Why that slightly heavy girl is hot (while others are not)

noone (well almost) bothered to answer this guy's question

he was asking (more or less):

what things can make a girl attractive to you, despite them being a size (or body type) you do not usually go for?

I've always wondered this myself, I can't figure it out

 

I feel very strongly that it has to do with "insticts," I guess. It's like how men are attracted to a woman with child-bearing hips. A woman who is slightly heavier probably looks healthier to the cave-man part of our brain and also would be able to provide for the the result of our attraction to them: a child.

 

i won't even hang out with fat girls, much less sleep with them.

 

This is well put. It's personality, intelligence and humour which makes somebody fun to be with and generates chemistry.

There's probably a bit of truth in that too. Smart and all as we think we are, we can't really get away from these instincts.

 

I think it's something like an instinct too, at least in the sense that it's beyond our control, but I believe we may be born hard-wired with certain preferences. Like, the body type that turns us on may be as immutable and pre-determined as the gay/straight preference is.

Years ago, I tried getting involved with a woman who was way fat for my tastes, and I found I couldn't get past it. She had so much going for her in other ways. She was smart, she was funny, she was otherwise attractive, she carried herself well, she had confidence, she was a medical doctor, and she came on to me hard. I was a bit reluctant, and she laid on the "Honey, you haven't had nothin' until you've had me--I'll Rock Your World" bit, and I thought, Get over it, man. Do her. So I did.

But after a couple of months, I realized I wasn't getting past it. At home, she tended to go naked a lot (as do I), but I never found the sight of her body appealing. It didn't gross me out, it was just... nothing. I've had other lovers who were casual nudists at home. I never got tired of looking at them. They always turned me on.

I called myself six kinds of shallow, but in the end I had to break off our relationship (at least the sexual part; she busted up the rest, not that I blame her). When you're fucking with your eyes closed and fantasizing about other women just to get it up, something is wrong.

One night, I recall, we were talking in bed, and I suddenly burst into laughter for no outwardly apparent reason. It probably sounded pretty hysterical and Gene Wilder-like. She asked me what on earth was wrong, and I couldn't tell her. It would have been mean to tell her. But the thought that had spontaneously popped into my head was, Darling... in this light, you look just like... Rodney Dangerfield.

Well, in that light, she did.

So, I broke it off. I told her the truth about why (that her weight was the issue, not that she looked like Rodney Dangerfield). She didn't take it well, said she didn't believe me, said my fragile male ego just couldn't handle a woman who made six times what I did.

Whatever. I hope believing that made it easier for her.

 

Depends on her face, you kind of just know when a girl is fat/obese but is really still very attractive because she has a really cute face. IMO, girls who just are friendly are very attractive. But sadly, some girls are just not that at all, some are just nasty and have this extreme sense of ego that they are somehow superior to you, because you started the conversation and not them.
Some insult you and expect you to just go running back like a dog, ha! and some guys are pathetic enough to do just that.

 

You have your moments when you are truly disgusting.

I am a zaftig woman, and I'd like to think that men are drawn to me for my personality, intelligence, competency, and self-confidence. But I have a feeling that the real reason is because I have dreadlocks, tattoos, piercings, bare feet, and big tits.

I admit I am jaded and disillusioned about love and romance, and am rather enjoying my celibacy at the moment.

 

Oh, I was probably thinking like a caveman. I believe my thought processes went something like, This woman is begging you to strip her and fuck her. Strip her and fuck her, man! That's pretty caveman-like.

Rationality of a higher order would have had me politely declining, and finding somebody I really wanted. But I was only 24. She was about thirty... and not only an M.D., she was a psychiatrist. She knew how to find all my buttons and push them, although she claimed she never did that.

Right.

 

Actually, it was still the 20th. Around 1986, as a matter of fact. And it wasn't easy, and I'm not proud of it. I shouldn't have been with her in the first place.

Something I didn't mention was that, although I started to realize I was in trouble after only about two months, I stayed with her almost two years. It took me another six months after the initial realization to get it through my thick skull that it wasn't going to work, that I wasn't going to change, that shallow or not, I couldn't alter the template in my head; then, I made myself miserable and stressed out so badly over it that I gave myself a seizure, right before I was about to break the news to her. It happened at dinner with friends. When I came to, I was blind in one eye (not one side of my visual field; one eye, which she said was odd). Scared the hell out of her--remember, she was a doctor.

She had me in the emergency room within thirty minutes. "You don't just start having seizures and blindness in your mid-twenties for no reason," she said. By that time, my vision had come back (it looked really trippy coming back, too). She was sort of exasperated because I wouldn't let her call an ambulance, so she drove me there. And boy, let me tell you something: when a doctor brings you into the E.R., people move! The treatment you get is totally different from what Joe Schmoe gets.

They told me I'd have to spend the night. I said I didn't want to. The E.R. doc said he was sorry, but he wanted a scan as quickly as possible, and the scanner operator was a hundred miles away. My girlfriend told the E.R. doc that maybe he hadn't heard me, but "Mr. Croen said he didn't want to spend the night." The poor man repeated that the radiologist was in Oklahoma City. My girlfriend told him to put the guy on a Life Flight helicopter and get him there.

They put him on a helicopter and got him there. My girlfriend jumped in and lied when he asked me if I'd eaten. She wanted the scan right then, too. I barfed all over the poor bastard when the iodine went into my vein. At least he saw my distress and got me out before I barfed all over his machine.

So for the next two weeks, I waited. She waited with me. She was wonderful and supportive. We were both scared. And in the end, the diagnosis was... no big deal. Mild seizure disorder, low seizure threshold, no need for medication. The neurologist told me to avoid drinking and stress ("I never said this, but I'd much rather you smoked pot than drank," he said) and sent me on my way. He said I'd probably never have another one, and I haven't.

I was so grateful for everything she'd done that I stayed with her another six months. Then I dumped her. I went home and held a stuffed raccoon she'd given me and cried. I felt like a heel.

No, I'm not proud of it.

 

Wow, so much drama that could have been avoided by honesty.

 

Exactly.

 

Honesty and men? That would be a topic for future thread.

 

Like it's just a men's issue! I stayed with Ken for months because every time I'd think about leaving he'd drag out that damn guitar.

 

You can't be honest if you don't know yourself. Like I said somewhere else, we men don't have the same emotional mechanism that women do. When we're feeling one emotion, we aren't even aware of the other baggage back there, waiting to pop out. Generally speaking, we're not good multi-taskers. It's not fair, but there it is.

 

I think we women are culturally conditioned to not be straightforeward with what we are feeling, and to distrust our perceptions: "Man, this relationship sucks!" "But he plays so beautifully he must be really sensitive!" *mentally slaps self for own stupidity*

 

Curvy women are sexy. Very sexy. I am a curvy girl and my boyfriend and my ex-husband both think I'm beautiful and sexy. I don't wear makeup, I wear all second hand clothes that I like and that flatter me, my hair is long and I keep it pretty well maintained. I don't think it's necessarily the weight of the woman that attracts the man -- it's more the way she carries herself. Think of someone like Queen Latifa -- she is a plus size woman, but with her gorgeous skin, pretty smile and ready laugh, i think she is very very hot. There's a woman in my office that is the same way -- she is a heavy woman, but she wears clothes that flatter her, is always ready for fun and she is really very sweet. She is one of the most beautiful people in our office.

Now on the other hand, there are curvy women who obsess about their weight, growl about how fat they are and can really just turn a person off. At the same time, there are skinny chicks who fit into the same catagory. Who wants to listen to someone beat themselves up because they had mayo on their sandwich? Gimme a break. THAT is unattractive.

It's not about the curves -- it's about the confidence.

 

if it really is all about confidence, why will all you girls use a dozen synonyms but not the word fat?

 

The same reason you'd would probably call yourself assertive and opinonated instead of just an asshole- Positive and negative connotations.

 

no, i'm pretty sure i'm an asshole. hungover, too.