Tall Woman Blues
I'm singin' the Tall Woman Blues.
Ain't singin' 'bout high-heeled shoes.
Singin' 'bout the way I was born,
Feelin' a freak...an' forlorn.
A funny thing happened to me the other day. I was shopping in the supermarket when another woman turned to me and said in an exasperated but matter of fact tone, "Would you get that fabric conditioner down for me? It's supposed to be on the lower shelf but it never is!" I smiled and got the bottle down for her. She said, "Thanks" and just walked away.
Now, being asked to get stuff down from tall shelves is a common experience for me and I really don't mind but usually people express a bit of embarassment and are rather gushy in their apologies and thanks. This woman was entirely matter of fact - as if I was an employee. I had on a patchwork floral skirt, witchy-poo shoes and a shopping basket over my arm so I don't think she mistook me for a Coles lady!
Maybe I just had some tall person's duty statement stamped on my forehead: "Tall Woman - able to reach high shelves in a single reach"! I dunno. Puzzling!
Anyway, it got me thinking about what it's been like these last three years as a really tall woman (6'4") on top of a lifetime of being a really tall person.
My endocrinolgist got out his tape measure when he saw me the first time; checking my measurements and thumb joints and sternum for signs of what he quaintly called, "Arachnodactylia", an old term for Marfan's syndrome.
He doesn't believe I have enough symtoms to "qualify" but when I saw the photograph my friend Belinda took of me at the beach I knew why he'd thought I might have. My arms and legs are disproportionately long. They are like great spider limbs; like vaccuum-cleaner hoses coiling and writhing out into the world; my hands and feet - much too big I think - like great attachments on the end.
I grew up dealing with being really tall and the taunts that came with that by becoming separate from my body. "Oh! That body, never seen it before in my life". I think I was in my mid-forties before I ever really saw myself in the mirror.
Now, however, I have "grown into my skin"; now I am me, right through. There's no where to go; no escape.
So, anyway, I was thinking I might jot down some experiences peculiar to being a very tall woman.
Children
Children are very observant of difference - they are discovering all the wondrous diversity of life for the first time; raw, barely obscured by their parent's prejudice. They stop and look up and stare. "Mummeeeee" (urgently tugging mum's skirt) "mummmeeee!! Look at that very tall lady!" "Yes! C'mon we're in a hurry!"
Other women
I don't especially think of other women's height - except when we're together in some close personal space - like the close physical interaction of a workshop or group. Then I feel like a great giraffe hulking over their 5'4" "normalness".
Other tall women
There's not a lot of women my age who are my height but increasingly I come across young women over 6' - some my height or nearly so. For a few seconds I walk alongside them, my spirit soars, "I am not alone". I feel my grateful heart bob along behind them like a momentarily happy balloon, And then they're gone, into their own world of tallness in the midst of "normal"
Men
I feel a certain protectiveness or momentary obscurity when tall men walk by; feel self-conscious in a lift full of shorter men. Vulnerable. How will they cut me down to size, safeguard their ego? This time. In the mall, I pass a group of what I call "socially disadvantaged males" They look at one another and smirk; miming the motions of climbing a ladder. Their generally unspoken, but not always, words declaim, "You'd have to climb up a bloody ladder to root that". Perhaps, being transsexual, I should take such ignorant misogyny as a compliment (?)!
Relationship
I do not know what it is like to have my man's largeness loom over me, surround me, protect me. I do not know what it is like to lean up against my man and only come up to his shoulder, even in high heels. What would this statistical height difference do to my consciousness; if I had always experienced that? What does it do to my consciousness to almost always be taller than the men around me?
My boyfriend
When I wear flatties Alex quips, "Hi! shortie!" but I am still a bit taller than him. I ask him if it worries him; he says, "No" - he's the original Mr Natural! Alex has muscular dystrophy so his side of the lounge is propped up with extra cushions so he can get up easier. That makes me lower and I get to rest my head in the soft hollow of his shoulder. Oh! That dear friendly spot!
Supermarkets
See comments above re tall woman's appointed duty to other shoppers!
Check out chicks
"Orh! My Gord. You're so tall! I would so love to be that tall!" Say no more!!
Clothes shopping
When I walk into a smaller shop, like Katies or Sussan's, I catch myself involountarily cringing, imagining the staff thinking, "Who's she kidding, she's not going to find anything to fit her here!" Do they ever think that? I dunno. The thought just comes and goes. I still go in and shop. Life...and shopping must go on!
Pants
Fergetit! Ain't nowhere in the known universe where a gal like me can get pants off the rack that are long enough. Target have a so-called Tall range...Ha! That's not "tall", that's slightly less short!
Dresses and skirts
Mmm! Works both ways. I've had to learn to be able to judge the length of a skirt hanging on a rack or mannequin. Knee length on normal inhabitants of planet Earth is gonna show my bony knees! On the other hand ankle length skirts that often look frumpy on other women come to below my knees and show enough leg to be stylish (well that's what I think - let me have something, pleeeeaze!)
Shoes
Fergetit doubletime! I take a 12 in sandals or a 13 in court shoes (altho' you never can tell- sometimes 111/2 is just right and 13 is too big). There's only three shops in all of Sydney that have my size. Considering that such shops tend to get one or maybe two of any size and style I've got to wlak in on exackly the right day and time to beat every other long-footed woman to the punch (pump?) Another woman might have to choose between numerous variations on a white sling back mid heel. Me I've got to take the only style in white-slash-beige-slash-pale black they've got - even if I hate it! You know it puzzles the crap outta me how manufacturers of longer sizes in women's shoes (listen, we don't say 'bigger' - right?!) seem to assume that I don't want to wear exactly the same styles as every other woman. Hey! Guys! My feet are different - not my bloody brain! Things are getting better - it is now possible to buy size 12 or 13 shoes which are definitely not PC (that's Podiatrally Correct!) Hey!! if I can cripple my feet like every other woman things must be lookin' up!
Buses
Now they make buses high enough to stand up but to compensate the seats are now closer together! Can't win! I love the older buses with roomy seats. Isn't it strange that just when women and Asian people are getting taller, they make the seats closer together! Oh! I shouldn't complain, think how many more troops we'll be able to send to Iraq if we put the seats closer together!
Trains
Double-decker train roofs are embarrassingly low. I wait till the last person is stepping down the stairs before I get up to get off. Especially, if I'm on a train full of school boys. A self respecting tall woman should not offer herself up as cannon-fodder to the neanderthal!
Beds
No problem! I'm terminally foetal.
Ain't singin' 'bout high-heeled shoes.
Singin' 'bout the way I was born,
Feelin' a freak...an' forlorn.
A funny thing happened to me the other day. I was shopping in the supermarket when another woman turned to me and said in an exasperated but matter of fact tone, "Would you get that fabric conditioner down for me? It's supposed to be on the lower shelf but it never is!" I smiled and got the bottle down for her. She said, "Thanks" and just walked away.
Now, being asked to get stuff down from tall shelves is a common experience for me and I really don't mind but usually people express a bit of embarassment and are rather gushy in their apologies and thanks. This woman was entirely matter of fact - as if I was an employee. I had on a patchwork floral skirt, witchy-poo shoes and a shopping basket over my arm so I don't think she mistook me for a Coles lady!
Maybe I just had some tall person's duty statement stamped on my forehead: "Tall Woman - able to reach high shelves in a single reach"! I dunno. Puzzling!
Anyway, it got me thinking about what it's been like these last three years as a really tall woman (6'4") on top of a lifetime of being a really tall person.
My endocrinolgist got out his tape measure when he saw me the first time; checking my measurements and thumb joints and sternum for signs of what he quaintly called, "Arachnodactylia", an old term for Marfan's syndrome.
He doesn't believe I have enough symtoms to "qualify" but when I saw the photograph my friend Belinda took of me at the beach I knew why he'd thought I might have. My arms and legs are disproportionately long. They are like great spider limbs; like vaccuum-cleaner hoses coiling and writhing out into the world; my hands and feet - much too big I think - like great attachments on the end.
I grew up dealing with being really tall and the taunts that came with that by becoming separate from my body. "Oh! That body, never seen it before in my life". I think I was in my mid-forties before I ever really saw myself in the mirror.
Now, however, I have "grown into my skin"; now I am me, right through. There's no where to go; no escape.
So, anyway, I was thinking I might jot down some experiences peculiar to being a very tall woman.
Children
Children are very observant of difference - they are discovering all the wondrous diversity of life for the first time; raw, barely obscured by their parent's prejudice. They stop and look up and stare. "Mummeeeee" (urgently tugging mum's skirt) "mummmeeee!! Look at that very tall lady!" "Yes! C'mon we're in a hurry!"
Other women
I don't especially think of other women's height - except when we're together in some close personal space - like the close physical interaction of a workshop or group. Then I feel like a great giraffe hulking over their 5'4" "normalness".
Other tall women
There's not a lot of women my age who are my height but increasingly I come across young women over 6' - some my height or nearly so. For a few seconds I walk alongside them, my spirit soars, "I am not alone". I feel my grateful heart bob along behind them like a momentarily happy balloon, And then they're gone, into their own world of tallness in the midst of "normal"
Men
I feel a certain protectiveness or momentary obscurity when tall men walk by; feel self-conscious in a lift full of shorter men. Vulnerable. How will they cut me down to size, safeguard their ego? This time. In the mall, I pass a group of what I call "socially disadvantaged males" They look at one another and smirk; miming the motions of climbing a ladder. Their generally unspoken, but not always, words declaim, "You'd have to climb up a bloody ladder to root that". Perhaps, being transsexual, I should take such ignorant misogyny as a compliment (?)!
Relationship
I do not know what it is like to have my man's largeness loom over me, surround me, protect me. I do not know what it is like to lean up against my man and only come up to his shoulder, even in high heels. What would this statistical height difference do to my consciousness; if I had always experienced that? What does it do to my consciousness to almost always be taller than the men around me?
My boyfriend
When I wear flatties Alex quips, "Hi! shortie!" but I am still a bit taller than him. I ask him if it worries him; he says, "No" - he's the original Mr Natural! Alex has muscular dystrophy so his side of the lounge is propped up with extra cushions so he can get up easier. That makes me lower and I get to rest my head in the soft hollow of his shoulder. Oh! That dear friendly spot!
Supermarkets
See comments above re tall woman's appointed duty to other shoppers!
Check out chicks
"Orh! My Gord. You're so tall! I would so love to be that tall!" Say no more!!
Clothes shopping
When I walk into a smaller shop, like Katies or Sussan's, I catch myself involountarily cringing, imagining the staff thinking, "Who's she kidding, she's not going to find anything to fit her here!" Do they ever think that? I dunno. The thought just comes and goes. I still go in and shop. Life...and shopping must go on!
Pants
Fergetit! Ain't nowhere in the known universe where a gal like me can get pants off the rack that are long enough. Target have a so-called Tall range...Ha! That's not "tall", that's slightly less short!
Dresses and skirts
Mmm! Works both ways. I've had to learn to be able to judge the length of a skirt hanging on a rack or mannequin. Knee length on normal inhabitants of planet Earth is gonna show my bony knees! On the other hand ankle length skirts that often look frumpy on other women come to below my knees and show enough leg to be stylish (well that's what I think - let me have something, pleeeeaze!)
Shoes
Fergetit doubletime! I take a 12 in sandals or a 13 in court shoes (altho' you never can tell- sometimes 111/2 is just right and 13 is too big). There's only three shops in all of Sydney that have my size. Considering that such shops tend to get one or maybe two of any size and style I've got to wlak in on exackly the right day and time to beat every other long-footed woman to the punch (pump?) Another woman might have to choose between numerous variations on a white sling back mid heel. Me I've got to take the only style in white-slash-beige-slash-pale black they've got - even if I hate it! You know it puzzles the crap outta me how manufacturers of longer sizes in women's shoes (listen, we don't say 'bigger' - right?!) seem to assume that I don't want to wear exactly the same styles as every other woman. Hey! Guys! My feet are different - not my bloody brain! Things are getting better - it is now possible to buy size 12 or 13 shoes which are definitely not PC (that's Podiatrally Correct!) Hey!! if I can cripple my feet like every other woman things must be lookin' up!
Buses
Now they make buses high enough to stand up but to compensate the seats are now closer together! Can't win! I love the older buses with roomy seats. Isn't it strange that just when women and Asian people are getting taller, they make the seats closer together! Oh! I shouldn't complain, think how many more troops we'll be able to send to Iraq if we put the seats closer together!
Trains
Double-decker train roofs are embarrassingly low. I wait till the last person is stepping down the stairs before I get up to get off. Especially, if I'm on a train full of school boys. A self respecting tall woman should not offer herself up as cannon-fodder to the neanderthal!
Beds
No problem! I'm terminally foetal.
posted by Paula at
10:07 pm
1 Comments:
Arachnodactylia - what an amazing word, brings all sorts of weird and wonderful things to my mind; lost worlds, crypto zoology, giant spiderwebs spanning whole forest clearings sparkling with dew drops in the sunrise... My ex-husband Stefan is about the same height as you, similar build (but not as slender) and so is his sister ( I don't know exactly how tall she is) They move like giraffs on the savanna, tall and graceful, proud and elegant. If anyone says anything to them about their height they just look down at them with one raised eyebrow, "Who's bothered? Not me."
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home