Why it’s time to move beyond ‘Fat vs. Thin’

Last night Channel 4 aired Plus Sized Wars, a seemingly predictable take on the ‘Fat vs. Thin’ debate, in which attention turned to the wave of plus size Instagram models taking the British high street by storm (several years behind the times, if you ask me). The usual Twitter wars were sparked as thousands voiced their opinion on the matter, while the controversy continued well into the morning as today’s Metro flaunted a mildly infuriating quote from Loose Woman and one-time 00s pop sensation, Jamelia (yes, who?) about pandering to the nation’s obesity crisis. Yet by lunch time the question of waist size had put firmly back on the shelf again, no doubt ready to be unearthed by an uninspired C4 producer in due course.

It’s not that the debate itself is tired- far from it, if statistics on both female and male eating disorders are anything to go by- but the fact that it’s presented in the same tired format over and over again prevents these kinds of shows from having any lasting impact. We take what is a very poignant issue and dilute it for our entertainment, to the point where most viewers don’t know what to think anymore. One minute we’re poking fun at overweight couples who are so unrestrained that they’re oblivious to their own gluttony on Secret Eaters, the next it’s a big fat thumbs down to the fashion industry for failing to accommodate the fabulous curves of the so-called ‘average woman’. Obesity and society’s prejudice against it are both valid points, yet we never engage with the issue beyond these superficial, and transparently voyeuristic, programs. There’s no real debate other than the need to debate; it’s passive media consumption at its finest.

Political initiatives always assert that female body image needs to be addressed. In schools, in the workplace and, most consistently, in the media. Yet in reality we’re offered very limited resources to thoroughly engage with the complex relationship most women have with their bodies. It’s all very well telling us that, on the one hand, sugar makes you fat, while, at the same time, too skinny= wrong, but where do we go from here? What about the millions of girls who are neither overweight nor disconcertingly thin, who all still struggle with their insecurities on a daily basis? Who are they supposed to relate to? In a move not so far removed from the media fat cats who saturate our ad breaks with junk food commercials in the hope we’ll subconsciously take note, those in power continue to underestimate our capacity to think freely for ourselves.

Clearly it’s our fascination with food that drives the creation of programs like Plus Size Wars and encourages us to pick up this morning’s Metro en masse. We consume them with vigour because, along with 140 characters on Twitter, it’s the only way to get involved. You can lay the blame on Western pop culture, the food industry or the individual all you want, but the real failure is society’s expectation of us. For as long as these platforms remain limited, so does the scope for discussion, and worse than allowing women like Jamelia to come out with such idiotic comments, it enables these oversimplified views to have clout.

Don’t despair if you’re not ‘bikini ready’ just yet…

They say summer bodies are made in the winter, but then those same people also tell you that burpees are fun and kale chips taste better than the real deal. Before fitspo really took off my ‘bikini body’ angst was limited to a last minute panic in early June as the weather grew warmer and the impending requirement to be half naked for the next three months loomed. As far as I was concerned, getting in shape for summer meant saying no to dessert for a few weeks to lose any pre-holiday bloat and avoid total humiliation on the beach. When I first got into fitness I started to take a greater sense of pride in my body in general and upped my game a little around April/May time with some longer runs, but only ever with the vague intention of making some aesthetic gains for the summer months.

Flash forward a few years and any credible #fitspo post on Tumblr will tell you that we need to be on our best behaviour all year round because winter is the perfect time, the only time, to be getting summer ready. Shame on those novices who leave it till the last of the snow has melted to start their mission- the true fitness devotees were out there in the blizzard jogging their belly fat away. After all, with only 6 months till summer, it makes sense to start your bikini mission in the freezing depths of mid December, right?

Except the problem with this mentality is that it doesn’t allow for any kind of break. Ever. We’re essentially running on treadmill with no stop button and the risk of incurring serious self-loathing should we take our aching feet off for one second. I’d love to know who coined these indiscriminate words of wisdom because most fitness experts will agree that a healthy regime should have periods of intensity and periods of rest for recovery. If you never have time to stop, it’s only a matter of time before all the hard work catches up with you, whether physically or mentally.

Once again it seems we’re piling yet more pressure on ourselves to be unrelentingly exemplary human beings. Having the fear of being ‘bikini ready’ is stressful in itself, so what’s the sense in prolonging it to haunt your conscience all year round? Winter is hard enough without the voice of a sadist drill sergeant screaming from behind a fitspo image on your PC screen, and comfy oversized jumpers were designed for a reason. If we don’t cut ourselves some slack it’s only a matter of time before we come crashing down off that treadmill with more than just debilitating guilt to contend with.

Life in calorific glory

Something strange has happened to me in the past month- for someone who always likes to be in control, I’ve found myself eating more, exercising less and (this is the strangest part) not really giving a shit about the aforementioned behaviour. Gone are the days when I would tirelessly beat myself up over a skipped gym session or double helping of dessert. Because you’re not going to miraculously gain 5lbs overnight from a night in front of the TV, and no one is going to die if you eat that extra slice of cake. In the same way that I never really lost any weight from previous anti-carb crusades and mammoth stints at the gym, my new relaxed regime hasn’t had any noticeable effect on my body. I still fit into the same size jeans and most days I like what I see in the mirror. The only thing I have gained is a new appreciation for what really makes a person attractive.

Letting go of a regimented relationship with health and fitness allows you to enjoy life in all of its calorific glory. It also makes you a lot more fun to be around. No one wants to hang out with the girl who says no to more wine while sipping sanctimoniously on her zero-calorie tap water, after all. It’s intimidating and makes your company feel guilty, as if they too should exercise greater restraint. It’s a crying shame that so many young women (and men) feel under so much pressure to look a certain way that they prioritise it over having a half decent personality. Not to mention the irony in the fact that we usually diet in a bid to entice love interests while failing to account for the down right unattractive behaviour it provokes.

I’m not saying I have all the answers- in no way do I think that complexities of body image can be resolved just like that, and I know all too well that it will only take another ‘health kick’ to render me back into submission. But, unlike past attempts to rectify my attitude that were half-hearted and lasted for a week at most, something feels different this time. I hope that, even if this state of newfound contentment doesn’t last forever, I can hang onto some of these feelings.

The dreaded ‘ugly’ day

Do you ever have those days where you look in the mirror and think to yourself, who the hell is this monster staring back at me? It doesn’t make sense, for once you’re not hungover, you slept well and, by all accounts, you should be looking totally ravishing today. You try to fight it by trowelling on a full face of make up and curling your hair but still self-loathing comes seeping through.

I know this all sounds a bit overdramatic, but it really does describe how I felt yesterday. The majority of the time I’m pretty content with the way I look; some days (when my hair is cooperating and my eyebrow game is on point) I even spend a little longer than necessary ogling my reflection I like it so much. Then a day like yesterday hits where all you can see are your flaws and it bloody kills you to spend any longer than necessary thinking about it. Of course, adding insult to injury, this inevitably makes me like a totally shallow cow because there’s more to a person than their looks and in reality I’m young, I have my health and I’m in my 20-something prime.

But that’s ok. The truth is that even the most gorgeous among us suffer from their own ugly days. The girls we envy for their perfect features and long, glossy hair don’t always feel so goddess-like. The gym bunnies with their hardened abs still have fat days where they can’t beat the bloat and nothing but trackies and an oversized jumper will do. It’s a wretched feeling, yet it’s one that will pass almost as quickly as it arrived. And in the mean time, why not embrace the ugliness- put the make up brushes to one side, shove your hair up in a top knot and try not to give too much of a shit about our society that values looks so disproportionately over everything else.

Stay beautiful, whether you feel it today or not.