Ending the 'Friendly' Fat Talk In the Health section, Jan Hoffman writes that ""Fat Talk" Compels but Carries a Cost." What's "fat talk"? Here's her example: Over winter break, Carolyn Bates, a college senior, and a friend each picked out five pairs of jeans at a Gap store in Indianapolis and eagerly tried them on. But the growing silence in their separate fitting rooms was telling. At last, one friend called out, "Dang it, these fit everywhere but my thighs! I wish my legs weren't so huge. The response: "My pair is way too long. I need to be taller or skinnier! "Fat talk," Ms. Hoffman writes, is a bonding activity for many women (and even for men) with 93 percent of college women telling one researcher that they'd engaged in it. But "fat talk" isn't a pleasure. It keeps the talker's focus on weight and physical appearance, and when one member of a conversation throws the f-word into the mix, it's tough not to respond with self-denigration to show empathy and understanding: First friend: "I can't believe I ate that brownie. I am so fat! Second friend: "You must be joking - you are so not fat. Just look at my thighs. When our daughters and sons are in the mix, though, it gets even more important to navigate these "fat talk" forays without getting sucked in - and it's difficult. Lines like "I shouldn't eat this bagel, it will go straight to my thighs" and "no dessert for me, I need to diet" are ubiquitous, and our children are listening. If nothing else, they're learning that this is how we - or at least we women - talk about food. But I suspect they're learning more than that. Children today report being concerned about their weight at 6 years old, and even younger. Some research suggests that as many as 80 percent of 10-year-old girls say they have been on a diet. Would that be the same diet many have been listening to their mothers describe since they were in the womb? There's a line between talking about healthy eating and healthy choices, and talking - often - about how those choices affect our appearance, or at least the way we feel about our appearance. When we talk about food one way directly to our children, and in a different way to our friends, our children notice, and it's no surprise that the grown-up way holds its own appeal. So what do we say, when the fellow mom we're picnicking with on a Saturday at the beach pushes aside the cookies with a comment about her swimsuit? As Alexandra F. Corning, a research associate professor in psychology at the University of Notre Dame, told Ms. Hoffman, it's not a moment for activism. Try "You look fantastic, and fantastically happy - now who's up for a swim?" When the cookies are passed your way, take one to enjoy, or don't - but without comment. Picnics and family meals are wonderful places for sharing food and fun" while keeping our personal fixations with food and weight to ourselves.