Interview with Betty Kaye, plus size actress

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Deborah
 
 

 

I was drawn to the film by Adrien Brody, the gifted actor who won an Oscar for his role in The Pianist and Tony Kaye, the director of American History X (for which Ed Norton received an Academy Award nomination).  The stellar cast includes Marcia Gay Harden, Christina Hendricks, Bryan Cranston, William Peterson, Tim Blake Nelson, Betty Kaye, Sami Gayle, Lucy Liu, Blythe Danner and James Caan.  I felt like a voyeur as I watched high school students who didn’t want to learn, teachers unraveled by their apathy and their frustration at a bureaucracy.  This was the new Blackboard Jungle.  Betty Kaye’s searing, sensitive portrayal of Meredith evokes the universal longing for compassion. She sees Adrien Brody’s character as a person who may finally see the invisible Meredith. I reached out to Betty Kaye to ask her about her first film role, how it felt to be directed by her father and the amazing ensemble cast she had the good fortune to be a part of.

Q: Where did you grow up?

A: London, New York and LA.

Q: When did you realize you had a passion for acting?

A: I don’t know of a specific time. I’ve been around it for so long that I can’t pinpoint a date. I started having fun with it really young and it’s been like that ever since.

Q: You attended the Stagedoor Manor Camp which is well-known for having many famous alumni. How did the camp prepare you as a performer?

A:I was cast in one of the bigger drama productions my very first summer. It was sink or swim. A bit of throwing up on assignment night, but after that I was determined to swim. Whenever I got the jitters, I switched from ME to WE and kept telling myself that regardless of my nervousness, I could not let the rest of the cast down. The place is such a fantastic incubator for developing the whole person as an actor and, crucially, as an indispensable cast member, no matter how small or big your role. We were each other’s extension. We lived together, we played together and we acted together. That makes you grow up in the right direction really fast.

Q: How did you approach Meredith? Did you create a history for her?

A: I did. I looked closely at my own experiences as an art student. Also, I looked at my own ups and downs with the bullying that goes on in schools and society against heavy kids. By the way, a lot of adults conveniently forget that they themselves bully plus size kids and adults in so many spoken and unspoken ways. It really goes on in every aspect of your daily life. The thing is that the weight of people in general has gone up in developed societies, and so not only are heavier set people here to stay, but the acceptance has gone up. Anyway, as part of my preparation, I created pieces of work as Meredith. That got me into her head. I was able to reflect the world around her in those pieces. Once I tapped into that, I was able to keep going into darker and darker corners of her mind. Because of the environment that my father created on the set, and because of his amazing knack to get the best out of his actors, including, it turns out, his daughter, I feel that it all worked brilliantly. From the reaction I’ve been getting from complete strangers who’ve seen the movie and happen to recognize me is that Meredith moved them very deeply. You can’t ask for more from a role!

Q: Was there a personal connection to the role for you? Did you ever feel invisible like Meredith?

A: I am quite the opposite in private life. I’m quite a jokster. But look, we all struggle with lots of things as we grow up and at times we all feel invisible. It’s not just the heavy kids. When I first read the script, I saw her in my mind almost instantly and had a feeling of who she was way before I reached the last page. I felt her pain. Sometimes I felt like she was invisible, but I also think that, with kids who are like Meredith, they always leave something behind. They leave little clues of their existence that will be seen by those who choose to look.

Q: Can you describe your working relationship with Adrien Brody. Did you improvise?

A: Oh god, is he a dream or what? Of course Adrien was supportive. He’s a consummate professional. Alongside my father, he created a safety net for me to fall into when digging into the darker corners of Meredith. So I was bold with my choices. Needless to say, this was a very lucky film experience.

Q: The cast is filled with veteran actors like Marcia Gay Harden and James Caan. What was the atmosphere like on the set? Did anyone give you great acting advice you’ll be able to bring to your next role?

A: I had a blast. It was always playful. Everyone had a joke to tell off camera, and then, boom, the moment it was “action,” everyone got into character. Being able to watch them work was a tremendous help and definitely enhanced my performance.

Q: Your father had high praise for your acting saying you “broke his heart” every time he watched your performance. What was it like experiencing your father as your director?

A: It was absolutely wonderful. My Dad really supported me through the whole thing and I can’t thank him enough for that. He really made me feel completely safe on set.

Q: Are you a fan of Stanley Kubrick films like your father?

A: Not as much as my Dad.

Q: What are your acting goals? What would be your ideal role? What actor/actress would you love to work with?

A: I’m keeping an open mind when it comes to my acting career. Everything happens for a reason. I’m just taking everything as it comes and am trying to keep myself as grounded as possible.

Q: Have you experienced any weight bias as an actress? Do you feel like you’ll have equal access to roles as a plus size actress?

A: I just want to portray great characters and people that everyone can relate to. I want to be someone who could be your sister, your cousin, your girlfriend, your best friend, etc. Weight should be part of that character the same way it is part of our lives.

Q: Are you interested in directing?

A: Ha. Ha. Well, I’m keeping all options open.

Q: How would you describe your personal fashion style?

A: I like to look good, but also be comfortable. I’m a photography student in London, so I think that what I wear reflects the amazing creative energy of that place. I don’t have a set style. It’s whatever catches my eye and looks good on me. It’s actually much easier to get great clothes for me in London. I can get great outfits on high street. I think every woman in my position wants to look and feel good and be able to walk into a store and walk out with a fabulous outfit.

Betty Kaye’s performance exposes an abyss of universal pain.  We experience her humiliation. Please see “Detachment” for Betty Kaye’s remarkable performance.

"Detachment" Cast

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Plus Size Lingerie Q and A with Lydia

Posted on February 4, 2012 by Deborah

Lovely Lydia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Successful plus size lingerie model, Lydia has graced Plus Size Plum’s homepage several times. Her exotic, smoldering looks suggest an  approachable confidence. The camera loves her every small, graceful pose. And she can sell a look with spectacular ease keeping it elegantly sexy. 

Since the world is ridiculously small, my best friend coincidentally lives in Los Angeles and she had jury duy with our frequent cover girl, Lydia.  Years later I connected with Lydia via Facebook because I was as curious as my customers were about her.

1. Where did you grow up? Jacksonville, Florida

2. You have such a lovely exotic look. What is your ethnic heritage?                 

My paternal side is mostly Eastern European, and my maternal side is Polish and British.

3. Any significant other? Not at the moment. I’m taking some time to work on myself.

4. What are your guilty pleasures I’ve been known to watch marathons of True Blood and Friday Night Lights.

5. Interests? Movies, music, and I love sports, both playing and watching.

6. Future goals? Besides modeling, my passion is acting.

7. How did you get into lingerie modeling? I was scouted by a local company.

8. What do you bring to every photo shoot? Myself, a creative mind, and my model bag.

9. How do you stay fit? Boxing classes, spin classes, various bootcamps.

10. What are your favorite hair and beauty products? That’s like picking your favorite child (I love products!). With that being said, no product works better than an amazing workout, combined with great nutrition, hydration, and enough sleep.

11. What is your favorite daytime outfit? I live in Sky dresses and Lululemon workout outfits.

12. It’s no secret your a favorite Plus Size Plum cover girl. What are your favorite lingerie pieces for Valentine’s 2012? Anything purple that enhances an hourglass shape.

13. You seem to have a style with a sexy perspective. What do you look for in evening wear that says sexy glamour? I love a classic, old hollywood glamour look, with a modern twist.

14. What is your idea of the perfect Valentine’s day? Lots of flowers! I’m such a girlie girl when it comes to this. Purple/lavender roses are my favorite. Also, I’d like to get out of the city for a day or two with no phone or computer – left only with great company, relaxation… and maybe some surprises.

15. Who’s your celebrity crush? Do I have to name just one? Alexander Skarsgard. (Actor on HBO’s sexy True Blood).

16. When are you happiest? When I am with my friends.

17. What are the qualities you look for in a friend? Loyalty, true heart, wit.  In a nutshell, someone who is fun and has my back because I will definitely have theirs.

Posted in Beauty, Fashion, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Best Plus Size Babydolls for Holiday 2011

Posted on November 12, 2011 by Deborah

Best Plus Size Holiday Babydoll

Seductive Santa Plus Size Babydoll

Holiday 2011 plus size lingerie continues to trend towards lace and sequin embellishments. Plus Size Plum finds the crimson shade most flattering with rich red undertones and an A- line, triangle shaped construction allowing a graceful, figure flattering drape across fuller hips.  Although I love the red and black lace overlay babydoll with its delicate rhinestone embellishment on a velvet ribbon empire waist, I am even more impressed with the inner construction, seaming and hook and eye closure.  I firmly believe customers are savvy when it comes to finding quality.  And quality, not quantity seems to be the resounding theme among the latest holiday offerings.  Plus size manufacturers are carefully editing their lines to include the proven best plus size bodies.

 

Demure Tiered Leopard Babydoll

Classic, natural leopard will always be a staple in any plus size lingerie collection, but this new flounced babydoll with lace cups and feminine tiers makes it look fresh for 2011.  Customers should look for more solid construction and jewel tones like ruby, sapphire, and pink tourmaline for the best plus size babydoll offerings this holiday.

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Self-Esteem for the Plus Size Woman

Posted on November 12, 2011 by Deborah

Previously published Nov 13th, 2007

The path to self-esteem is challenging for those of us who are plus size. Many of us were taunted in school or belittled by well-meaning parents, peers or teachers. Unfortunately, we never forget those harsh words. To this day I remember the cruelty of a girl who mocked me relentlessly at camp. The best summer I had at camp was when I went to the dreaded fat camp where I participated in a beauty contest and formed friendships that carried over to the winter.

Plus size communities were born out of our need for acceptance. It’s so gratifying to see organizations like NAAFA, BBW groups and communities like Plus Model Magazine and Venus Divas because each person within our plus size world has a group to which they can identify with.

As a resident of Durham, NC, considered to be “the diet capital of the world”, I’ve come to know that fat is the great equalizer among us. It’s so liberating having friends who understand your shorthand whether it be the pursuit of the perfect recipe for tarte tatin, a great fitting bathing suit or dealing with pre-interview job jitters.

Although there are approximately 40 million women in the US who are plus size, there have  been recent stories about how one can catch fat from being with other fat people. Boston Legal’s writers are exploring this very issue as a young woman is fired because William Shatner’s character’s ego was shattered after he was “turned down by a fat girl”, the real reason for her firing. Boston Legal is smart because they highlight emotionally charged subjects sensitively by offering alternative views.

Where does one get self-esteem? If you are lucky, it starts with your parents. A few years ago I heard Maria Shriver say on Oprah, “My parents said the world will try to tear you down and it’s up to us as parents to tell you how special and great you are”. Her parents tell her what a terrific mother she is and how lucky her husband is to have her as a wife. But, what if you don’t have understanding, supportive parents?

Your accomplishments, big or small, build your self-esteem and courage. Yes, our road is difficult due to the prejudices we encounter. Do not be deterred by the naysayer’s. You must and I repeat must persist in living your life out loud. We all have unique talents and abilities. Work it, girl!

The last step on the road to self-esteem is FRIENDS. Many of us take them for granted. We squander this incredible source of love, support and self-esteem. Female friends fall into two categories. The first puts women before men. The latter places men (or a love interest) before friends. Placing lovers before friends is the biggest mistake we make as women. Our twisted priorities represent our very deepest flaw. Men respect us more when we have our separate, independent lives. These wonderful people we call our girlfriends are there for us when it’s not easy to be our friend-when we’re obsessive, neurotic, sick or broke.

Many years ago I made a pact with my best friend, Algy to include each other in our New Year’s Eve plan. Later, I was invited to the Playboy Mansion by an actor for New Year’s. He said I couldn’t bring my friend. I never went. I can’t remember his name, but twenty-five years later, Algy is still my best friend.

Posted in Body Image/Self-Esteem | 1 Comment

A Lucky Daughter

Posted on June 18, 2011 by Deborah

 

My son said, “You’ve been crazy since Grandpa died”.  My husband said, “Please write a post. It’ll help process the grief you’re going through.” So now I am finally winding down from a rapidly moving train that thrust me into a manic state of hyperactivity so I could organize a memorial and handle some unfinished business.  I was trying my best to hold it together, but the grief would manifest into bouts of crying in bed, in the shower or a marked impatience.  I was also unprepared for the groundswell of collective mourning that followed.  I had simply forgotten my father was much beloved, respected and famous in the world of antiques.  

Albert Sack entered my life in 1977 when my mother was set up with him through an Antique dealer friend. I was hoping for a stable mate for her, but I had no expectation of reaping the benefit of  having a father, too. My faith in men had been severely shaken from my biological father and subsequent step-monster.  Frankly, I felt unlovable. Then along came an unexpected gift….Albert.

 From the very start he respected my “beautiful thoughts” as he lovingly referred to them. We would go on long road trips around New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut visiting people, talking politics and antiques.  I saw how happy he made people when he paid them a visit. He honored his word with a simple handshake.  As the daughter of an old dealer wrote to me, “When he met your father it was a different world; your father paid him very well, never tricked him and treated him with respect and honor. ” Albert’s father, the legendary Israel Sack often quoted the Talmud and taught Albert his business ethics allowing them to acquire the cream of the crop and setting a record of unparalleled excellence at Israel Sack, Inc. 

Albert legally adopted me and my sister because he wanted us.  I felt I already belonged to him as we shared the same personal truth and search for self-acceptance. The New York Times writer, Paul Vitello asked me, “Why do you think your father wrote Fine Points of American Furniture: Good, Better, Best?” I answered truthfully, saying, “He was the brother who wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life…so I think for my father, writing the book was a way of establishing his expertise in the field, carving out his own identity”.  We were both poetic souls struggling with self-esteem issues and the great shadows cast by parents and siblings. 

When my father moved to Durham in 2004 to live with us, his spirit was tattered.  We worked and lived together and I became his cheerleader. He taught me and his grandson to embrace our differences as well as the value of perseverance. As you achieve your goals, they’ll provide the fortress against those who underestimate you.  He always said, “Don’t let the bastards get you down”.

Albert Sack teaching at the Philadelphia Antiques Show

My father made  a comeback in his nineties which culminated in our exhibiting at the Philadelphia Antiques show as he sported a broken shoulder from “horsing around” with his grandson. I watched him bask in glory among his colleagues, friends and collectors. I am so proud I played a role in the “Sack is back” resurrection.

One of our dreams was to convince a museum to establish early American furniture rooms but they were only interested in modern art.  We, however preferred the beauty of objects that stirred us emotionally, the way a Van Gogh painting or a Spielberg film does.  Lofty goals for a middle aged woman and her ninety something father!  Ultimately, we were successful in developing the Albert Sack collection for Hickory Chair which we were both very proud of.

In 2007 I launched my site, Plus Size Plum.  My father was influential in my finding the courage to branch out without the benefit of a partner.  He’d write little funny, outdated slogans for my lingerie. I knew this was his way of showing his unerring faith in me. He would tell my husband he had eggs in his beer.

Ken, Harry, Deborah, Grandpa and Grandma

 After his death, I made a point of telling my son and his friend, Maggie how special Albert felt they were. He had a knack for recognizing greatness in others.  I told these 13 year olds how people will rattle your confidence, but you must always remember that an extraordinary man named Albert Sack thought you were remarkable.

So now on those days when I feel like Rodney Dangerfield, I need to follow my own advice. I will see Albert’s impish grin.  I will remind myself that he believed in me.

A yellow butterfly miraculously swept through the door at his memorial landing on my sister.  People said it felt like Albert.  I told him to send me a sign from beyond.  In the end he didn’t disappoint.

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Plus Size Style through the Decades-One Plum’s Odyssey

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Deborah

Deborah Dressing Up

It all started with a pair of red sneakers I went to sleep wearing. I was hooked! The discovery put a spring in my step catapulting me into a lifelong romance with fashion.  At a tender age patterns and themes began to emerge. Nautical knits, florals and shoes  kept reappearing. East Coast black influences eventually merged with California casual. Growing up I created makeshift solutions since there was a glaring void in 70s plus size fashion.  If I couldn’t find the wide leg navy pants I yearned for, I’d go to an Army and Navy surplus store  and buy the original sailor’s pants.   Yes, I would have to be inventive, but the thrill of coordinating outfits further emboldened my plus size identity and sparked my creativity.

My "Mod" 1968 dress

Living close to the ocean (Boston-hence the running nautical theme) with incredible boutiques like hippie chic George’s Folly (just down the street) to Paraphernalia (where designer Betsy Johnson got her start) set the stage for my budding fashionista self.  My first favorite outfit, a purple suede fringed vest with matching lace front miniskirt had a  magical, transforming effect on me the night of a school dance.  Do I remember if anyone asked me to dance?  No, but I can still feel the gained sense of confidence I had wearing a put together look in what would  later become my signature color.

 

I experimented with looks ranging from denim overalls, plaid shirts and vintage furs (an old muskrat purchased for $20) and my grandmother’s Persian lamb.  Safari jackets, hair bandanas, Huckapoo shirts and “Goody Two Shoe” wedgies were au courant. I loved witnessing the evolution of espadrillles, Gucci equistrian themes, preppy madras, hand embroidered peasant blouses.  I loved all the fresh interpretations of  classics I adored. I was fearless in my experimentation.  My mother (the slim, fashionable,  Jewish Jackie O) would disapprove of my misguided adventures into vintage.  “You’ll catch leprosy”, she said.  This was my fashion journey and I was cultivating my style.  I learned about the illusion of prints, the value of a good, classic outfit and the elements of  plus size style.

Nautical in 1989.

70s, 80s and 90s

 

From my tailor grandfather, I learned about fabric quality and cut.  My mother taught me how to buy an outfit, a look.  Her fashion philosophy was to buy quality over quantity.  Wardrobe is an investment.  Never underestimate the value of a great black sweater or a navy blazer.  When I wanted to wear Edwardian or flowing vintage, my mother pushed me towards tailored pieces.  Her style sensibility became part of my DNA and I subconciously adopted a version of her style.   

 

1948

 

1989

There were so many aspects of fashion I love like the drama of the entrance.  I  was the “girl in the pink sweater walking on the beach” so making  a memorable impression was theatrical and I was/am a true ham.  I loved the hunt for the perfect accessories to an event and the “what will you wear” conversations. As I became more self-assured and joined the ranks of plus size modeling, I became intrigued with the emerging  plus size garment industry in 1980s Los Angeles fortunate to play a role in bringing fashion to a “ forgotten woman”.

I kicked in the door to a world that had little use for me as a plus size woman, but I’m relentless when I’m in pursuit of an ideal.  The road I traveled, ironically hired to sell plus size lingerie, led me back to where I belonged all along at Plus Size Plum.

About Personal Style

Some rules can be bent.  I can wear a fur vest even with a big bust (if it’s cut right), but I can’t wear kelly green anymore  despite the fact that I still have the Studio 54 disco dancing girl inside me, it doesn’t suit me in my fifties.  I dress with a youthful perspective (so no more Misook) . I love linen as it reminds me of summer in Milan (where I’ve never been). And I am crazy for plaids, stripes, paisley and Chanel.  For me, to quote  my other style icon, the fabulous, Mouna Ayoub, “Fashion is art”.  Madame Ayoub (who I once had as a customer) came decked out in Chanel from her thigh high boots to  her necklaces.  Her style left me awestruck.

For those of us who love fashion, it’s an expression of individuality, style and an endless source of joy.

Mouna Ayoub in Chanel

My mother, my first style icon

In signature purple Ann Klein and Armani scarf (from mother)

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A Plus Size Woman and the Gay Men in her life

Posted on October 30, 2010 by Deborah

 

I'm 2nd row, 3rd one in from left

As early as my days at Sewall Nursery school in Brookline, I can recall the boys in my class who didn’t play cowboys and Indians and finished the day as neatly as they started it.  I knew they were different even though I wasn’t exactly sure why.  Somewhere between 9 and 10, I began to attract their attention.  Maybe it was sensitivity suggesting compassion or my chubby, but stylish look. Either way, I was sought out by the friendly, effeminate gay boy with psoriasis whom everyone was afraid to talk to.  I asked my mother if his condition was contagious and once my ten year old fears were allayed, I became his friend.

I loved having girlfriends, but this air was charged with a different energy sparked by gay boys. Feelings of competitiveness were almost non-existent in this new world filled with creativity and joy. There were Boston Brahmin identical twins that loved to window shop at Saks and always made me laugh even when things weren’t so funny in my house.  They offered a unique perspective filled with wit, defiance, and style.  My gay friends were coming of age at the start of the Gay Rights movement and outing oneself took fierce courage, something I deeply admired.

My first best gay friend at 16 was a young Dartmouth graduate from Maine named Billy.  Late night musings and disco dancing to Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes soothed my adolescent angst. Billy’s faith in me pulled me out of the darkness. Our empathy sprung from a well of loneliness as fat woman and gay man struggling to carve out identities.

Stan

Destiny played a role in my meeting Stanford, a formerly married gentleman from Lake Charles, LA who left his wife of 25 years to come out in his fifties in NYC. When he moved into the same apartment building, I suddenly became his closest confidante, hostess, a plus size Holly Gollightly riding the waves of his alcoholic highs and lows. (Navigating this road felt familiar as I had always felt my alcoholic father, a tortured soul, was the product of 1950s repressed homosexuality.)

Up until then I knew only of the “Jewish Renaissance” style of interior decorating, but Stan introduced me to a “High Queen” style replete with garish silk floral arrangements, Gucci china and still life oils. He was like a Tennessee Williams character, and as I sat next to the playwright himself at Cowboys and Cowgirls (an old gay bar at 53rd Street) with Stan, I considered the irony of the moment.

In 1982, I was asked to come to New Orleans as he lay dying (from AIDS).  Because of his failing health, Stan’s only communication was through notes and body language. He watched me lovingly as I cooked his favorites like eggplant parmesan, liquefying it through a blender for his consumption.  His eyes reflected melancholy because he could never find peace as an openly gay man without sacrificing his family.

About the mid 80s while shopping for exotic flowers in Santa Monica, I became love struck by a blonde curled pied piper named Robert.  I fell hard and fast, captivated by his “joie de vivre”. While we shared a romantic intimacy as we snuggled next to each other in restaurants, there was a palpable void in our sex life. Later he confessed he was the former lover of a famed gay designer.  I was devastated.  I never thought I would’ve succumbed to falling in love with a gay man, but Robert’s inner struggle with his sexuality was far more painful than any heartbreak I experienced. He loved me, too, but as desperately as he wanted to be my soul mate, he couldn’t deny his sexuality.

At BBW magazine, I met Jak McDonnell, fashion editor and one of the most uniquely creative people I’ve ever met. Playing Donatella to his Gianni, we commiserated, collaborated and played dress up. We talked about our dreams and fears during those long, winding drives through the Hollywood Hills to the Valley.

And there is Max who still remembers the yellow Ralph Lauren rain coat I wore when I first met him.  Our meeting was like kindred spirits at fat camp realizing they were actually separated at birth.  When we saw each other for my fiftieth birthday, time stood still for our friendship as our eyes welled up with love.  He continues to be my inspiration, heart and a very dear friend.

What I’ve learned from the love and friendship of gay men in my life is this:  Gayness isn’t a choice. You are born that way.  The road to self-discovery is difficult enough. Why do we instill fears of gayness and rejection in our children?  Why do we continue to deny these American citizens their civil rights?  And, why do people still believe you can pray gay away?  One thing I’ve learned from life is this: It’s not important what you love but who you love.

Posted in Love and Sex, Relationships | 8 Comments

Plus Size Beauty Goes to the Emmys, a guest post by Elizabeth Vienneau

Posted on August 30, 2010 by Deborah

Elizabeth in Emmy gown

Serene. Angry. Overjoyed. Panicked. Guilt laden.  Those are the emotions, in  order, that washed over me the morning I found out my husband was nominated for an Emmy Award. I was sleeping away. Happy as a clam ( I am from Cape Cod so happiness always involves clams) when the phone rings. I am pissed, cursing the person who has the nerve to call at 6AM. Then I am whooping it up. An Emmy nomination!  My husband deserves this nomination, this award. Then it hits me. I am 38 pounds heavier than I was the last time I went to a black tie event. That’s where the guilt creeps in. I’m worried about my weight at this moment? I feel like a jerk, but, what the hell am I going to do about a dress?

It was the 2002 Academy Awards (Oscars), British Academy Awards (BAFTA), and the Golden Globe Awards. My husband was nominated for the first two and his movie was nominated for the third. There were parties as well. I had a lot of shopping to do.

I was a well rounded size 12  plus sized model represented by the Ford Modeling Agency appearing in Target and Kmart ads and being hired for various other, mostly non glamourous, plus sized modeling gigs.  After searching for dresses in numerous boutiques and being told at each one that they didn’t “carry dresses big enough to fit me”. I went the custom route.

I looked great. I felt great. My husband won the BAFTA. His movie won the Oscar and the Golden Globe.  It was a dreamy few weeks.

Now here it is 8 years and 38 lbs later.  I am now a well rounded size 14 pushing 16.  I know that finding a dress will be an impossible feat. Here in Los Angeles, many stores don’t go above a size 10.  The current styles seem impossible for women, like me, with curves. Mini skirt length bubble skirts. Ah… no.  Long and lean empire waist gowns? Empire waist on my 5’10 inch frame hits me right under the armpits. Not a good look.

I order a few dresses online. I can’t bear to go to a store just yet so I delude myself into thinking I will order something and get lucky. I soon discover that I am in between size categories. A regular 14 just doesn’t cut it. A plus sized 14 is too big in the bust and back.  The styles change from sexy to frumpy from one size category to the next.  None of the dresses I order fit. My six year old daughter was kind enough to point out that I looked pregnant in all of them. Ha ha ha…hey. There was an idea! I’ll just shove a pillow into the waistband and go to the awards like that. I’ll tell everyone I am pregnant. I seriously considered it.

My husband reminds me that when I spent the obscene amount on the custom Academy Awards dress eight years ago, I promised I would wear it every time we went to a black tie event for the rest of my life. So, I dig it out of the closet and think, what the hell. Maybe it can be let out or maybe, just maybe I gained all the weight in my butt and the skirt will somehow hide it. It’s a floor length midnight blue taffeta with an iridescent lining that peeks out from the hem with a slight fishtail train.  It is long and slinky and the dress of my dreams. I slip it over my head and pull it down. Is it caught on something? Yes it is. My behind. It is now a backless mini dress.  The only part of the skirt that gets past my hips is the fish tail. Four feet of taffeta is scrunched up around my waist. It’s backless because there is about eight inches of me between the two sides of the zipper. The tightest girdle invented wouldn’t get this thing closed. 38 pounds? Who am I kidding. This is 50+ pounds. I pack up the dress and start searching online again.

I find an amazing dress and I can tell it will fit but it’s not available until two months after the big event.  It’s on the website of a department store so I decide the next morning to go see if by some miracle there is one in stock. Well, they don’t have it.  But there on a sale rack. Flawed with a huge ragged snag in the fabric and labeled with a tag that was obviously reattached when it was returned, is my perfect dress.  It’s a size 14. I walk it to the dressing room muttering to myself, “Please. Please let it fit. I need this to fit”.  I enter the harsh lights of the fitting room. I turn my back to the mirror,  strip down, and slip the dress over my head. It flows down my torso, over my legs and pools on the floor like warm hot fudge was poured over me.  My daughter gasps, “Mommy. You look beautiful!”  It fit like it was made for me. Ok so it was supposed to be loose and flowing and on me it was tight, but it worked and I bought it.

I went home and hung it up for three weeks and didn’t look at it again. I was petrified it hadn’t really fit after all and I didn’t want to know. I waited until the night before the event to try it on again. It still fit. The jagged, horrid snag in the fabric was right there on the front of my thigh but I didn’t care. I’d wear the thing if there was a ketchup stain down the front.

The day of the Emmy’s it was 80 degrees in Los Angeles.  I did my make up and hair, took a deep breath,  and shoved my size 14+ body into a pair of Spanx that fit my six year old like a pair of leggings. I maneuvered myself into a stick on backless bra comprised of two silicone “chicken cutlets” with a snap in the middle.  I then pulled my boobs together and snapped them in place.  Next was the tape to hold the straps of the dress onto my shoulders. Lastly,  I slipped into my completely flat sandals with a rhinestone bumble bee on each of my big toes. I was determined to have one part of my body not pinched, compacted, and in pain. We took a few photos and waited for the limo to arrive. All the while I was plotting how I was going to be able to bend the middle of my body enough to get into the car without splitting the dress or popping the hideous bra thing completely off, taking someones eye out.

When we arrived I maneuvered myself out of the limo. In the process the tape on my gown straps gave way from the sweat that was pouring down my body and I exposed one side of my bra to the waiting, though completely uninterested in me, paparazzi at the entrance. We stepped onto the red carpet. It was hot, crowded, and we had 10 minutes to get to our seats or we’d be locked out of the theater.  I made a quick trip to the ladies room. Desperately tried to re-tape my gown to my body and hide the waistband of my Spanx that was peeking out of the top of my backless dress.

I made it to my seat with a minute to spare. Ten rows up in the center, on the right.  The show was to be three hours long with no break. “So settle in and enjoy!”  I was nervous for my husband. He really deserved to win this award.

It was a beautiful stage. Everyone looked so glamourous around us. Celebrities were everywhere. The creative people behind the scenes were all around me.  My nervousness started to transform into excitement. My husband might really win this award! The first Emmy is given out. Look at that thing! It’s huge and gold and shiny. That beautiful woman’s body with lightening- bolt wings languidly stretching towards the sky holding a globe.  It would look so cool in my house.  I can’t believe this is happening! The suspense is too intense.

 

Two hours into the show. The category is called. I grab for my husband’s hand and squeeze it.  A mobile camera crew comes over to us and sticks a big television camera right in my husband’s face. Poised to capture either the moment of victory or the moment of pretending you are happy for the other guy who won your award instead.  All the weeks of waiting and getting ready. The guilt of me worrying about my dress washes over me. This is the important moment.

Here it is… and there it goes. The presenter reads names I have never heard.  A group of people I have never seen trot to the stage and collect the sexy gold statue that was supposed to come home with us. My husband turns to me and smiles and says, “It’s OK”.   I try to catch my breath. My heartbeat slows back to normal. I let out a big sigh and stare at the snag in my dress. I have to sit there for another hour until the show is over, day dreaming about what it would have been like to see my husband up there on the stage.

Vivienne Westwood Cufflinks

We still had a great time. The after- party was beautiful and extravagant.  It was designed to look like an otherworldly  starry night. Lights of zodiac constellations patterned the walls.  Disco balls spun to create shooting stars.  There was a  bar made completely out of ice. There was even swag. Boxes of specially made Duncan Hines brownies on each of our seats for us to take home. I scooped them up for my daughter and guarded them from the brownie poachers who were sneaking around all night looking for unattended boxes.

Red Carpet

 

Around 10 PM we climbed into our limo, took a deep breath, and wound our way home through the city. Sure I felt disappointed. But really, it was an exciting evening and  I was grateful for that.  Feeling a bit deprived, I looked down at the fancy platinum boxes of brownies resting on the seat next to me and considered, how many brownies can a six year old eat anyway…?

Elizabeth, Roger and daughter

 

Elizabeth Vienneau is a former Ford plus model, photographer www.aphotofable.com and dear friend from Los Angeles.

Posted in Beauty, Body Image/Self-Esteem, Media | 4 Comments

California trip, 1970

Posted on August 15, 2010 by Deborah

My infamous Merrimeko mumu

I’ve always been reluctant to share certain experiences without sounding like a name-dropping gossip, but I decided my perspective and experiences living in Boston, NYC, Los Angeles and Durham, NC might be of interest.

During my tumultuous childhood there were times we lived well and just as many times we could barely afford a newspaper. During one of those more fortunate times, I had the opportunity of a lifetime for a star struck, “chubby” thirteen year old from Brookline. As a reward for getting all As and probably to escape the hyper critical grip of my current step monster, my mother whisked me away to California in 1970. Our first stop was two weeks at La Costa where I worked with an encouraging tennis pro, dined on spa cuisine and watched the filming of the boorish “Doctor’s Wives”. On one occasion I was dumbstruck by Dyan Cannon’s nakedness in La Costa’s locker room as I eyed her toothpick limbs and grapefruits. Wow, is this what’s hot in Hollywood? Ursula Andress and Sophia Loren were far sexier with their voluptuous curves. I guess I can blame Dyan for creating the trend of big bobble heads with teeny, tiny bodies and huge boobs like Angelina Jolie.

Although I didn’t lose much, I felt firmer, stronger and I became enchanted by California’s strangeness. Everyone looked so relaxed their eyes seemed at half-mast while they breathed in hypnotic winds fragrant with plumeria. Everything looked so new, not like the chipped paint on houses in Boston with centuries of crud.

After two weeks at La Costa, my mother hired a driver to take us up the coast to the Beverly Hilton Hotel. As we were approaching Beverly Hills, the driver suggested taking us to see the house where the Tate-La Bianca murders took place the previous year. Although I felt sickened by the suggestion of the macabre tourist attraction, I remember thinking how different this place felt to me and how even the natives understood the public’s insatiable curiousity with anything related to Hollywood. I had just read Nathaniel West’s “Day of the Locusts” and this moment reeked of it.

My mother took me to the Whiskey-A-Go-Go where I had my hand stamped “No booze for youz” and saw Sha Na Na perform. Later that evening we discovered a huge multi-level nightclub with swinging chaises. We were there only a day or two when my mother announced she’d met a producer who was able to acquire tickets for us to attend the Governor’s Ball (party) for the Academy Awards. This was so extraordinary we had to have something special and very Hollywood to wear. Through some Boston research, my mother settled on the Sunset Blvd. boutique of Holly Harp, a former art student at Radcliffe and well-known for her hippie chic style and romantic designs in matte jersey and vintage fabrics. Holly was famous for dressing everyone from Ali Mac Graw’s antique shawl look to Barbra Streisand to Stevie Nicks. Both Holly and husband, Tom were warm, very southern charming. Although it wasn’t easy to find something in my size 12/14, we settled on a vintage print prairie skirt (with a drawstring) and an ingenious blue silk blouse with a removable high collared vintage lace “dickie”. (The dickie is now infamous due to Zack’s fake turtleneck in “Dinner for Schmucks”). Once the dickie was removed, it converted to a classic v-neck. My tanned mother wore a beige matte jersey two piece top and long skirt that draped elegantly and she wore an “updo” like a Greek goddess. To accessorize the look, Holly sent us to a store for antique handbags.

 

Liz and Dick at the Academy Awards, 1970

Unlike today, everyone went to the Governor’s Ball in 1970. I recall stepping aside when I felt the whirl of people shifting towards the door, cameras popping with each shot. Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton entered the room. Amazed by the peach pit-sized diamond radiating from her ample bosom and the surrealness of the moment, I was awestruck by her charisma. To this day the only other woman I’ve seen carry herself with Taylor’s brand of glamorous sexual confidence is Beyonce. It’s like she relishes her femininity the way a drag queen does, masterfully polishing and maximizing her beauty potential.

I glanced over at Barbra Streisand fixating on her creamy, porcelain, graceful hands. As we moved to our tables, I found myself seated between Caesar Romero best known as TV’s The Joker and Katherine Ross (The Graduate, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). I was so overcome with seeing the many famous people in one place, it became this delightful blur of a memory that seemed to take a milisecond as I danced near Jon Voight.

Years later I realized movie stars were just people, some nice and some truly horrible. But for a special time in 1970, I lived a California dream.

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Friendship Sex and The City Style

Posted on June 5, 2010 by Deborah

Friendship SATC style

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who do mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind”. Dr. Seuss

 

Sex and the City inspired me to discontinue my lively internal monologue and finally embark on some serious blog posting about girlfriends. No other television show in history made us realize the value of our girlfriends and their impact on our lives.We spend so much time trying to find our soulmate we forgot how difficult it is to find the special girlfriend connection. As Samantha exclaimed in Sex and the City 2, “You are my soul mates!” Every friendship I’ve had has taught me invaluable lessons about character and loyalty.

I grew up in an atmosphere similar to “Slums of Beverly Hills” with my divorced mother and sister. I was the only overweight member of an unholy trinity of jealousy and treachery. I learned as early as 8 the only way I was going to thrive was to develop friendships outside with girls of a similar, gentle nature. I had best friends who shared the same weird sense of humor, passion for writing, reading, art, fashion, music and film. We learned an emotional shorthand as a result of the deep empathy we felt. Girlfriends offered me the normalcy of a nurturing relationship, believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I gained faith that somewhere in the harsh world exists an oasis of acceptance and love.

When I was 15 I attended prep school to escape a step monster. All the girls had names like Muffy, Buffy and Molly, clear complexions, perfect long legs and straight blond hair. Not only was I one of two overweight girls in the entire school, but I was one of five Jewish students and not rich. The stark contrast of my plus size appearance along with my other differences set me worlds apart and deepened my feelings of isolation. I carried the burden of a dark family with a simmering melancholy while these girls sparkled with lightness and confidence. Then I met a girl named Kathi who “got me” instantly. She sang Elton John on the piano while I drew and wrote poetry. Somehow we were living in the same key during our adolescent angst.

My girlfriends became mother and sister to me during my formative years. As I reached my early twenties in NYC I became attracted to friends that amused and entertained, pursuing more superficial friendships until I met Algy (Algeretta) through an eccentric neighbor she was dating. I met one of the most influential people in my life-my best friend. With her strong Mid-western work ethic, pioneer woman stability, and expansive heart, she taught me lessons about coping with life’s curve balls. She showed me that real friends are there for you during the broke times and when you’re doing the not so fun things like moving or getting a divorce.

Some things I’ve learned in the pursuit of my friendships with WOC (women of character) who can become your soulmates:

In order to have a woman of character as a friend, you’ve got to be a WOC (woman of character).

Friends show up in the most unlikely women. My moslem friend, Nasia shared her distrust for Jews until she became friends with a Jewish jeweler when she had mistakenly assumed he was an Arab. She shared this “aha moment” with me. Now we jokingly refer to each other as cousins because we’re really all related!

Realize some women have two faces. The one they show you and then the one they show to the rest of the world. Frenemies suck.

Any friend who makes you feel diminished by her competitiveness is not a WOC. Our true friends don’t deliver little shtecks (shitty things) for the purpose of demeaning you.

Get a backbone. Sometimes taking up for a friend challenges other relationships.
Be willing to go the distance for a real friend.

Keep your eye on the big picture. Is this a petty argument that you’re willing to set aside for all the many beautiful attributes of your friend? You should. Finding a WOC is no piece of cake, but the rewards are a
major source of happiness in your life.

If you’re holding a grudge about an argument, but realize that you really miss and love that friend, for goodness sake pick up the phone or drop her an e-mail to say
I will own my shit now and the role I played in it.
Be ready and willing to process the disagreement until the hurt feelings are addressed.
WOC forgive and have the sense to pick up the phone and say. “Are we OK?”

To this day I still feel like the odd woman out, navigating a similar world in my neighborhood where I am the fattest woman in the room, the only Jew with the big opinionated, liberal mouth. I’ve come to realize that as one male friend recently said. “You’re an acquired taste”. I still try to embrace my uniqueness despite the loneliness it sometimes causes me. As I age, superficial friendships hold little allure. I’ve never been comfortable with lukewarm feelings about friends or lovers. We either have the feeling of two souls singing in harmony or not.

Friends are the foundation of my life, enriching and creating a cocoon of love. They care about my struggles, treading gently when I need it, but also providing a reality check when necessary. I don’t need to convince them of my worth. They honor me with their devotion and I am privileged to call them friend.

Love,
Deborah

Posted in Relationships | 4 Comments