Picking up a Vogue magazine in the stand recently, I was struck by several ads in a row that featured not only particularly anorexic-looking models, but ones that were unnaturally pale, with eyes seemingly enlarged by context in their bony faces, staring vacantly at the camera with limb arranged in provocative positions. If I had to describe these models in a word it would probably have to be “soulless.” These were living mannequins, having reduced themselves, at least for the eye of the camera, to shells, caricatures of what a woman is supposed to be. The vacant stares seemed to imply that filling out clothes was the only job they had, and yet their bodies were so deprived that they scarcely filled the clothes out at all.
Further ads seemed to emphasize the fact that women are decorative accessories, supposed to fade into the background so as not to outshine men in achievements, but ready to stand out and be the sexy escort in the next moment. One popular clothing store has repeatedly posted larger-larger-than-life photo displays of a well-muscled male with two women either seductively draped around him, or in bed with him. No romantic relationship encouraged here. Apparently the message is that if you buy their clothes and you’re a guy, you’ll attract multiple “babes” to hang on your every whim. And girls, these clothes will let you be one of several well-dressed (or undressed) accessories to this “stud” (who, by definition must serve multiple women, right?).
Clothing lines, while marketing more and more grown-up clothes younger and younger girls, still as a whole have shifted when it comes to the clothes marketed to pre-teens and early adolescent girls. Short skirts, platform shoes, stilettos, low cut tops all emphasize that the only point of girls’ clothing is to show off what they’ve got. And our movie stars and music icons underscore this point by appearing to gala events in increasingly daring and skimpy pieces of clothing, clothing that draws my eye in horror wondering how they even keep it on at times! I saw one actress who was wearing a dress that was so completely backless as to fall in a small drape that revealed the top of her behind, and a skirt so high that it barely covered the lower end of that same part of her anatomy. There was no way she could have sat down, which means she either exposed herself before the night was over, or crippled herself standing all night on those four-inch-plus spikes she’d paired the outfit with.
And while an example like this is more extreme, the message is plastered everywhere a girl looks: sexy sells, and if you don’t look sexy, you’re not worth anything.
I remember the awkwardness of 12 and 13. I had my share of the post puberty baby fat look, and obsessed about the size of my thighs, especially when compared to other girls with smaller connections between their hips and their knees. I used to sit with my legs either tightly squeezed together or with my heels propped up on the legs of the chair to reduce the thigh spread. I just so badly wanted to fit in, but I could only feel good about myself if I was near someone bigger than I was, but I certainly didn’t want to be classified with them either. Feeling socially awkward and overweight (I wasn’t overweight if you look back at the pictures, though I don’t really have good explanation for my hair [sic]), I wrestled within with wanting to shun another girl who I was sure was socially awkward and had bad hair to boot, and the concept that I was supposed to be nice to people. Only I just wanted to be nice to people who didn’t make me look bad. And ultimately, the latter won out.
