PORTSMOUTH HERALD

Skinny, not anorexic: In defense of thin women

Backlash against 'model ideal' body shapes hurtful to naturally thin women

ABIGAIL CROCKER
Former features intern Abigail Crocker, 20, is 5 foot 9 inches and weighs about 123 pounds. She’s been tall and thin since beginning school and even though she eats ravenously, people still ask if she has an eating disorder.

I remember getting out of the town pool in seventh-grade and hearing the older girls call me "anorexic girl." I resembled a toothpick with a blonde head attached and my peers never let me forget it. As a high school freshman, I sat next to a boy who told me I should "eat more," even though I ate ravenously. I always felt different or weird shaped like most children do, but my insecurities began to lessen as I grew into my body. I love my slender stature now. But those critical years gave me an insight into how women are judged by media's standards. More importantly, it showed me women are using the wrong tactics to fight back against media steriotypes.

Even though shows like "Oprah" and ads like Dove's "Campaign for Real Beauty" strive to promote body shape acceptance in American culture, there is a type of body that is often neglected in this pro-acceptance circle — the naturally twiggy shape. Even though tall and thin bodies are often plastered along roadside billboards and on the pages of fashions magazine like Vogue, the real-life Twiggys are often degraded by their peers and elders; being mistaken for those with eating disorders — especially while growing up. Yes, grade school is a harsh world for everyone involved. But in general, people forget that comments that urge naturally thinner girls to "eat more" or state that they "look anorexic" can be just as damaging as telling someone who's a little overweight they're "unattractive."

Some women, like me, are naturally endowed with modest curves. To lend a visual image, I am currently almost 5 foot 9 inches. I weight about 123 pounds I wear a size two or four and have been a thin, tall female since I began school. Now comfortable in my skin while walking along the street with very long legs, I view my height and body as another part of what makes me an individual.

However, growing up was another story. Constantly noticed for my unusual frame, I have dealt with unflattering comments since beginning middle school. Those were the years I was extremely gangly, almost no curves and with appendages that seemed to shoot far from my torso. But the comments didn't end after I graduated high school. I remember being asked by a doctor this year if I had any eating disorders. After noticing that I was clearly perturbed, she mentioned that I looked "healthy" to help offset my disgruntled face.

Professor Linda Blum, assistant professor of sociology and women's studies at the University of New Hampshire, remembers when anorexia wasn't a pressing concern in society, but has noticed how the epidemic has grown in recent years.

"Maybe we've swung too far and it's too much of a concern. Growing up, we weren't concerned enough. The problem was no awareness, but maybe we've gone too far. Although doctors are probably cautious since it's resistant to (treatment)," said Blum.

It is not my intention to downplay the seriousness of the eating disorder epidemic. The cause for medical alarm is understandable since eating disorders are on the upswing. According to the Renfrew Center Foundation for Eating Disorders, 24 million Americans have an eating disorder involving anorexia, bulimia or binge eating. Seventy million worldwide struggle with the epidemic.

According to Suzanne Sonneborn, licensed nutritionist and nutrition educator for the University of New Hampshire, today, diet companies are part of a $70 billion industry, which exploded after the 1970s. She said that 90 percent of fourth-grade girls report trying a diet and that college students are becoming more sensitive to eating disorders. Sonneborn reports those with anorexia have sunken cheeks, hair that falls out and extra downy hair along the body to fight the cold. People with bulimia usually have acid-eroded teeth.

However, all the negative attention concerned with thinness has become a sort of witch hunt because of the prevalence of eating disorders. While flipping through pop culture television channels and waiting in the grocery check-out line, it's impossible not to be overwhelmingly bombarded with bold images of airbrushed magazine super models. Interestingly, usually next to the magazines are the tabloids — always speculating what star has fallen victim to the latest eating disorder. Both pieces of media are snapped up by consumers like Oreos — otherwise they wouldn't be placed on the shelf. However, there is a strong cultural paradox exemplified in this grocery store microcosm that is impossible to ignore.

In one regard, society embraces and financially supports the fashion world, which places super-thin models on its runways and in its clothes. However, society also castigates those who strive to lose weight in unhealthy ways. This leads to a paradoxical situation. Women who fall outside of the range of "the model ideal" are led by the media to feel unglamorous. However, those who are naturally thin and willowy without an eating disorder are treated as if they have one.

"It almost comes with the territory of being thin," said Carol Conaway, University of New Hampshire assistant professor of communication and women's studies.

Conaway claims that thin students in her classes have reported that they have been accused of not eating, which is not the case.

"They don't like being lumped in the model category, who look like heroin addicts and are dangerously thin," said Conaway. "Comments like that become insulting after a while."

She has noticed that students "fight back" after the comments become defeating, telling people that they're naturally thin and to leave them alone.

Katie Staruk of Holden, Mass., my high school confidant, a 21-year-old ballet dancer, grew up with the same comments in the same hallways I did. At about 5 foot 5 inches tall and a little more than 100 pounds, petite is the word to describe her.

Staruk, an ice cream enthusiast, remembers falling into the correct weight bracket twice in her life. According to the height statistics in the doctor's office, she was always underweight. However healthily she ate, in Grade 10, she remembers hearing girls whisper behind her, "Oh my god, she looks anorexic," on the way to class. Staruk became upset and cried behind the band room lockers, away from public view.

"It's disheartening to hear wrong accusations about someone and the way they look even if they're healthy. People assume the worst and go with it. This is how rumors start and for some girls creates trouble with self-esteem," said Staruk.

Staruk remained stable because of her strong network of friends and a mother with a similar shape. However, the fashion industry's newest development, requiring models to be a certain body mass index (BMI) in hopes of satisfying a public outcry, is insulting to Staruk who now falls below the new acceptable BMI range.

"Now I'm way too skinny to them. What can I do about it?" said Staruk.

Sonneborn said the BMI doesn't account for genetic discrepancies. For women to react to a binding stereotype propelled by the media by insinuating women should be another opposite stereotype is unfair — not to mention extremely damaging to women's psyches. Backlash against restraining ideals manifested onto fellow women is not the answer.

"Women should support other women in the issues. They shouldn't attack," said Sonneborn.

Conaway claims that the cause of female insecurity is the impossible ideal that women strive to become, which is propelled by men who run the fashion industry.

"Women are generally portrayed as sex objects. They're not at all esteemed and are degraded and viewed as subordinate," said Conaway. "Men operate the fashion world. They're going to define what's attractive as long as they're not educated. All body types should be acceptable."

Sonneborn agrees with Conaway's statements and claims the media's perception of an ideal is elusive since magazine covers are airbrushed. Therefore, no one, including model-thin women, can completely measure up.

"Less than 5 percent of women fall into the media's ideal," Sonneborn said. "But there is no ideal. How do you emulate someone that's not real?"

Abigail Crocker is a senior English/journalism major at the University of New Hampshire. She recently completed her internship in the features department of Seacoast Media Group. She can be reached via features@seacoastonline.com.