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Yes, but people who are not famous also get eating disorders, and people who are famous do not get eating disorders, and some people are just skinny, presumably...
Case in point. A woman of my acquaintance used to maintain, and to the best of my knowledge still does, that thin women were jealous of her because she was a real woman, not a stick figure, and that all the boys really fancied real women, and not stick figures, because real women had butts and boobs and all the other things that men liked.
Which, as a "hips tits power" piece of positive thinking is great, except of course that a) it is not about self, but about who the boys fancy more, and b) the assertion relies on a polarity where the skinny girls are placed in a position of inferiority. It's an inversion, not an equalisation.
If somebody has an eating disorder, they have an eating disorder, and they are sick. If somebody does not have an eating disorder (Thora Birch? Vanessa Feltz? Nigel Lawson) but loses weight or changes body-shape, to describe them in terms of being sick is presumably as unhelpful as describing a large person as "obese" when they are not clinically obese (and what does *that* mean, anyway?), because it just focuses attention back on constantly holding up the body, and in particular the female body, against an idealised form, however that form looks, and finding it wanting.
None of which excuses the pressure that celebrities are placed under to conform to the ideal...except that I suspect it's a bit more complex than that. Sophie Dahl, for example; her whole schtick was being 3 sizes larger than a "normal" model (and thus, to nick Deva's phrase, "normal-sized"), that was what made her bankable and unique. So what induced her to battle down to waifishness, when there are so many other models with far more experience at being a waif?
It's curious and rather unsettling.
To change tack a little, does any desire to reduce (or for that matter increase) body weight indicate an unhappy relationship with one's body? |
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