The legacy we leave our daughters…

I try my very best to only project body-positive attitudes in the presence of my daughter.

Even when she points out my wobbly bits.

Really, I attempt to minimise discussion about image at all, and instead focus on other qualities, trying hard, being clever, being kind, good manners etc. But with the best will in the world I can’t remove all the other influences in her life, even if some of them are ultimately negative, and nor should I attempt to.

What I can do, though, is try to inspire her to see herself in as positive a light as possible, through making sure she sees me see myself in as positive a light as possible.

And here’s why:

It’s a very poignant letter from an Australian book called ‘Dear Mum‘: a collection of letters from Australian sporting stars, musicians, models, cooks and authors revealing what they would like to say to their mothers before it’s too late, or would have said if only they’d had the chance, with profits going to the Australian National Breast Cancer Foundation

“Dear Mum,

I was seven when I discovered that you were fat, ugly and horrible. Up until that point I had believed that you were beautiful – in every sense of the word. I remember flicking through old photo albums and staring at pictures of you standing on the deck of a boat. Your white strapless bathing suit looked so glamorous, just like a movie star. Whenever I had the chance I’d pull out that wondrous white bathing suit hidden in your bottom drawer and imagine a time when I’d be big enough to wear it; when I’d be like you.

But all of that changed when, one night, we were dressed up for a party and you said to me, ”Look at you, so thin, beautiful and lovely. And look at me, fat, ugly and horrible.”

At first I didn’t understand what you meant.

”You’re not fat,” I said earnestly and innocently, and you replied, ”Yes I am, darling. I’ve always been fat; even as a child.”

In the days that followed I had some painful revelations that have shaped my whole life. I learned that:

1. You must be fat because mothers don’t lie.
2. Fat is ugly and horrible.
3. When I grow up I’ll look like you and therefore I will be fat, ugly and horrible too.

Years later, I looked back on this conversation and the hundreds that followed and cursed you for feeling so unattractive, insecure and unworthy. Because, as my first and most influential role model, you taught me to believe the same thing about myself.

With every grimace at your reflection in the mirror, every new wonder diet that was going to change your life, and every guilty spoon of ”Oh-I-really-shouldn’t”, I learned that women must be thin to be valid and worthy. Girls must go without because their greatest contribution to the world is their physical beauty.

Just like you, I have spent my whole life feeling fat. When did fat become a feeling anyway? And because I believed I was fat, I knew I was no good.

But now that I am older, and a mother myself, I know that blaming you for my body hatred is unhelpful and unfair. I now understand that you too are a product of a long and rich lineage of women who were taught to loathe themselves.

Look at the example Nanna set for you. Despite being what could only be described as famine-victim chic, she dieted every day of her life until the day she died at 79 years of age. She used to put on make-up to walk to the letterbox for fear that somebody might see her unpainted face.
Ad Feedback

I remember her ”compassionate” response when you announced that Dad had left you for another woman. Her first comment was, ”I don’t understand why he’d leave you. You look after yourself, you wear lipstick. You’re overweight – but not that much.”

Before Dad left, he provided no balm for your body-image torment either.

”Jesus, Jan,” I overheard him say to you. ”It’s not that hard. Energy in versus energy out. If you want to lose weight you just have to eat less.”

That night at dinner I watched you implement Dad’s ”Energy In, Energy Out: Jesus, Jan, Just Eat Less” weight-loss cure. You served up chow mein for dinner. (Remember how in 1980s Australian suburbia, a combination of mince, cabbage, and soy sauce was considered the height of exotic gourmet?) Everyone else’s food was on a dinner plate except yours. You served your chow mein on a tiny bread-and-butter plate.

As you sat in front of that pathetic scoop of mince, silent tears streamed down your face. I said nothing. Not even when your shoulders started heaving from your distress. We all ate our dinner in silence. Nobody comforted you. Nobody told you to stop being ridiculous and get a proper plate. Nobody told you that you were already loved and already good enough. Your achievements and your worth – as a teacher of children with special needs and a devoted mother of three of your own – paled into insignificance when compared with the centimetres you couldn’t lose from your waist.

It broke my heart to witness your despair and I’m sorry that I didn’t rush to your defence. I’d already learned that it was your fault that you were fat. I’d even heard Dad describe losing weight as a ”simple” process – yet one that you still couldn’t come to grips with. The lesson: you didn’t deserve any food and you certainly didn’t deserve any sympathy.

But I was wrong, Mum. Now I understand what it’s like to grow up in a society that tells women that their beauty matters most, and at the same time defines a standard of beauty that is perpetually out of our reach. I also know the pain of internalising these messages. We have become our own jailors and we inflict our own punishments for failing to measure up. No one is crueller to us than we are to ourselves.

But this madness has to stop, Mum. It stops with you, it stops with me and it stops now. We deserve better – better than to have our days brought to ruin by bad body thoughts, wishing we were otherwise.

And it’s not just about you and me any more. It’s also about Violet. Your granddaughter is only 3 and I do not want body hatred to take root inside her and strangle her happiness, her confidence and her potential. I don’t want Violet to believe that her beauty is her most important asset; that it will define her worth in the world. When Violet looks to us to learn how to be a woman, we need to be the best role models we can. We need to show her with our words and our actions that women are good enough just the way they are. And for her to believe us, we need to believe it ourselves.

The older we get, the more loved ones we lose to accidents and illness. Their passing is always tragic and far too soon. I sometimes think about what these friends – and the people who love them – wouldn’t give for more time in a body that was healthy. A body that would allow them to live just a little longer. The size of that body’s thighs or the lines on its face wouldn’t matter. It would be alive and therefore it would be perfect.

Your body is perfect too. It allows you to disarm a room with your smile and infect everyone with your laugh. It gives you arms to wrap around Violet and squeeze her until she giggles. Every moment we spend worrying about our physical ”flaws” is a moment wasted, a precious slice of life that we will never get back.

Let us honour and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs. When I looked at that photo of you in the white bathing suit all those years ago, my innocent young eyes saw the truth. I saw unconditional love, beauty and wisdom. I saw my Mum.

Love, Kasey xx ”

All royalties go to the Australian National Breast Cancer Foundation. Published by Random House 2001 but I can’t find anywhere to buy it in the UK.

Good Move, Debenhams!

Just over a month ago, I was musing/complaining about the lack of real-size mannequins in our stores, and showing the example of a Swedish store who have been successfully using normal sized models for years.

Well, to my extreme surprise and delight, Debenhams have announced that they have an army of size 16 mannequins which they will be using in all 170 stores across the UK. http://www.theguardian.com/business/2013/nov/06/debenhams-first-department-store-size-16-models

Hurrah!
Debenhams Size 16 Mannequins

 

 

 

 

Hopefully this will be an emerging trend. A recent study involving nearly three thousand women in North America, Canada and China undertaken by researchers from the University of Cambridge found that women in Canada were three times more likely to buy clothes when the models in advertisements were their size.

So we don’t necessarily respond favourably to the stick thin coathangers on legs we’re always told ‘sell clothes’ after all!

So come on, UK retailers – let your profits expand with the waistlines of your mannequins and give us something we can relate to!

Mermaid or Whale?

Rather liked this so I thought I’d share. (don’t know how true it is, but ho hum!)

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150993328315817&set=a.394072360816.168012.300478260816&type=1

“A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and beautiful woman. The caption was “This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?”

The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way:

“Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals, curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with great tenderness.
They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia.
They sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.

Mermaids do not exist.

But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish?
They would have no sex life and could not bear children.
Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad.
And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?

Without a doubt, I’d rather be a whale.

At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat and drink and have fun with my friends.

We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn’t enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies.
We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated.
Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: “How amazing am I ?!”

A Happy, Bouncy Whale here!

 

Shop Mannequins – Why Can’t They Be Life-Size?

Anything about this picture look unusual to you?

Swedish Mannequins at Åhléns

Åhléns Department Store, Sweden

Yup, the Mannequins in Swedish department store Åhléns don’t look like your normal shop mannequin. They look like REAL WOMEN!!! (well ones with dodgy wigs, but we’ll forgive them that).

Even better, this photo dates back from 2010, and they’ve been using models in a range of sizes for 10 years according to this Guardian article! Hurrah for the Swedes and common sense!

Why is that so rare? Why are our clothes displayed on models and mannequins that have little more flesh than a coat hanger?

Evans uses larger sized models, it’s true, but then their clothes start at a size 14. What about large retailers who cover a range of clothing sizes? I’m thinking of you, Marks & Spencer, with your massive billboard ads showing ‘Britain’s Leading Ladies’ (not one of whom is above a size 10, I’ll bet, despite the fact that the average size of a UK woman is a 16).

The usual excuse given is that clothes look better on a thinner model.

Look at the two pictures below. Can any fashionista look me in the eye and tell me that’s really true?

Sensible Sized Catwalk Model

Can we have more of this ^

Skinny Catwalk Model

and less of this ^ please?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The photo of the Swedish Mannequins has become a bit of an internet sensation this year.

Here’s hoping some of our high street stores take Åhléns lead and find some mannequins which represent their true customer base. I’d rather my daughter grows up with a positive body image, thanks.