Can we please stop applauding men who ‘stay’ with wives who have gained a few kilos? It’s as bad as praising men for looking after their own kids. It’s not babysitting if you made them, it’s just parenting.
During one of my lovely visits from our old mate COVID last year, I was on the couch doing a little scrolling and came across two articles that were, how shall I put this? Outrageously tone deaf.
The first, and I cannot believe I’m still hearing this same story, is that God Damn tale of Pierce Brosnan being a wonderful husband for sticking by his wife, even though she’s gained weight. Yes, you’re actually reading these words. This story was inappropriate five years ago when it first started circulating. I had to check it wasn’t an old article but nope. Shame on anyone for publishing such drivel. To clarify, Pierce Brosnan seems like an awesome guy (although I was always team Doubtfire and his drive-by fruiting) but how on God’s Green Earth are we still acting like a man deserves a medal for staying with a wife who gains weight in 2023?!!! Do we EVER say that when a woman stays with a man whose appearance changes over time? No, we don’t. Magazines just have a cute little jab at celebrities rocking a dad-bod (to clarify, I don’t think we should comment on ANYONE’S body).
Bodies change as you get older. Bodies change after you give birth. It’s not a bad thing, it’s not a good thing. It just is. Up to two years ago I used to walk around with backless maxi dresses and no bra and God Bless my wonderful C-cup boobs that used to sit up on their own. Out and proud. Now, they slightly resemble deflated frowny faces. But you know what, my body recently fought off a major virus without breaking much of a sweat…twice. What a fucking machine!
The question is not just, why are we judging anyone on their appearance, especially when it’s COMPLETELY normal to change shape, but why are we still doing it more to women? I’m sure Pierce had much more attractive testicles when they met. I’m sure they swung about 3 inches higher than they do now. Where’s her medal for putting up with that?
The second article my fingers scrolled upon was about female celebrities finding love after 40. Which apparently is a miracle! Lucky I got married recently, just before turning 38, because apparently this year my body’s gonna shrivel up and die. Such a shame I was locked inside for two years of my life as a relevant, youthful person.
The picture above the headline showed the very sexy Sofia Vergara standing next to her equally sexy, Magic Mike stripping, True Blood werewolf husband Joe Manganiello. Next to them was a picture of Calista Flockhart, our trailblazer for weird girls in the 90’s, long before Gaga donned a meat dress, linking arms with her very high profile hubby, Harrison Ford. There was a speech bubble over Calista pointing out that she didn’t marry the love of her life until she was a massive 45!!!! And yet, nothing over her hubby’s pic to point out that he was a ripe old 67 when they tied the knot. I did the very unhealthy thing of jumping straight into comments to see if everyone was as outraged as I was. There was less outrage for the weight article, more for the age article.
One charming, fuckwit, expert on everything commented on the latter article:
“That’s great for them, you can find love at any (legal) age. However, the difference is that women’s geriatric pregnancy starts at about 30. So if you want kids it’s probably not ideal…but still possible”. Actually dickhead; it’s 35, but thanks for pointing out that my ovaries should be in a nursing home. I really can’t hear that enough.
He went on to bless us with more of his wisdom by pointing out that “men don’t hit their prime until their 40’s”. I’m sorry, where is that Scientific evidence? Prime of what? According to Looking for Alibrandi, a man’s sexual peak is at 17 and the woman’s at 34. He also believed that women look for someone who can ‘build’ and ‘protect’ and a man looks for someone to give them ‘children’ and ‘peace’. I really wanna know where he got that market research from because my husband can’t build much more than a sandwich, I’m yet to give him kids and I rarely offer him much peace. I guess we’re fucked then.
But never fear, Chris, the Facebook expert on everything closes his argument by assuring us that he happens to prefer an older woman for maturity. Oh bless. Sounds like his home could do with a little emotional maturity.
Here I was thinking that my biggest problem of the week would be returning The Iconic parcel sitting at my front door. Linen pants, what was I thinking, they’re so Goddamn itchy!
You do of course realise why these archaic beliefs are still circulating don’t you? It’s not just what these idiots are taught from their parents or peers. It all comes down to representation. Who and what is being represented in media and entertainment has been subconsciously programming our brains from the second we sat in the little basket of our parents’ shopping trolleys, looking at magazine covers while we waited in line, reaching for the Caramello Koala and Grape Hubba Bubba at the checkout.
I went to High School in the golden era of the late 90’s. The era of the belly button ring, vanilla Impulse body spray, belly chains, hot pink Ericsson T10 flip phones, Nokia 3210’s where you could change the covers to match your nail polish, Crazy Frog ring tones, purple blow-up couches, futons that your 3 best friends spooned on each weekend, overly tweezed eyebrows that resembled the Nike tick, weird beads hanging from your bedroom doorway, TV Week posters, Dawson’s Creek, Mariah Carey….ahhh I could go on and on. And most importantly, no social media! It was a great time to be alive no doubt, but it wasn’t without its problems, it’s just that a lot of the problems were swept under the rug back then. Yeah we had The Spice Girls, The Charmed Ones and Buffy guiding us through the Girl Power era. But we were really only scratching the surface.
What many of us didn’t really realise at the time, was that representation of females in the public eye was very white, very young and very thin.
I was a dancer when I was younger. I went to Newtown High School of the Performing Arts and in year 7, you’re separated into classes based on how you got into the school. There were the Dancers (my class) the Drama class (usually well -spoken and from money) the Music students (they were down at the oval smoking bongs – my favourite peeps) and the Area class who were really the coolest of us all because they were true locals who showed us the best hangouts after last period.
Suffice it to say, being in the dancer class, where some were even rhythmic gymnasts, everyone was incredibly thin, even the few boys. I had the thickest thighs without a doubt. One day, our science teacher decided do some sort of experiment around ‘volume’ by making us all jump into a Sulo Bin filled with water, one by one to measure the remaining water. We had to change into our swimmers and stand in the middle of the school waiting to jump in. My palms are sweating as I type this, to say that this is quite triggering is an understatement. I was terrified for anyone to see my thighs (even though looking back, I was as fit as an athlete). I spent the whole time covering them with my hands and still to this day look at my thighs in the mirror before and after every shower. I don’t want to do it, but my eyes just go there. Perhaps it was the asshole ex-boyfriend who sent me a text saying “YOU HAVE FAT THIGHS” after I broke up with him (probably still cries every night because he misses those thighs tbh) or it could have been that I saw zero representation of my shape on TV or in magazines when I was growing up, thereby determining that different equals lesser than. I vividly remember when Alicia Keys first showed up on our radar. What a Queen. Yes I fell in love with her voice and her lyrics but more than that, I felt seen because here was a girl who had a body that looked just like mine! She’s stunning, she’s so talented and she’s unapologetically herself. The mid 90’s were all about the waif thin look; Gwyneth Paltrow, Debra Messing, Kate Moss, Kerri Russell, Claire Danes etc. No judgement for these beautiful women, they are equally gorgeous and talented but you have to admit, that ‘thin’ was extremely glorified back then. No one and I mean NO ONE talked about squats.
It wasn’t just over-representation of thin women that was the problem. Women of a certain age weren’t represented either. We grew up watching Brian Henderson read our news (bless his soul) but the oldest female anchor was Sandra Sully. Sure, there have been some improvements over time but we still don’t see a 65 year old, woman with grey hair and glasses reading our news do we? No, because people like to see a young, pretty face. But it doesn’t matter for the guy right? We all love Kochie but you gotta admit, his certain look is more acceptable because he doesn’t own a Vagina. And we still don’t have anyone of colour reading our news on any of the major channels during Prime Time. I guess their resumes are still only being read at SBS. I only have to catch one Cityrail train throughout Sydney to see people of all ages, shapes, sizes and backgrounds. Shouldn’t current TV represent current society?
And yet, some still resist change. The people who don’t want change are the people who are already represented.
I didn’t have influencers like Amy Sheppard showing off her beautiful healthy body with dimples when I was in High School. I didn’t have Barbie dolls with thick thighs and darker skin when I was in Primary School. Could you imagine how many of us would have improved self-esteem and self-image if we did?
I recently heard a podcast (Law of Attraction Changed My Life by Francesca Amber) where the host, a white Mum of 3 daughters of colour noticed that her eldest, only a mere 4 years old kept looking at herself in the mirror and told her Mum that she’s ugly. Listening to Amber try to tell this story truly broke me. She had to continuously stop the recording to have a cry and come back again. She believed her daughter felt this way because she didn’t see girls like her in picture books or on TV. She stares at her reflection in confusion, trying to understand why she looks so ‘different’.
In the movie adaptation of the highly acclaimed 2006 non-fiction book ‘The Secret’, Author and motivational speaker Lisa Nichols, explains that she struggled through unhealthy relationships earlier on, as she relied on another to show her, her beauty, because she didn’t see her own beauty. That when she was growing up, her heroes (or her Sheroes) were The Bionic Woman, Wonder Woman and Charlies Angels, and whilst they were wonderful, they didn’t look like her with her full lips, round hips, Mocha skin or tight curls.
Imagine how many healthy, functioning adults there would be in society today if we felt seen, heard and represented within the broader community during our formative years.
During this same podcast episode, host Amber went on to tell a story about her elderly grandmother not wanting to join her daughter and granddaughter for a dip in the ocean on a rare warm UK day because she believed no one wanted to see her in a swimming costume. Amber felt so saddened by this revelation, saying “imagine, not knowing how much time you have left on this earth and passing up on opportunity for a really enjoyable day because you’re afraid that someone might judge how you look”. It made me think how many times I’ve said no to a swim because my tummy was bloated, my thighs were retaining a bit of fluid, I hadn’t done my weekly tan or my Brazilian wax was overdue. I’ll tell you; a lot of times. I missed out on making a lot of happy memories because I didn’t feel I looked my best. That shit is just sad. I always imagine that once I’m of a certain age I won’t care anymore but maybe that’s not the case, going by this story. Maybe there’s no time like the present to abolish such detrimental thought patterns. Life’s just too short to not say YES to a day at the beach.
When did we get to this place of having to look picture perfect every day? Oh I know, when we started posting all those photos and checking to see who liked them. Dang.
When the day comes for me to birth new people into this world (Oh Christ that’s a nerve-wracking thought, I need more time!!!) I will do my very best to expose them to all different cultures and areas of life. I’ll do my best to compliment them for acts of kindness rather than pretty hair. But I’m human, I’ll occasionally falter. I just hope by then, we live in an even more evolved society that stops talking about our size and our age like it’s a measure of our validity. Yawn.
We must embrace and incite change wherever we find someone hurting. I mean, it’s the least we can do right?
PS, thanks for everything Lizzo. You’re a Goddess.
