Cut the crap!

Cerise writes:

I have recently noticed an alarming trend in our language.  It is a specific form of negative body-talk.  So many articles, ads, and women use very violent imagery when discussing parts of their bodies.  Think about it:  banish your butt, burn fat, carve off your curves, destroy your belly, slice your flab, melt your belly, dump your gut, kill your cravings, blast your thighs.  Is this a nice way to talk about yourself?  What would you say to a product that promises to destroy women's bodies?  Doesn't sound so nice now, does it?  What about slicing, cutting, burning?  Why is it okay to use language like this?

I can't decide where this language comes from.  Does it spring from our acceptance of violence against women in popular culture?  Does it come from our habit of insulting overweight people (and, for that matter, not-so-over-weight celebrities?)  Is it just an expression of the very real loathing some women feel for parts of their bodies?  

Well, stop it!  I don't care where it comes from.  It is not okay to talk about yourself or anyone else this way.  Don't buy products that promise to act out violence on your body.  Don't accept this sort of language.

When I took a college course on propaganda (very cool course, by the way), we discussed the insidious impact of propaganda.  Even if you are a very smart, educated person, it seeps into your thinking.  Even if you know it is propaganda, if it is repeated often enough, it soaks into your head.  Even if it is clumsy, stupid propaganda, if it is not contradicted, it is hard to resist.  Advertising is perhaps the most pervasive form of propaganda in our society.  Don't say it is trivial, it is not.  Don't think you can ignore it, you cannot.  But do not accept it.  Do not let it go unchallenged.  The best way to combat propaganda is to recognize it for what it is and to actively disagree with it.

Not interested in a diet, thanks.

Cerise writes: 

Actually, I don’t want to lose weight, thanks.  Yes, I have noticed that I am fat, but I’m okay with that.  I am not on a diet, I don’t want to hear about the latest fad diet, and I don’t hate the way I look.  For me, at least, there are two ways to deal with the way I feel about my body:  accept it or hate it. I would rather not hate my body and try to starve it into submission. 

I tried that, when I was younger.  I was anorexic.  I was five foot eight and I weighed less than 100 pounds.  Actually, I sometimes weighed less than 90 pounds.  At 100 pounds, my body mass index would have been 14.8.  At 90 pounds, it would be 13.3  The lowest healthy body mass index for women is 18.5.  By the way, the online BMI calculator I just used told me that 90 pounds for a height of 5’8” was “healthy.”  Apparently it is not aware that a BMI below 17.5 is one of the criteria for anorexia. 

And I thought about food all the time.  I was always hungry.  Did you know that if you are hungry enough you get a buzz?  Sort of like a runner’s high.  I was addicted to that high.  Of course, I was still not happy with the way I looked.  I thought I was fat.  I despaired because my ribs and hip bones were so huge and stuck out so far that I could never be truly skinny.  I was just big boned, so I would never be as thin as I wanted to be.  That kind of thinking seemed normal to me.  Perhaps because it was reinforced by so many voices around me:  my mother, other girls, advertising, even the textbooks in school.  Thinner was better, they said.  Having a healthy appetite was unfeminine.  Being beautiful meant being skinny.  Always being on a diet was normal.  I didn’t come up with those disordered thoughts on my own, I learned them from the society around me. 

I hope you all realize how ridiculous this weight-loss ad image really is.  

Like many teenagers, I was shy.  I didn’t want to attract attention.  The thinner I got, the less space I took up, the closer I got to being invisible.  I wanted to disappear, and I got as close as I could.  Those of you who know I studied ballet might think that part of the problem was the cult of thinness in the dance world.  For me, at least, that wasn’t the source of the problem.  My dance teachers were pretty healthy in their attitude towards weight.  They urged us not to eat junk, but to choose real food.  And they also told me to gain weight, that I was too thin, that I would have more stamina if I wasn’t so skinny.  They are not to blame for my anorexia. 

When I look at photos of myself back then, I am horrified at how thin I was.  I looked awful, not beautiful.  I looked like I had some sort of disease.  I did, anorexia is a disease.  It is not a choice, it is not normal, and it can kill you.  Why didn’t anyone notice I was starving myself?  Well, I was very good at pretending to eat.  And my parents were pretty busy living their own lives.  I ate breakfast alone, and I literally took two bites of cereal and threw the rest away.  I often skipped lunch, unless my best friend could convince me to eat something.  She knew something was wrong, she was worried about me.  I did eat an almost normal dinner, because my parents were watching.  They were firm believers in family dinner time.  But I got really good at pushing food around on my plate, hiding food in my napkin or my pocket, and just pretending to eat. 

I think that I sort of wanted someone to notice, to tell me to stop starving myself.  But no one did.  In fact, I got a lot of positive feedback for being so thin.  Other girls were jealous.  And my mother made me beautiful clothes, elaborate things like prom dresses.  She dressed me like a Barbie doll.  When I got to a normal weight, she pretty much stopped sewing things for me.  I guess it wasn’t any fun to dress me when I didn’t look like a mannequin any more.  I suppose it just goes to show that fashionable clothes are made for unnaturally skinny people, not for normal-sized folks. 

It is very odd to me that my current state of obesity inspires total strangers to tell me to eat less.  It makes friends and co-workers tell me about this great new diet.  It makes my mother give me diet books for Christmas.  But why didn’t my pathological skinniness make people speak up?  Did they, like me, believe girls should look like Barbie dolls?  (I admit, I’ve never had Barbie’s breasts.  But then, again, who does?)

Notice Barbie's shrinking swimwear!

Future topic:  how did I claw my way up from self starvation to fat acceptance?  

Love Your Body! (Just Not in OUR Clothes)

On the yoga wear company “Lululemon” website Laura M wrote a blog, “Love Your Body.” In it she asks us to recognize the “human body is beautiful.” She also tells us:

“I don’t know the what, when, where, why and how, but, somewhere along the line, we were told that our bodies weren’t good enough. We were told that we should cover-up, hide from the world, if we weren’t a certain body type. Well, forget that!”

Amen, Sister! Sign me up! I’m fired up! Let’s go! Except..oh..wait...I’m not a Lululemon customer.

I can’t be.

According to a recent article at the Huffington Post, “Shunning Plus-Size Shoppers Is Key To Lululemon's Strategy, Insiders Say,” the company’s business model is not to sell any size above a 12. Additionally in many of it stores it is routine not to shelve anything higher than a size 8.

The average size of a woman in this country is a size 14.

I’m not even average sized; I’m bigger. So I’m definitely not the Lululemon customer. There’s nothing on their website for me except some words.

All of this isn’t new. This actually reminds me of something which happened to me back when I was Freshman in highschool. See, I’ve been a full figured woman all my life. Even when I was kid spending my summer riding bikes, hiking in the woods, swimming in the lake, etc... I’ve always been that awful three letter word: FAT.

When I was freshman we had our own separate building where we went to school. It was also the last year of mandatory gym class. Now, I was never very good in gym. However, I enjoyed it. I liked playing games.  I was competitive (still am), but a good sport. Of course it was great to win, but just getting out and playing, whether it was bowling, field hockey, dodgeball, soccer..etc.. was awesome. Sure I loathed running but I could survive that for the chance to play.

As our Freshman year started to come to a close and we had to start choosing classes for our sophomore year I was in a quandary. As a sophomore gym class would no longer be mandatory. Although I knew I wasn’t good at sports, I liked playing. I also understood that exercise was important and that gym class was the one place I exercised consistently. So I went to talk to my gym teacher. I wanted to ask her about whether I should take gym class as a sophomore. Her response, “Gym in high school is really more for athletes.”

So there it was the beginning of an ugly truth in this country. If you fat or overweight you are told, “Lose the weight!” Get active! Exercise! However this is followed by, "Our gym is for athletes and that's not you," or, "Your body doesn't fit our corporate image, so you can’t wear our clothes.”

Now on one hand you might wonder, what’s the big deal? It’s a fitness company. Why should they sell plus sized clothing?

Lululemon is a company which has built its image by focusing on fitness, and not just physical but mental/emotional fitness as indicated by its manifesto. Why would they give lip service to the human body being beautiful, but then exclusively sell only sizes that the average woman cannot wear? Why help keep perpetuating the idea that her “body” is wrong?

If Lululemon is a company that really wants to focus on fitness and clothes for active wear why not sell for women who are active; all women? Do they believe that plus size women don’t exercise? Does Lululemon believe there’s no active wear market for plus size women?

That’s must be a big surprise to Juno Active. They have been in business since 1995.  They offer plus size active wear size 14 and up.  While their “manifesto” won’t be mistaken for a motivational poster it’s still worth a read. Especially when they write statements like:

“We believe that plus size women deserve good quality, fashionable clothing. The Juno Active website is unique in encouraging the plus size woman to "Embrace Your Active Life." We focus on the 40% or more of American women who wear plus sizes and are looking for top-quality gear for workout, ski, swim, camping and more. Juno Active is known for its high-tech fabrics, great fit and functional design that often just can't be found anywhere else. “

Wow! Imagine that a company that recognizes that an average size woman might like do things like swim, camp, ski, etc... Oh, and they are not alone. Just My Size also has a line of workout clothes for us “plus” size women; including yoga pants (surprise Lululemon: they are less $98). I could list other plus size active wear lines. It isn’t hard, just Google “Plus size active wear.”

The point is Lululemon is very much like Abercrombie & Fitch as envisioned in an infamous interview with it’s current CEO, Mike Jefferies. They don’t carry plus sizes because plus sizes don’t fit the image of who they want their customers to be.

So while a Lululemon representative can maintain, “We agree that a beautiful healthy life is not measured by the size you wear,” as quoted in another Huffington Post article. The company has gone on to say “we don’t have plans to change our current sizing structure which is 2-12 for women."

Look, I’m not pushing for Lululemon to sell “plus” size clothes anymore than I’m asking for Juno Active to sell size 2 active wear. Yet, I’m looking for some honesty and awareness here. Don’t tell me to love my body with one message and then “shame” for me not having the “right body” in the next.

At the very least I would love a company that sells ‘fitness’ wear to at least acknowledge the fact they do not sell any clothes which would fit the average size woman. At Lululemon, the average size woman who walks into their store is as unwelcome as someone like me.

I would like to say I defied my gym teacher and showed up ready to tackle high school gym my sophomore year. It didn't go that way. I didn’t take a gym class and I’ve wrestled with being active ever since.

However, a few years ago I did discover an activity that would change my life. No it didn’t make me a supermodel. Yes, I struggle with my weight still. Yet I exercise regularly with a community that celebrates healthy lives but does not measure health by size or age: belly dance.

It’s a good thing there are companies like Juno Active, Just My Size and others where I can get the active wear I need.

*edited by TB