My friend Birch over at BeepBoop posted a wonderful pic for me today of a giant man with his regular sized friends. I love these pictures. Well wouldn’t you know, I have some pics of a giant person with regular sizers that I would like to post. And the giant featured in these pics is ME.
Guys seriously, I’m only five foot ten inches, but I appear to be a monster-sized woman. I noticed this trend in some pics taken at my friend Susan’s wedding. Please note, Susan is five foot seven, but appears to be a midget next to me. She is even in giant heels in the first pic, but to no avail.
Example #1: Bridesmaids and Brides
Example #2: The Hike
If you ever wonder why us giants slouch, let the above images be your answer. We don’t like looking like giraffes in pictures. I’ve been this height since I was about eleven years old, and it’s been a traumatizing experience my whole life. All you five foot sixers who love to chastise us tallies for not loving our height should walk one day in our ballet flats (probably size 11s) and get back to us. “Oh I’d kill to be your height!” The five sixers say. “It’s so glamorous! Wah wah blah, I’m five foot six!” Shut your fucking average sized mouths. You have no idea how lucky you are. It’s only the models who are glamorous at this height. The rest of us lumber around, hogging up space in the street and on subway cars, awkwardly trying to cram into backseats and airplanes. There is nothing glamorous about J Crew not having tall sizes in stores or getting stuck attempting to exit a roller coaster because your legs are so massive they got wedged in the roller coaster leg compartment. You think there’s suffering in Darfur? Try the giant person walking right behind you. WE are suffering. A lot.
Damn, I am seriously so tall.