If You're Fat and You Know it, Read the 'Post'
New York's beacon of class and style, the Post, has hit the street like a Cosmo intern with a "Do's and Don'ts" deadline. And while we hate pantylines as much as the next fashionista, reporter Orla Healy's manner of mocking that "carb-friendly look that's spreading like a pair of child-bearing hips across the city," characterized by "lumps of puckered lard cascading over the chafing waistbands of skin-tight skirts," seems a little unnecessary. Borderline cruel, even, like those high-school bitches who would point and cackle at the special-ed kids who wore tapered jeans.
Or maybe we're just oversensitive — Healy is a journalist with a job to do, and she won't stop until Martha Dumptruck is dead and gone.
