by Tsen Ee Lin
“I feel so fat, I need to lose weight, I’m on a diet, I’m skipping breakfast, I’m counting my calories, my macros, my steps—”. We’ve all heard these statements at least once in our lives, and some reading may even be guilty of saying them.
While gaining wealth or knowledge is applauded, weight tends to get the side-eye as diet culture screams at us to shrink ourselves down, fear every kilogram, and weigh every single lettuce leaf. Ironically, we’re surrounded by a society that keeps wanting more, but when our bodies cry for more food, we silence and deprive them when all they want is to survive.
The truth is, we’ve been indoctrinated to fear weight gain and bigger bodies, being told that they’re ‘unattractive’ or something that needs to be fixed, but it’s about time we slam these thoughts. Weight gain isn’t the demon; instead, it’s society’s warped point of view.
Thin physiques and protruding collar bones have become all the rage as Instagram floods our feeds with hourglass figures and models with five-centimeter waistlines, but the topic of beauty remains a subjective one as everyone has different preferences, evident in the odd uprising of mustache necklaces in 2010. While trends and standards change with time, some beauties remain timeless centuries later.
Venus, the Goddess of Love, campaigns this as her soft rolls and voluminous curves continue to grace the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, and at 500 million dollars, Botticelli’s work is one of the most revered and valuable paintings to date.
Both Sandro Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus” and Peter Paul Rubens’ “Venus in Front of the Mirror” capture Venus in her prime as her honey-toned body fills their canvases. In no way, shape or form does her voluptuous body reflect today’s standards, but the goddess is still revered as a beauty and, quite literally, a piece of art.
Although women like Venus were the golden apples during the Renaissance, it’s important to note that as scarcity ran rampant and the world laid bare without Tescos and Grabfoods, being well nourished and large instantly became the ideal. Without needing to break a sweat or lift a finger, the wealthy were instantly gratified with bottomless pits of food as servants brought in banquets to their dining halls, and just like Marie Antoinette said, “Let them eat cake!”
Being able to consume such large quantities of food not only meant that one was at the top of the hierarchy, but women, in particular, were instantly more attractive to men as their primitive instincts perceived curvy hips as signs of fertility and saw a higher success rate of birthing a healthy child. However, the narrative of eating to one’s heart’s content quickly changed, as slave ships docked the harbors and shackled a new race into town. In Sabrina Springs’ award-winning book Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia, the sociologist dives back into the past and reveals the sinister roots of our thin-chasing, fat-shaming society, coming hand in hand with anti-blackness and racism.
During the 17th century, European men formed the first-ever origins of fatphobia as they used it to create disparities between slaves and their owners. Just like how skin tone was used, the physical appearance of one’s body became the next target. In the writings of early race scientist George Cuvier, he associated the African body with gluttony and described them as being “barbaric savages who ate everything that was in their sight”.
Instantly, having self-control became the new trend amongst the white community; being in control and having the power to suppress one’s cravings gave a sense of superiority over the ‘savage’ Africans who supposedly lacked control.
Quickly, larger bodies and the word ‘fat’ were twisted into feared monsters, and even today, fatphobia plagues our screens with stick-thin models, juice cleanses and one-size-fits-all brands as diet culture sinks its teeth into us and poisons our minds with irrational fears.
For women, it’s the hip dips, tummy rolls, and cellulite, while men have to adhere to expectations of ‘being a manly man’ as toxic masculinity shoves washboard abs and mountainous biceps down everyone’s throats.
Research from Allied Market Research in 2019 shows that the global weight loss and weight management diet market size was valued at $192.2 billion, and by 2027, is projected to cash in at an ungodly amount of $295.3 billion. With its tremendous growth, it looks like a successful industry on the surface, but underneath it all simmers a pathetic success rate of less than 10% as studies show that diets fail 95% of the time.
It’s time to realize that the goal of diet culture has never been to help us; rather, their eyes are set on cold, hard profit as they strike us at our most vulnerable, lure us in with the perfect before and after photos, emptily promising that we too can achieve that lusted-after look by cashing in on their magical products.
Honestly, if we can get mad at Jeff Besos’ blue p*nis and 10-minute flight of fame, we should also be outraged at these shocking statistics as they shackle us to unattainable and deadly beauty standards. You’re told you have to be stick thin in some places and plump and “thicc” in others, but the truth is, you’re never gonna be able to please everyone, so why bother? Society will tell you to eat more, eat less, not too much, go keto, avoid carbs and fruits, stop eating after 8 PM… the list goes on.
While you may come to me and shove the health factor of body mass index (BMI) in my face, it should be noted that the system is flawed, and doesn’t account for one’s unique bone density and muscle mass. Furthermore, the BMI was never meant for the whole population and was designed by a white European man during the 19th century for white men of that period.
So, are you really going to let a white man from the 19th-century teach you about your body?
Society has profited off us for far too long and has taught us to hate every cell of our bodies, but I say embrace your curves, cherish what your body does for you, and swim against the tide as you hold them near and revolt against these impossible standards.
Stop judging books by their covers and appreciate someone for what they bring to the world and how much love they hold in their hearts instead of emptily applauding them on their appearances. Surface-level beauty standards will morph and change with time, but how we treat others and the memories we make will last forever.
At the end of the day, your body is not the problem—and it never will be.