This is a Stretch.

Has a woman ever not been self-conscious
Of her body? When Eve ate the fruit was she ashamed of her sin or just
Her cellulite? I find it hard
To believe that women who store a little extra lard
Are happy. I'm no stick myself, but that's the point. If I can't be happy,
Ten or thirty pounds off the going rate, how can any one be.
I've heard of a tribe across the sea where men
Like their women large. I'd have to see it to believe it. When
People are starving and those of us are sulking
After eating 2x2 inches of succulent brownie, crying when our clothes cling
A little tighter than they did, blame it on the drier.
Ignore those girls on the fliers.
We all know that the images
Seen on those billboards are edited. That the purging and the binges
Will destroy our molars. But no one
Listens to that. We know it's fake, we wrinkle our noses, but they've won
Us over with sexy sex and diamonds. Five-year-old's worry
About if their butt looks good in their jeans. The jury's
Out. We want to change. It's because
Our Northern tribes no longer climb trees or chase tigers. Everybody Loves
Raymond and reality TV. We live through their experiences.
Work hard, and long, and when we retire behind our white picket fences
We can holiday in Belize and Panama. I used to be told to finish
my food because there are children starving in Africa. They missed
The point. Put less on your plate
And the last few mouthfuls aren't so hard to swallow. And we hate
Waste, don't we?
Don't we?