Underrated: Tatianna Butler

A new occasional series, Underrated is not intended to be about judging decisions - if it was, we could probably run a post about every single woman who's ever competed! Instead, we aim to (re)focus on women who we think do not enjoy the prominence they deserve in the collective female muscle consciousness - someone a new recruit to the female muscle lovin' world would not necessarily come across.

UNDERRATED?



Less than 30 pics on GwM, and no more than a five-page thread on the forum whose first rule is... and the majority of those pages are taken up with more recent, post-retirement pics (more about that later). It's highly unlikely - as it is with all of the women we feature on Underrated - that you would underrate her if you know her, but with that kind of coverage, then it's also unlikely you have come across Tatianna unless you're old enough to remember her from her turn of the millennium pomp.



She was of that era when the line-ups at the USAs and the Nationals read like a list of all-time favourites compiled by some 40-something muscle head (like me). Sarah Dunlap, Heather Policky, Bonnie Priest, Gina Davis, Colette Nelson, Michelle Tuggle, Lora Ottenad, Sherry Smith... I could go on. She competed with distinction against all of them, she totally looked the part, but ultimately Tatianna - despite a couple of top 6 finishes - never placed high enough to win her pro card and compete at the very highest level. After a (thankfully) brief (and unsuccessful) dalliance with the Figure division, she would only ever get out her posing suits again for paying clients. She went "under the radar" as I believe they say on the dark side.

CAREER



If she was competing now and at her 2001-2002 peak, I'd say she would have won just about all of the IFBB shows so far in 2018, with only the Toronto Pro a possible exception. However, in her time she was just one of a thunderous cohort of soon-to-be greats and others, like her, who would have been greats in another decade.



From Baltimore, we first find her competing locally at the Eastern USA Championships in 1996 as a "novice". Four years later she is at the Atlantic States Championships earning her only class and Overall win.The year after that, at her first national level show - the NPC USAs - she makes the Heavyweight top 6, and then at the North Americans places 4th behind Lisa Aukland, Colette Nelson and Carmen Brady.



Though she undoubtedly looked great in 2001, her peak, I would say, came in 2002 at the NPC Nationals. In a Heavyweight division packed with some of the best female muscle ever (not only compared to today but also any other day) Tatianna placed 4th, a 5'9" ripped ebony Amazon showing off her genetic gifts and exceptional development in all their glistening pumped glory. In the judges' opinions, she was bettered on the day only by Sherry Smith, Alley Miesch-Nie and Overall winner Sarah Dunlap. She never reached such competitive heights again - placing 13th at the Nationals in 2003, and the less said about the return as a Figure competitor in 2005 the better.



If you haven't noticed already though, it's time to point out that as well as being a 5'9" ebony Amazon, Tatianna was (and still is, more about this later), an absolutely gorgeous woman. This muscle + beauty combo was then, as now, much in demand on the schmotography circuit, and while it's not easy to find contest pics of Tatianna, she did more than her fair share of glamour work. WPW/Ray Martin (as always) got in earlier than most, much of their work with her done while she was very much in her voluptuous (and quite frankly f***ing ginormous) off-season shape.



There was work with Physique Art (remember them?!) and others that showcased Tatianna in pretty much a "mainstream" glamour kind of way - a model who just happened to have massive muscles! Awefilms, on the other hand, tended to use her as an "action girl", beating up unfortunate/fortunate (depending on your point of view) male weaklings in mini-movies "Sista Paine" and "Gladiatrix FemMuscle Action".



She was also memorably (in my house) shot by Ivana Ford (again, remember her?!) and perhaps most memorably of all by Bill Dobbins, wearing nothing but some sand.

APPRECIATION



The day after the muscle worship episode of Louis Theroux's Weird Weekends aired, I overheard four women in my office discussing the show, and particularly the Female Bodybuilders it featured. "Yuk!" was pretty much the capsule review - Louis spends most of his time talking to Maria Calo and her (short-lived) husband, you may recall. I expected nothing less, I'd been bitterly disappointed not so much by the portrayal of the world I was so fascinated by, but more the choice of subjects. They could have had Yaz Boyum, but instead we got Maria, and the fans Louis spoke to... embarrassing. But then one of the women says, "except Tatianna" and to my delight they all agreed. She was "lovely" they said, "such a sweet person", "so girly", "yes, very feminine".



And it wasn't just on British TV that Tatianna got noticed. She was a regular on those US chat shows that used to feature FBBs from time to time in a kind of "all woman" pro-female muscle way (those were the days, eh?!). Hardly surprising then that Dobbins selected Tatianna (not, note, Maria Calo) to represent his work on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno when doing publicity for his (racy) book Modern Amazons.



She was - on top of being an outstanding amateur Bodybuilder at a time when future legends were all over the NPC - an articulate, funny, stunningly beautiful, strong woman. And whatever "it" is that makes some muscle women capable of reaching out towards the mainstream and not being mocked, she had that in spades as well.




NOW



As you can see, she has still got most of those qualities today. She's still hot, one forum poster says. She's just not big anymore. Oh really?! That bicep is an illusion, is it?

Watch that (mostly cringeworthy) Louis Theroux episode in full here, or just the "Meets Fans of Female Bodybuilders" segment here. I haven't turned up any of the Jay Leno footage, so if you know where it can be found then please do get in touch.

Underrated will return.

(More) Summer Lovin': Sizzler

Not an "official" Sunday Sizzler, but it is Sunday and this woman is volcano hot, so...

Kim is one half of "The Dynamic Duo", a couple "working on their fitness" and documenting that work on their shared Instagram. Don't be scared though, I say "shared", but you could count the pics that feature Mike on one hand, while you'll need more than one hand to count the pics of his hot and hard better half posted today.

We're posting just the one.



We think it'll make you want to see more...

Enjoy!

Summer and Summer Lovin' ends here. FMS is back to normal tomorrow.

The (Mis)Adventures of C. Moore Glootz IV

We left my good self residing at Her Majesty's Pleasure.

No sleep that first night I lay awake expecting to be buggered at any moment, I really did. "Indecent exposure", my friends, gets you a shared cell in the wing reserved for others who offences are of a sexual nature, any of them. I didn't know what my cellmate was in for - when I asked he didn't say, which hardly calmed my nerves. I tried again and again to conjure up some comforting gloot-based images. None came to me, and so I lay there, imagining bad bad things, staring at the ceiling, clutching my rough blanket to my chest as if it were a protective cloak. Longest night of C. Moore's life.



Freedom, denied.

Group therapy, compulsory.

"If I could only show you what I'm talking about..."

The laughter. Even our therapist couldn't resist a smile.

What was it exactly about me that they found so funny? I was here to co-operate. That first night had scared the bejesus out of me. I wanted out asap. Sooner than that even.

Slowly, the laughter subsided.

A hand went up.

"Yes, John?"

"I was just wondering, Miss, maybe we should see some pictures of these women he's on about," he started to air jack. "You know, see for ourselves how f***ing irresistible..." He cracked up the room followed. I was surrounded by fools.



I got a pal to print and send some adornments for the cell.

My cellmate - not as scary as I'd imagined - didn't object.

"Not my cup of tea, mate, but it's live and let live, innit."



He even gave me a bit of alone time in exchange for a few quid.

"Yeah, knock yerself out, mate. Mind yer mess though."



Group improved as well. They'd stopped laughing anyway.

Still, it was far from pleasant first few weeks.

Time seemed to stand still. How C. Moore yearned to have unlimited internet access again, and how I despaired at all those brand new muscle butt images I was missing out on. How I longed to go out to the streets and search for new, tight and toned targets.

"Am I making good progress, would you say?"

I collared the therapist, our "Miss", after session one morning.

"Are you...?" She looked genuinely shocked. Was I standing too close? I'd seen others talk privately to her, surely I wasn't breaking any rules... She composed herself.

"Take a seat, will you?"

The next thirty minutes or so were the second most life-changing minutes I have ever experienced. She spelt it out, and - I now realise - for the first time since that big lock in that big door had gone "click", and what's more probably for the first time for many many years - C. Moore listened, really listened. And I learned.



I hadn't actually made any progress at all, she told me. As long as I continued trying to blame the women for my predicament, without even a hint of responsibility for my own actions, no progress would be made. "If you actually listened to the others in the group," she said, "you'd know that already. They've been where you are, blaming their victims. Sooner or later you have to realise it's your fault and you have to change."



C. Moore spent that night lying awake. And the next, and the one after that.



I lay awake and imagined a different life. A number of them in fact. A life without muscle butts, cold turkey, total abstinence, would be, I knew, a life not worth living.

If I was to change, that was not an option...



And so I began the private, hermit-like existence I live now. Occasionally I do have to venture out, and I'd be lying if I said there haven't been a couple of moments when certain urges have had to be resisted, but so far, so good. The memory of my period at Her Majesty's Pleasure with just 18 images, just 36 glorious glootz for company has proved the ultimate deterrent. I've even found some (albeit temporary) employment!



Private worship only. I'm with the majority now.



It feels more comfortable than I ever thought it would.

C. Moore's MOST WANTED, an 18-month 2018-19 calendar containing all 18 images that kept our anti-hero company in his cell through those long dark nights of the soul is available now or postal order from FMS. Send a SAE and a cheque for £25.00 payable to FMS, Inc. to the usual address. Hurry while stocks last!

Supranatural

C. Moore, I am very pleased to say, is getting mail.

Seems some of you are actually appreciating my temporary takeover here.

Many of you also have questions, the majority on subjects which are scheduled to be answered in future posts - I still have (dare I say, at least?) two more weeks to go.

However, there were a couple of things that I wanted to set straight today.

First, no, of course it's not my bloody real name. My real first name does actually begin with C, but that is just a coincidence. C. Moore Glootz is a parody of - not a homage to - Seymore Butts, American pornographer. And without wishing to appear unkind, a fairly obvious one I would have thought. So now you know. Thanks for asking!

Secondly, there have been more than a few messages wanting me to declare "what kind of glutes" I prefer, more or less explicitly asking me to choose between Bikini-type girls, the various forms of Figure/Bodyfitness, Physique ladies, or big bad FBBs.

I don't discriminate.

I'm for all of them. And more.

Crossfit, athletics, beach volleyball, gymnastics... You name it, and if there are muscular rears on show I will watch and enjoy. Yes, OK, my top favourite behinds ever tend to come from the Female Bodybuilding realm, but that might be because during my formative muscle butt lovin' years there was no Bikini, no Figure/Bodyfitness, and no Physique either, so the vast majority of the gorgeous glootage I saw in that period in my life belonged to FBBs. These days, of course, there are relatively few of those.

Probably the best idea is for me to illustrate what I mean with some of the more recent additions to my "Special Favourites" folder. All shapes and sizes, all incredibly hot.





I guess what they all have in common is "unnaturalness", whether that means they are unnaturally big and round - take Anastasia's above, so gargantuan they leave rooms a good few seconds after her sunglasses do - or of the more shredded, tighter, harder - perhaps more obviously unnatural - variety. Either way, all these women have trained their behinds; none would look like this if they had simply let nature run its course.









So perhaps "supranatural" would be a better way of describing their bums (and their bodies in general). Smooth or shredded, Figure or Physique, Bikini or Bodybuilding, all women who lift are engaged in a fight to transcend what nature would have them be.



Have you seen Lauren Martin Stow's recent work with HerBiceps? The clips where she is in the street somewhere busy, wearing more than she could have got away with sure, but still showing off plenty. When I got over the amazement that not one guy had stopped and reached for his crotch to pay tribute - as C. Moore would have done (in times past, not since I got fixed, I should say), I began to fully appreciate just how ridiculously different LMS looks to every single other woman who walks into shot, a contrast so stark an alien visitor would think they were different species altogether.



And there would be little doubt which species was superior.



So the answer to the question is simply "supranatural ones". And I will continue to scratch my head at anyone who insists they "only go for FBBs" or whatever. These categories are arbitrary anyway, defined not by the women themselves, but by aging men in suits. Why pay any attention to them? Just celebrate the supranatural.