The funny, exuberant, inspiring antidote to body shame--a full-color graphic memoir celebrating the imperfections of the author's female body in all its glory. Too tall. Too short. Too fat. Too thin. The message is everywhere--we need to pluck, wax, shrink, and hide ourselves, to not take up space, emotionally or literally; women are never "just right." Well, Ariella Elovic, feminist and illustrator extraordinaire, has had enough. In her full-color graphic memoir Cheeky, she takes an inspiring and exuberant head-to-toe look at her own body self-consciousness, and body part by body part, finds her way back to herself. How does Ariella learn not to see herself as a never-finished DIY project, but to accept and even love the physical attributes society taught her to hide? How does a mirror go from a "black hole of critique" to a "who's that girl" moment? Essential to her journey is her posse of girlfriends, her "yentas." Together, they discover that sharing "imperfections" and some of the gross and "unsightly" things our bodies produce can be a source of endless laughs and deep bonding. It helps to have a team with some outside perspectives to keep our inner bullies in check. Charming and hilarious, full of empathy and candor, and gorgeously illustrated, Cheeky aims to inspire women everywhere to embrace their bodies, flaws and all, and also their respective bodies' needs, desires, and inherent power.
A Beat Most Anticipated Graphic Novel of Fall 2020 The funny, exuberant, inspiring antidote to body shame--a full-color graphic memoir celebrating the imperfections of the author's female body in all its glory. Too tall. Too short. Too fat. Too thin. The message is everywhere--we need to pluck, wax, shrink, and hide ourselves, to not take up space, emotionally or literally; women are never "just right." Well, Ariella Elovic, feminist and illustrator extraordinaire, has had enough. In her full-color graphic memoir Cheeky, she takes an inspiring and exuberant head-to-toe look at her own body self-consciousness, and body part by body part, finds her way back to herself. How does Ariella learn not to see herself as a never-finished DIY project, but to accept and even love the physical attributes society taught her to hide? How does a mirror go from a "black hole of critique" to a "who's that girl" moment? Essential to her journey is her posse of girlfriends, her "yentas." Together, they discover that sharing "imperfections" and some of the gross and "unsigh