I don’t watch much trash TV, but my one guilty pleasure is “Kendra”. I used to watch “The Girls Next Door” but when the original girls disbanded and the new ones came in, I made the switch. Kendra is hilarious. Sometimes ditzy, always silly, I get a kick out of her.
I became especially enthralled with her when she became pregnant. After recently having a baby myself, it was really intriguing watching a former Playboy playmate go through the ups and downs of pregnancy. It was different than watching “A Baby Story” or “16 and Pregnant”. She was a playmate! Tiny waist, nice sized tush, enormous boobs. It was like watching a real-life Barbie doll blowing up like a balloon.
It was reassuring to see her week after week, a little more bloated in her face and swollen in her belly. It was exactly what I had gone through. And then to watch her in labor (though not at all what I went through) was somehow oddly reassuring as well.
The aftermath of having a newborn, however, is what I related to most. In the episode that just aired, with her and lil Hank back at home, it showed how very real she is indeed. She was still carrying baby weight, was still a little puffy in the face, and was so overtired that her eyes were swollen. They also filmed her fragile moments where she showed her insecurities and fears for her future.
One scene in particular really got to me. She was supposed to be going out for a night on the town with her playmate friends, and while she was getting ready she started getting upset with how she looked. She went into the bedroom and started to cry while she told her husband how ugly she felt. It was so real. I have read a thousand times, in a thousand different places, that it takes time to get back to your pre-pregnant self and I know almost every woman on the planet must go through the same rollercoaster of emotions, but this… watching Kendra be as upset as I was… was a relief!
I know Kendra has a plethora of fitness support to help her get back in shape, but it was comforting to see that someone as beautiful and perfect as a Playboy playmate is just as insecure, scared and weepy as I was after giving birth to my son.
Turns out my one guilty pleasure, celebrity-obsession hasn’t been for naught. Celebrities are real people too. Just hope I can make things happen without the fitness entourage.
