One thing struck me immediately upon my arrival at the RT Booklovers’ Convention, and that was the proliferation of abs. So many abs! Abs on the elevators, abs on the walls, abs in the welcome bag, abs plastered all over the promo materials. Abs, abs, abs, abs. I don’t even care about abs and I’m in female-gaze hog heaven. Is this what Hooters feels like for a heterosexual man?

Scratch that; I’m skeptical that Hooters feels quite so tongue-in-cheek, so self-aware.

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The large pillars scattered across the first floor of the hotel had been festooned with abs.

This particular banner was the biggest I found. Admittedly, the abs are underneath a shirt, but the shirt isn’t really doing much concealing. Frankly, it’s there as an ab-enhancement technology. In person it was like staring at the Colossus of Rhodes, but abs. (Chairs for scale.)

It was so big that even this small inset was wholly overwhelming.

The bag we were handed upon registration was chock full of abs.

There were abs on the elevators.

Obviously the cover model party was heavy on the abs, including several multiple-foot-tall banners.

And there were handouts featuring pocket-sized abs.

If you prefer muscled backs or bulging arms, don’t worry—you won’t be entirely ignored.

But mostly it’s abs for days. Abs everywhere. A city of abs.


Contact the author at kelly@jezebel.com.

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