June 26, 2001. Well. Actually, it was 2019. I sat at Red Rocks. Morrison, Colorado.
First concert in over a decade.
My husband and I. Never done this together before. Both huge Kacey fans. I spent an hour on makeup. Rainbow theme. For “Rainbow.” A song about lifting someone out of the dark. It resonates. I wore the scarf. The fake flowers. Pride month. High hopes.
Also high anxiety.
I have fibromyalgia. Pain is a constant companion. Fatness is a liability. Red Rocks is brutal for anyone who isn’t a sprinter. Handicap parking helped. But bench seating? Dread. Who would sit next to a large, disabled body?
T-shirt? Impossible. My size doesn’t exist there. I knew it. The internet trolls were already circling in my mind. Just lose weight. Easy for them to say.
She opened with “Slow Burn.” The neighbors arrived. Woman and her friend.
I smiled. She didn’t smile back. She scooted. Far away.
There was empty space next to the friend. Plush. Unoccupied. But no. I was the threat.
I tried to let it go. I did. Music is magic. That night remains perfect. Despite her.
Fast forward.
May 2026. Middle of Nowhere is out. “Dry Spell” is everywhere. Stuck in my head. Best since Golden Hour. I was even considering Denver.
Then the wheelchair arrived.
Motorized. Because pain wins eventually. It wasn’t easy to accept. The “lazy” accusations sting. I’m also clumsy. Fear of crashing is real.
But freedom is sweet.
No more worrying about squeezing into bench seats.
Then. Threads.
Megan Ixim posted. A world-famous star basically told a fat Latina to go screw herself.
I frowned. Whaaat?
It was Kacey.
The context: The Kacey Lee collab. Lee Jeans. Walmart.
Huge collection. Over 100 items.
Plus sizes? Missing. Almost entirely. More clothes for dogs. Literal dogs. Than for human beings above a size 12.
Megan pointed it out. Rightly.
Kacey replied.
“Hiii not in my power. Sorry you are disappointed. Hope this helps! 💕”
Wait.
That. Is. Bad.
Walmart. A place known for having XL and XXL racks? Sure, it’s fast fashion. But their name is on it.
“Hiii not in my power.”
Powerful people don’t lack power.
They exercise it.
She could have stayed quiet. Ignorance is bliss sometimes.
Instead. She offered pity. With an emoji.
Hope this helps.
It helped nothing. It mocked her.
Subtly.
But mockingly nonetheless.
Megan took hate. Of course. Fat voices get silenced. Violent. Ugly. Connected to larger trends of shrinking bodies. Fascism adjacent.
I don’t want to cancel Kacey.
I like her music. Still hear “Rainbow.” Still cry at the chorus.
But I wonder about the tickets.
Accountability matters.
Celebs profit from our wallets. They don’t profit from our comfort. A thin person writing checks for a fat world never understands the sting of seeing an empty rack. It isn’t just sad. It’s violent.
Kacey had a moment.
She chose defensiveness over empathy.
No apology for the brand. No promise for the next time. Just a shrug. Not my job.
That’s the job.
Being an icon means lifting others. Not just yourself.
I wait for the day. A star called out. A response full of grace. Learning.
Until then? I scream about it. Loud.
Megan deserves credit. She spoke. Kacey flinched.
The industry notices.
