She was in her very early 20s, plain-faced (apart from the acne) and a little fat. And she had a serenity, a poise, an inner calm and satisfaction about her that was a thing to behold. I didnt stop and speak to her, so I have no empirical evidence that her satisfied air had nothing to do with having a surfeit of pies, but there was something very beautiful, a genuine contentment about her (and not just a resignation to the hand life had dealt her).
Her contenment was thrown into particularly sharp relief against the younger, prettier, slimmer go-getter bright young things who were also around the place, living on the edge of unwarranted self-doubt and existential angst. Sure, there’s a certain seductive quality about being elegently wasted, about being “So Young and So Gone”, in the words of Suede’s Brett Anderson, but wasted is just that. Wasted.
So I just wanted to say: well done, fat girl.














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