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A post by DoubleX writer Amanda Marcotte:
It's increasingly clear that for many in the fashion world, there are two kinds of women: those about to die from starvation, and fat women. There's been a disturbing denouement to the controversy over Ralph Lauren's overzealous Photoshopping that led to a picture in which a model's hips were narrower than her head: The model in question, Filippa Hamilton, was fired for being "overweight." It took me a while to find a good, nonaltered picture of Hamilton so you can judge for yourself, but it seems to me that if you can call that woman "fat," it might actually be time for psychiatric intervention for your delusions ... (Read the rest of this article in DoubleX).
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Last week Dahlia linked to a piece by Salon's Rebecca Traister about TV Land's new dating show The Cougar, in which a bunch of young dudes try and woo a 40-year-old woman. Traister hates the show and the whole cougar phenomenon in general because, "Of all the things that men do that women might reasonably wish to do as well isn't this....mimicking the midlife crisis-penis-car-crippling-insecurity version of mature masculinity...one thing we could have just walked away from without regret?" Some behavior isn't empowering, for anyone, and should be left well enough alone.
A story in this weekend's New York Times got me thinking a similar, if inverted, thought. It was a piece about how Hollywood's leading men are getting fat. Seriously. Apparently, the expanding waistlines of Russell Crowe, John Travolta, Denzel Washington, Hugh Grant and Leonardo DiCaprio constitute a trend worthy of examination in the paper of record. The piece's writer, Michael Cieply, describes a scene between Crowe and Jeff Daniels in the just-released State of Play as "Two men. One notebook. Four chins." Ba dum dum ching. To reverse paraphrase Traister, of all the things women do that men might reasonably wish to do as well, obsessing over one's weight—or being publicly shamed about that weight by the media—shouldn't make the list.
New York's Vulture points out that some might say, "[T]his kind of criticism levels the playing field a bit and puts men in the same position that women have faced for years." I would say it just gives everyone body-image issues.
Cieply writes in his piece that "Hollywood's women may [may!!] have weight issues of their own. But it is somehow less noticeable, possibly [possibly!!] because actresses who expand do not often get roles to showcase that growth." In other words, larger women hardly ever appear in movies because they never, ever get cast. Is it noble of the Times to draw attention to this double standard? So that, what? Larger men don't get cast either? Perhaps, in the interest of equality, actors, just by virtue of turning 45, should start losing roles—exactly like their female counterparts! Then we’ll never have anyone who looks even remotely like a normal, middle-aged person in any movies ever again, but, at least, that would be fair. Or, you know, equally unfair.
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Both Us Weekly and People put falling star Jessica Simpson on their covers this week, where they're defending her from nasty Internet chatter about her recent weight gain. (The smack talking was set off by these photos. Obviously, if the haters were going to be mean about something, it should have been the belt.) People went the uplifting, school-marm route ("She's Proud of Her Body: Stop calling her fat! Inside the bold choice to lead a real life") while Us practiced it's more typical schizophrenia, simultaneously sympathizing ("Jessica's Agony: Bullied for her weight") and twisting the knife ("Suddenly back with a trainer"; "She's tortured by food"; "Did Tony cheat?")
While I can't help but feel some sympathy for Simpson—I'm sure getting skewered for looking like a regular person isn't pleasant—when I think about how tiresomely manipulative the whole drama is, my compassion dissipates. Bottom line: Getting called fat is the best thing that could have happened to Simpson’s career, which is in desperate need of a boost. (The photos that started it all were taken at a chilli cookoff where she was performing.) As Oprah has taught us, nothing generates goodwill quite like courageous, highly public struggles with one's weight. The tabloids and Simpson have taken note and jumped on some Internet trash talk, hoping to reap the benefits in copies sold and minutes in the spotlight.
It worked for Tyra Banks and Jennifer Love Hewitt, who were both recently involved in "You call me fat, I earn public sympathy" kerfuffles. Banks appeared on the cover of People ("You Call This Fat?") in January 2007. Besides aiding Banks' ongoing, ultra-serious mission to become Oprah's heir apparent, it helped drum up interest in yet another cycle of America's Next Top Model. After pictures of Hewitt in a bikini made the rounds in December 2007, she landed on the cover of People ("Stop Calling Me Fat"), possibly her biggest brush with relevancy since Party of Five. Eight months later, Us Weekly put her on their cover for losing "18 lbs in 10 weeks" because, obviously, it's great to be comfortable with your body, but better to be a size 2.
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Hey Melinda, when you get off your fainting couch, John Kerry did NOT give that speech—not in the memorable, reimagining-family-values way that Judith is imagining. And yes you're right, Rachael, these issues are divisive, and I guess I have to reluctantly agree that it wouldn't be in the Democrats' interest if Hillary or Obama decided to have a Big Gender Moment. Which is why, as Dahlia and Melinda started out by acknowledging, we're not having it. But I applaud Judith's list, especially in its attention to economics and employment, which never quite seem to get their due and catch on fire, and so leave two-working parent families scrambling to keep it all together. I'd like to think that someday the country will be ready for and will find the candidate who will make universal preschool seem as important as saving Bear Stearns.
On a lighter note, earlier this week I watched Fifty Nude Women by Margot Roth of New Yorker Talk of the Town fame and marveled at its winsome playfulness. The women in this 12-minute film seem entirely at ease in their bodies, of all varieties. I'm with Jezebel in that the video made me think about weight but in a much less tedious way that usual. The curves and rolls and wrinkles and scars and stretch marks signaled vulnerability and also a record of lives fully lived.
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