Today's New York Post has a delicately titled story called "Who's Your Fatty?" in which a couple of New Yorkers discuss addressing a friend's weight. Victor, 31, was friends with a clinically obese woman for 10 years. She broke his couch; he broke his silence. But he waited. "It wasn't until eight years after the couch incident that I finally had the audacity to bring up what was there all along," he says. "And even so many years later, it was very difficult to sit down and tell her that, at about 500 pounds, she wasn't healthy and had to do something about it," Jacky, 25, watched her friend gain 50 pounds. "I thought, if I'm not going to tell her, who will? I'd want her to tell me, so I sat her down and told her I've noticed her weight gain. It was a tough conversation, but ultimately for the best." A question to Jacky and Victor: Did you really need to tell your friends that they were fat?

Do you think a 500 lb. woman doesn't know that she's obese? Do you think that a woman gains 50 lbs. without noticing? The Post's Marina Vataj writes, "While friends tell friends and loved ones to stop smoking, drinking, shopping and even sleeping around, addressing a friend's weight remains taboo." Damn straight it does. Drinking and smoking are vices you can live without. Eating is required for survival. When does overeating become a problem? When is eating an addiction? Surely everyone is different and the tipping point is different for each individual. But with all of the weight-loss ads, hyperthin celebrities and calorie-cutting segments on the news, it's hard to believe that any woman would be oblivious about being overweight. Even if framed in the "I'm doing this because I care" context, the fact remains that ones body and what one puts in it is extremely personal. So isn't choosing to "discuss" a weight problem with a friend actually choosing to announce your problem with a friend's weight? Do you even go there? What do you say?

Who's Your Fatty [NY Post]