doppelgängers
/“You’ve lost half an inch” is not an expression you ever want to hear. Not if you’re a seamstress, a worm, a carpenter, a tightrope walker. Not if you’re a vertically challenged woman trying to puff up every measly feather she has.
I argued with the nurse. “There must be something wrong with your ruler . . . I didn’t stand up straight . . . I’m having a slumpy day . . . Are you sure you don’t need glasses?” I tried it all.
Then I went home, got out the tape measure, stood tall as a light saber, and fixed myself against the height wall we keep for kids in the family. No matter how I puffed myself up, telepathically extending every hair on my squat head, my mere five foot three had shrunk closer to five foot two, and people have been calling me shrimp more than ever.
Shrimp, elf, hobbit, half-pint. Better, at least, than half-wit.
It’s better, no doubt, than lots of other rude awakenings. Still, it’s a mystery where that fraction of verticality went. A normal collapse in the spine perhaps, in the muscles, the tissues. Or did I inadvertently lose that length and forget where I left it, another great advantage of aging?
I have lots of perky answers when people note my dwindling: “I’m keeping the ground warm . . . Don’t step on me . . . I’d like a kids’ meal, please.” One friend tried to pick me up. Hilarious. Another wrapped his arms around me, glared at the top of my head, and asked, “Why are you so short?” Ha! . . . So funny, so original.
It’s the kind of welcome remark I get all the time without hardly trying.
So, on behalf of all petites angling for a seat with a view, hemming every dress, straining to reach the rice on the top shelf—I decided to try harder. Here’s what I came up with: doppelgängers.
I’ll explain.
Some of the most beautiful, capable, desirable women in the world are equally challenged when it comes to stature. We don’t know it, perhaps, because we see them in movies, on TV, where everything is unreal.
I’d rather be their equals in money, fame, and talent, yet I’m satisfied if they simply boost our brand. Especially after reading new evidence that doppelgängers, or lookalikes, truly exist and may share some of our DNA.
With all you lovely Lilliputians out there in mind, I’m thus taking a leap of faith and pointing a finger at a list of possible doppelgängers who could be our secret twins.
If you’re a blue-eyed blonde, maybe it’s Reese Witherspoon, a miniscule five foot one. Are your eyes hazel? Maybe your twin is Lady Gaga, same height as tiny Reese. We’re not sure what Gaga’s real hair color is, but now we know why she wears those nine-inch heels.
More on the brunette side? How about five-foot-two Eva Longoria, named one of the most beautiful women in the world. Or sexy Zoe Kravitz, Eva’s same small height. Or dancing Paula Abdul, an even five-foot tall. Or shakin’ five-two Shakira from Columbia, whose hips don’t lie, so why should we about our height, our weight, our age? Though not telling is surely different than lying.
Every time I see myself next to giants in a mirror or photo, I can’t believe it’s me. I peer into the image with squinty eyes, my mouth agape, my tongue hanging. Who is that little bitty person? I’m stunned.
Kim Kardashian, also five-two, doesn’t feel that way. She adores looking at herself and maybe we should, too. If you’re dark-haired, brown-eyed, full-lipped, and full-bottomed, perhaps your doppelgänger is billionaire Kim. She’ll be shorter when she’s older. Just saying.
Think your lookalike is brainy? Ruth Bader Ginsberg topped out at five-one. Love your history? Cleopatra, a real man killer, was an even five. Athletic? Consider Simone Biles at just four-eight. Attracted to science? How about five-foot tall Madam Curie, the first woman to win a Nobel Prize.
All of us, it seems, have these unknown copies, likely more than one. Now all we need to do is find them, adopt them, brag about them, adore them, marvel at them. They’re us!
Prove it otherwise.
The next time someone decides my height is so funny, I’ll propose my doppelgänger Gaga would disagree. She may not be the perfect twin, but I do have hazel eyes like her, although—I’ll gently note—I’m a full inch taller than she is. One whole full inch taller.
Ha!