Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Media Influence
So, today I am wondering: how much influence should the media (that is to say, newspapers, television, movies, internet, etc.) have in our lives? Historically, how much influence has it had?
What comes to mind, at the moment, is my collection of vintage sewing magazines. On each cover, a woman or two from the 40s with wasp-like waists, meticulously-applied cosmetics and the aura of glamour.
In the 1930s, the words and images of families struggling to make ends meet held little glamour. There are accounts of women having to compromise their values for the sake of taking care of the family: doing whatever had to be done and making do with what means they had.
In the 1940s, with many objects rationed, women felt compelled to "draw" lines down the backs of their legs to create the impression of nylons/pantyhose due to either a sense of propriety or status, I don't yet know which. Women were out working due to the availability of positions normally held by men now at war. Somewhere around this time, with burgeoning independence, it seems as if women had to reaffirm their attractiveness to men.
Even the housewife of the 1950s is depicted with cleaning supplies and polished nails or shopping cart and high heels. At some point, we began to purchase lies and patted ourselves on the back for doing so! Media glamourized womanhood and station. She is capable of working, but she is best at housework and looking her best for her man!
In the 1960s, Good Housekeeping published a special interest magazine on "slimming" or dieting. With women back at home more, perhaps the pounds started to creep up? Did women become, nationally, larger than in the 30s and 40s?
What I want to know: from where did these ideas originate?
My own struggles with body image/self-esteem are so intimately connected with the necessity to break free of what I am told to believe about myself, about others and I have to wonder why.
So, today I am wondering: how much influence should the media (that is to say, newspapers, television, movies, internet, etc.) have in our lives? Historically, how much influence has it had?
What comes to mind, at the moment, is my collection of vintage sewing magazines. On each cover, a woman or two from the 40s with wasp-like waists, meticulously-applied cosmetics and the aura of glamour.
In the 1930s, the words and images of families struggling to make ends meet held little glamour. There are accounts of women having to compromise their values for the sake of taking care of the family: doing whatever had to be done and making do with what means they had.
In the 1940s, with many objects rationed, women felt compelled to "draw" lines down the backs of their legs to create the impression of nylons/pantyhose due to either a sense of propriety or status, I don't yet know which. Women were out working due to the availability of positions normally held by men now at war. Somewhere around this time, with burgeoning independence, it seems as if women had to reaffirm their attractiveness to men.
Even the housewife of the 1950s is depicted with cleaning supplies and polished nails or shopping cart and high heels. At some point, we began to purchase lies and patted ourselves on the back for doing so! Media glamourized womanhood and station. She is capable of working, but she is best at housework and looking her best for her man!
In the 1960s, Good Housekeeping published a special interest magazine on "slimming" or dieting. With women back at home more, perhaps the pounds started to creep up? Did women become, nationally, larger than in the 30s and 40s?
What I want to know: from where did these ideas originate?
My own struggles with body image/self-esteem are so intimately connected with the necessity to break free of what I am told to believe about myself, about others and I have to wonder why.
Saturday, October 04, 2003
So, That's Why I Can't Be Fat…
Recently, I was shaken from naivete. The safety blanket of ignorance was violently yanked away from me. Ok, I will dispense with the icky metaphor.
I have learned that my obesity affects other people. My obesity is, in fact, detrimental to some of those who know me. It confers an unwanted label of "I'm with fat person" on the other. Jeesh, I really should have considered others when I started packing on the pounds.
I will try not to use the excuse of medication (though that is, in fact, what jump-started my 60-pound climb to the top of Mount Blushmore. ) Ok, icky metaphor again. However it occurred, it has, in fact, become a reality.
Silly language aside, I know wherefrom my anger surges: the idea that my body could be anybody's business but my own. In fact, a former General Physician of mine once told me: "I wish people would just mind their own business." It was in this context that she spoke of such busy-bodiness. Though my respect for her had always existed, I beamed with delight when she said this as my admiration grew.
I have learned that, in addition to risky side effects, lack of energy and the impression that I am just lazy and unsuccessful, I should not be fat because it affects others. My husband has a fat wife. My in-laws have a fat daughter-in-law. My parents raised a fat daughter. My sister's sibling rivalry with me has ended: I am fat, too.
Nobody, I take it, wants to see my arms jiggling in a sleeveless top. Nobody wants a glimpse at my heavy calves or ample bosom. So, what of this?
Why don't we try the little rule of replacing one adjective for another: My husband has a Jewish wife. My in-laws have a black daughter-in-law. My parents raised a lesbian daughter. Are any of these announcements necessary? Do they strike the reader as unnecessarily focused upon something? Today, these words stand out as obviously as an emphasis on a wrong syllable.
Frankly, if you hold this attitude but possess the suave demeanor of a male supermodel or the sleek lines of a television actress; even if you assume the sophistication of an intellectual, you are still an Archie Bunker.
(The show "All in the Family" polarized two differing social attitudes about bigotry in the characters of Archie Bunker and Mike Stivic). Archie Bunker thinks that his beliefs and so-called "statements of fact" should not be offensive (and they, nevertheless, are) because they are just statements of "the way things are." He is immutable. Mike Stivic, on the other hand, believes that social justice is worth effort, even if it means examining one's own prejudices. His opinions can change if he has information to which he was previously ignorant.
As harsh as the foregoing seems, I realize that you are supported by diet-industry-motivated corporate media that justify the attitude with "statistics" and news coverage of health studies. Let us remember that television advertisement spaces provided to diet commercials yield large amounts of money to networks (and that the diet industry can afford to pay).
Of course, I realize that not everyone is a bigot. I understand that there are people out there who really care about the inside of a person. It is those who do in spite of my appearance that scare me.
Again, as harsh as the foregoing seems, I seek to educate not to alienate. I urge people to read about the differences between overweight and obese, to ascertain the various origins of obesity and look to the history of cultural attitudes about appearance. Most importantly, I urge the reader to examine whether or not there is someone in his or her life for whom affection thrives "despite" that person's appearance.
Fat, my friends, might be the final front in the war against bigotry. Are you an Archie Bunker or a Mike Stivic?
Recently, I was shaken from naivete. The safety blanket of ignorance was violently yanked away from me. Ok, I will dispense with the icky metaphor.
I have learned that my obesity affects other people. My obesity is, in fact, detrimental to some of those who know me. It confers an unwanted label of "I'm with fat person" on the other. Jeesh, I really should have considered others when I started packing on the pounds.
I will try not to use the excuse of medication (though that is, in fact, what jump-started my 60-pound climb to the top of Mount Blushmore. ) Ok, icky metaphor again. However it occurred, it has, in fact, become a reality.
Silly language aside, I know wherefrom my anger surges: the idea that my body could be anybody's business but my own. In fact, a former General Physician of mine once told me: "I wish people would just mind their own business." It was in this context that she spoke of such busy-bodiness. Though my respect for her had always existed, I beamed with delight when she said this as my admiration grew.
I have learned that, in addition to risky side effects, lack of energy and the impression that I am just lazy and unsuccessful, I should not be fat because it affects others. My husband has a fat wife. My in-laws have a fat daughter-in-law. My parents raised a fat daughter. My sister's sibling rivalry with me has ended: I am fat, too.
Nobody, I take it, wants to see my arms jiggling in a sleeveless top. Nobody wants a glimpse at my heavy calves or ample bosom. So, what of this?
Why don't we try the little rule of replacing one adjective for another: My husband has a Jewish wife. My in-laws have a black daughter-in-law. My parents raised a lesbian daughter. Are any of these announcements necessary? Do they strike the reader as unnecessarily focused upon something? Today, these words stand out as obviously as an emphasis on a wrong syllable.
Frankly, if you hold this attitude but possess the suave demeanor of a male supermodel or the sleek lines of a television actress; even if you assume the sophistication of an intellectual, you are still an Archie Bunker.
(The show "All in the Family" polarized two differing social attitudes about bigotry in the characters of Archie Bunker and Mike Stivic). Archie Bunker thinks that his beliefs and so-called "statements of fact" should not be offensive (and they, nevertheless, are) because they are just statements of "the way things are." He is immutable. Mike Stivic, on the other hand, believes that social justice is worth effort, even if it means examining one's own prejudices. His opinions can change if he has information to which he was previously ignorant.
As harsh as the foregoing seems, I realize that you are supported by diet-industry-motivated corporate media that justify the attitude with "statistics" and news coverage of health studies. Let us remember that television advertisement spaces provided to diet commercials yield large amounts of money to networks (and that the diet industry can afford to pay).
Of course, I realize that not everyone is a bigot. I understand that there are people out there who really care about the inside of a person. It is those who do in spite of my appearance that scare me.
Again, as harsh as the foregoing seems, I seek to educate not to alienate. I urge people to read about the differences between overweight and obese, to ascertain the various origins of obesity and look to the history of cultural attitudes about appearance. Most importantly, I urge the reader to examine whether or not there is someone in his or her life for whom affection thrives "despite" that person's appearance.
Fat, my friends, might be the final front in the war against bigotry. Are you an Archie Bunker or a Mike Stivic?
