I have wanted to talk about the notion of the flattering outfit for a while now, because my Skinny Jeans post seemed to bring up a lot of discussion on the topic. For a lot of people, rejecting the haters and wearing what you want is a great message up to a point, but wearing anything that draws attention to perceived flaws goes a bit too far for comfort. I’d like to elaborate on my reasons for not being very invested in wearing flattering outfits, and how I’m pretty sure rejecting that practice benefits self esteem and body positivity.

When we talk about wearing clothes that flatter our personal body shapes, it’s a conversation that’s usually had between women. Most of the time it takes the guise of kindly advice, whether it be the advice of a person close to you or from some nameless fashion writer working for any glossy magazine. The message is usually the same: maximise things that are too small (usually just boobs), minimise bits that are too large, choose fabrics that drape well over lumpy sections and don’t make too much of a spectacle of yourself, girl. I’ve read well-meaning guidance that instructs tall women not to wear heels; encourages all women to be mindful of not aging themselves; decrees those with big bums to avoid skinny jeans (yeah right!); and helpfully suggests that women with all over chunk should avoid large accessories. I really enjoy having parts of my body reduced to “chunk”. No really. The sick thing is most of us talk to each other and ourselves like this; if your enemy called you chunky, shit would be on, but when your best friend does it you know she’s just concerned about how you look.

Restricting and policing women (and men, but women are certainly the overwhelming focus of body and fashion criticism in the western world) and their fashion choices under the guise of helping them look more palatable to other people is harmful and hurtful. That we are indoctrinated into feeling indebted to people for pointing out our “flaws” feeds into the cycle of shame, and the endless pursuit of some kind of really boring and generic idea of beauty. If you’re flat chested, you’re encouraged to dress to give the illusion of curves, and if you’re short you ought to employ vertical stripes to trick people into thinking you’re taller. Just two examples of ways to flatter your body into some kind of societal acceptance. It’s patently ridiculous to me, because even if I practice flattering dressing techniques – I AM STILL FAT. Other people know I’m fat too, but it’s almost like any steps I make towards apologising for my unacceptable body are deemed as suitable penance.

The other key issue I have with the notion of flattering is that it erases human beings and our natural diversity. Women are told to hide shameful lumps, bumps, wrinkles, disabilities and even skin tone. We’re being herded towards an ideal of average height, dress and shoe size (which suits the fashion manufacturing process perfectly), where each woman blends in perfectly. When every day I feel like I’m under attack for not fitting in, I have to be realistic about my odds of ever obtaining this manufactured mystical beauty. And I’m ok with that, you know, because beauty is pain (how often did I tell myself that as a teenager?) and beauty must be applied several hours before leaving the house, in lotions and creams and razors and aerosol cans and odd looking eyelash curler implements that never seem to work for me. We apply all this stuff to our person in the hopes of getting closer to the median beauty but in the process remove a lot of our natural attributes, replacing them with lofty aspirations and huge wads of shame.

This erasure on a personal scale is even more so evident in the way we dress ourselves. If I dress to trick people into thinking I don’t have a large tummy, and that I’m not indeed 175cm tall, I am nullifying parts of my body. My self. These parts belong to me and even if I flatter them away as much as possible, they still exist and I still see them when I stand naked in front of a mirror. Deluding others into thinking I have an acceptable body is one thing, but deluding myself is a terrible fraud with an immediate penalty. If I ignore it, it doesn’t go away and thus becomes a source of unhappiness. I don’t want to participate in this cycle of body negativity and I don’t want to propagate messages that hurt my own sense of esteem. If I engage in flattering dressing, I’m not just accepting that my own body is bad and terrible – I’m passing on the message to others. It disturbs me that dissatisfaction and unhappiness within our bodies isn’t just accepted, it’s encouraged.

Breaking the cycle of body negativity is hard work but being aware of your participation within it is crucial. I’m not just saying you should be conscious for other people’s sake – foremost in your mind should be your concern about yourself! If you’ve ever wanted to wear a garment but thought against it because of fears of how people will perceive you, I heartily encourage you to go forth and just wear it. If an outfit makes you feel comfortable and fantastic, but it doesn’t hide your knees or your height or your big boobs, sod it. Just wear it.

This war is personal and this war is being waged on you, from within your consciousness, and it seeks to inhibit your self expression and nullify your body. This war also works to nullify whole groups of apparently odd-looking people too: fat, old, tall, short, brown, and disabled (and more!) If you’re not white, able bodied and young, the overriding message being spruiked by the beauty, health and fashion industries is that you’re not good enough and that in order to be as beautiful as you can be you have to buy clothes and make up and diet pills and encourage all your friends to consume what you’re consuming. It’s a nasty yet profitable business. I think such frightening homogenisation of human beings is unjust, and if by wearing skinny jeans and showing off my fat arse I can undermine such policing with my visibility, I will do it. I’ve got no delusions of my fat bum saving the world but it makes me feel better not to comply with such a hurtful system, and I feel pretty damn good about myself while doing it.

It’s highly unrealistic to have a picture of someone in your mind that never changes, yet it’s the simplest thing to do. I’m not a psychologist or nothing but I bet it’s because there’s so much information in the world. It’s easier to take a mental snapshot of a person, a friend, a family member, even an adversary and file it away, referring to it only when that person pops up. You might only need to pull up a snapshot when that person’s name is mentioned, if you run into them on the street, or come across them on the internet. That snapshot doesn’t really need to change, because for the most part, we cling to the things we know and the things that define us. Change is hard work! So when someone you know tweaks something small, and you come across them again, most people don’t stop and take another mental picture. You keep trying to compare them to the mental picture you have in your mind, and it can get confusing!

You might know me through my words and pictures, or you might know me as someone you hang out with in real life. You might even be my Mum. Hi Mum! You may have known me for a little while, or you may have known me for a few years. There are things about me that you know, that are part of your mental picture of Natalie Perkins. I like drawing and making stuff, I’m pretty opinionated, and I like to wear clothes. If you’ve known me for a while you might know more stuff, stuff that doesn’t really mesh with the things I love to talk about now. Like how I think criticising other people’s fashion choices is a hurtful thing, but… wasn’t I the girl who set up a community on the internet where people could say mean things about what other people are wearing? I was. If you remember it, you’re not remembering incorrectly!

A few people are asking me, now that my words are being read by a larger audience, how I can be the same person. It’s a fair question and it’s why I’m writing this post. I’m Natalie Perkins, ex-fashion snarker, current feminist and size acceptance activist and I went through a process of questioning the ways in which I took part in putting other women down, being called on my crappy behaviour, and making a resolution to change my mind. Lots of people think that changing your mind is a power struggle, that “giving in” and admitting that you’re wrong is a Bad Thing. I’ve got to tell you that is A Grade Crapola. That’s the power systems that favour you and afford you privilege trying to get you to resist change and that is one of the reasons why things are so crappy in this world. Another reason is because Arrested Development is not being made anymore, but it’s just a small sliver in the pie chart of Reasons Why The World Is Crappy.

I did not change my mind overnight. No, I am pretty stubborn. I take after my Dad. The fight I put up was drawn out and dirty and took place over months. I denied that my snarky behaviour was anti-feminist, I denied my racism, and I denied my privilege. Smart people, who really did not owe me anything and were not obligated to educate me, offered me links and discussed things with me but I stood my ground. No sir, I was not going to back down. But after a while, months even, things started ringing true. Making fun of people, who were mostly female identified, began to feel like I was part of the system of oppression that keeps women down. That didn’t feel good at all, but I COULD NOT GIVE IN!

Despite my stubbornness, I found myself snarking less. I could abide that, so long as I didn’t have to lose face by giving in! So I was coasting along, not having to admit my follies and engaging more and more in feminist discourse, when people started asking me questions. “Why aren’t you commenting in the snark community anymore?” Oh, I’m busy. Um… yeah. And then, “How can you justify being so loudmouthed and opinionated on women’s issues when you’re still a mod?” The penny dropped. It was time to own my behaviour. The question wasn’t offensive anymore, and I didn’t feel so weird about answering. I understood that I wasn’t losing anything by owning it and admitting I was wrong – I was gaining some excellent life experience and more to the point, I understood what it meant to be an actual feminist. Someone who isn’t afraid of admitting when she is wrong.

At the end of the day? A backflip isn’t a bad thing when you’re backflipping on hurtful behaviour. Protecting my ego was a selfish thing, and all the fat activism I engaged in was for naught if I couldn’t understand and front up to the realisation that I was a tool for putting people down. I’m still a mod of that community and if I’m honest, I’m at a place of confusion. Do I remain a member and a moderator, and call people on their hurtful words? Or do I leave, and never think about it again except to denounce it?

I don’t need a pat on the back. If you go through a similar process and expect a cookie, you’re not quite there yet. Change is a tool for growth and it helps you to be a more awesome human being, part of a more awesome human community. I think it’s our job to be re-evaluating, questioning, being questioned… all the time.

She is continuing to advocate for body image in the most ass-backwards way by posting photos of celebrities and inviting comment on what these women look like. Kathleen rightly said earlier on twitter:

.@miafreedman still doesn’t get that women criticising other women on her Frock Watch feature is not body image positive, it’s hateful.

This is one of the things I find so offensive about her position in Australia as a body image expert. Having kept relatively quiet throughout the last incident (I chose not to engage much because I don’t have to fight every battle, it’d be bloody tiring if I was obligated to do that!) I decided to comment this time, because I am particularly sensitive about fashion and body snark. I used to participate in it myself. I’m not perfect. When I read chapter ten in Kate Harding and Marianne Kirby‘s book, Screw Inner Beauty called “Stop Judging Other Women” I resolved to cut that shit out. Because, (and I’m quoting from the book here):

Do you want to know something? My life has changed. Cutting out most of the snark on other women has been revolutionary for my self esteem and my body image. I feel mentally healthier, something that is really NOT talked about by these national figureheads for body image. Tell me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the point? Paying lip-service via stunts like not retouching Sarah Murdoch makes me upset and it completely misses the point.

Ms. Freedman, I implore you to pick up this book. Body image isn’t just about not retouching photographs of models who already enjoy the beauty privilege that most of us beat ourselves up about. It’s a lot of hard work, it involves unlearning most of the things society has taught us about femininity. You can’t sit on a panel like this then post things like Frock Watch and expect to be taken seriously about body positivity. It makes women feel bad. It’s not just about taking celebrities down a few pegs, because they’ve somehow got an extra few pegs and can afford it. That is messed up. Frock Watch, and indeed any snarky activity like it, negatively impacts on every person who views and participates in it.

When someone is not angry or asking questions, it makes them a lot easier to control but by the same token, I can appreciate being lost in an angry response. A lot of the time I can flip situations around, and sometimes come out of it with that golden Teaching Moment. I did it once and blogged my success, but tonight I have come to blog my failure. And I’m ok with it. One of the things I have learned from my mate Tiara is that it’s unfair to expect a victimised and demonised group of people to educate their oppressors. One of the most common things I hear in my interactions as a fat activist is

“But you just want to glorify fat people/ make everyone fat.”

If I was a thin woman, I doubt I’d hear that. If I was a thin male, I’d barely even know that kind of response existed. Hell, if I was a thin male I’d probably be doling out that kind of response without a second thought.

I get really tired of hearing it… and then some days I get really angry and upset about it. It wears me down and I suffer the old activist fatigue, and find I have to withdraw from talking about this stuff for a while. That’s why I am grateful for fat allies and activists who aren’t female or fat like Paul Campos. He can use his male privilege to be heard and not dismissed by other men! This transcript from his lecture at UCLA says a lot about who our society takes seriously on the topic of fatness:

I hope that quote can open your eyes to what an activist deals with when she is fighting the oppression she is subject to, and why it’s so awesome and appreciated when allies step in. Sometimes it’s just shit that when I call someone out on being a bigot, they turn around and call me a bitch or, one of my favourites, too sensitive. That person, especially if they are a privileged white male (but yo, women do this too!) will receive the full force of my anger. I’m allowed to be angry, and to express my hurt, and if it tumbles out of me in a way that leads to a further conversation about the transgression it’s awesome… but if it doesn’t, I oughtn’t blame myself. It’s going to take a long time to sort this crap out, because of how ingrained hatred and fear are in people’s heads. If the duty is solely handed to the victimised, the bullied and the oppressed… well nothing is ever going to change.

Firstly, you know how I feel about body shame that is dressed up as fashion advice. It’s bogus. No one should be harassed, mocked or attacked for wearing clothes (or NOT wearing clothes). There is absolutely no weight limit on leggings or skinny jeans. There is, however, an abundance of people who are falling into a trap of being way too invested in what other people do, and wear. Why do they care so much? Probably because it gives them a sense of being better than other people, but that is a terrible foundation to build one’s self esteem upon. It’s a foundation that benefits business, not people, and it suits the beauty, fashion and weight loss industries to have every day people like you and I reinforcing arbitrary beauty standards that help shift units so people can feel better about themselves by putting other people down, therefore reinforcing arbitrary beauty standards (stop me before I get sucked into this infinite loop here guys).

I reject those arbitrary standards. I reject the imaginary line between skinny and fat, the line that’s a size 6 for some people and a size 14 for others. And if you’re friends with a fat person, they lose 4 imaginary dress sizes on the basis of that friendship (“Oh honey, you’re not fat! Don’t be so mean to yourself!”). I reject the beauty ideal. I reject the idea of the “flattering outfit”. I reject the gender binary. I reject being ladylike. These standards are not nobel things to uphold – they trap us, and constrict us. They push us into target markets so we can be sold things more easily. And while I can say with 150% gusto that I reject these things, I can’t help but toe the line sometimes without even realising. Societal conditioning is that strong, it’s that pervasive.

So when someone makes fun of me for: being fat, wearing “unflattering” clothes, looking like a man, being a bitch, having acne, not being polite or gracious, wearing too little perfume, wearing too much perfume, having gunk in my eye, wearing a t-shirt that shows my belly when I raise my arm, perspiring a lot or laughing too loudly… It’s totally personal, but then again, it totally isn’t. We all have a variety of unique and personal characteristics, and they might read a little differently depending on where you live, what you look like, how much you earn, the colour of your skin or what gender you are, but at the end of the day those criticisms are about hemming you in and disempowering you. I can’t even get angry at people who insult me anymore because I know most of us are conditioned to think this way.

I know for a FACT, despite the protestations in this particular facebook group, that seeing a fat person in leggings or skinny jeans will not cause injury. I’ve read quite a few comments from members who seem personally insulted when they see someone wearing something they don’t agree with. This is hyperbole. This is like when Mr. Burns (from the Simpsons) puts his arms in the air and flails them about. I like to imagine these people doing the Mr. Burns flail. It’s that comical to me. So, when I discovered the person who submitted my photograph to this group (please note, it’s NOT the group owner) I wrote her a message and I didn’t rip her a new arsehole. I just couldn’t, you know? Here’s what I wrote:

I am so privileged to have so many supporters, and I received a metric buttload of messages yesterday from so many wonderful people who reported the group, and the use of my photograph. I can’t help but feel sad for other people who have had their photo posted without permission, who don’t have so many people reporting the misuse of their images. I tried to go through and report as many as I could, and I encourage you to do the same. I’m not linking to the group, however, just because I don’t want to give it too much publicity.

Today I discovered that my photograph had been taken down by facebook but there are hundreds of other photos still up. I’m grateful that facebook actually took notice of the literal army of people who reported my photograph on my behalf, but it’s still sad that the group is still active. I don’t know the best way to combat this kind of harmful attitude, but I think discussion plays a big role. That’s why I wrote a note to the person who submitted my photograph, and that’s why I’m writing this blog entry. I want to contribute to productive discussion, even though a part of me wants to call them giant dirt-sucking arseholes.

Let me promise you, and me, one thing. I will NEVER stop being visible, online and offline because not only do I have a right to visibility, but when I make myself and my fatness visible I make this personal. I get the impression that members of this group don’t think the people in the photos they submit are real, but they are. And they write messages and blog posts, and have the support of the Fat-o-sphere as well as other allies, friends and family.

I was mucking around the other day with cloning myself and here is the result of that. I think we all need to tell ourselves to get out there and werq it at some stage!! What’s funny about this picture? No hair or make up done, and a completely hilarious outfit consisting of things I’d probably never wear together. Sometimes you’ve just gotta make a fool out of yourself :D

Here are some typographical pieces for the Tell Me About Your Body in 10 Words or Less zine. Out of context these phrases could mean different things entirely!

Remember that time I was all gung-ho about the Couch to 5k? I remember that time. It didn’t last long. After struggling with finding exercise gear that fit and fearing nasty people yelling things out at me (which totally eventuated), you know what? I stopped doing it. I didn’t like that I stopped running, because I enjoyed it but I needed to sort this problematic stuff out first.

I started with finding a solution to one huge problem: I didn’t have a proper bra that I could do such a high impact activity in without a lot of pain and discomfort. The amount of moaning I’ve done on this issue is legendary, and as a result of that moaning the president of Enell emailed me. I’d been trying to buy an Enell bra from a few different places with no luck so I was really upset and aggravated about the whole issue. Renelle, the kind and benevolent president, had heard my cries and sent me three bras. I actually weeped with relief when I got them. They fit! I could jump up and down without my chest slapping me in the chin! I could hang upside down without my boobs falling out of their cups! It was an Actual Revelation.

Recently my husband and I found ourselves in a position where we could actually afford a gym membership, so we signed up at a Jetts 24 hour gym. And you know what? Now that the issue of heckling is mostly removed, I feel so much more motivated to exercise. I don’t think that many people with slimmer builds consider this constant anxiety about being harassed for being fat whilst one is exercising. It’s a huge barrier – an unhealthy barrier for everyone. I’m really impressed with Jetts and Jess the manager, who is also looking after Nick and my programme. I told her that weight loss wasn’t my primary concern, and that I wanted to focus on fitness and strengthening my arms and she listened to me! You guys, I’ve never had a fitness professional actually listen to me and design a programme that actually helps me (rather than helping the fitness professional feel like they’re Saving A Fatty)! The gear is all new, there’s a cap on memberships so that you don’t have to fight for equipment, and the cardio machines have TVs built in to them (so I can shake my fist at moron politicians on morning TV). We’ve gone almost every second morning since signing up, and even though the walking lunges with 5kg weights in each hand is leaving me with screaming thighs, I’m feeling more energetic and motivated.

The final piece of the puzzle is the exercise pant. I’ve been wearing some men’s 2xl Slazenger tights, which are pretty rad for preventing chafing but I’m wanting a pair of actual women’s pants. Because you know, I’m a woman. Nick has been searching for some skins that will fit him too, because it seems like Australian retailers don’t think that a 6xl man could be exercising (while self righteous doctors abuse “The Obese” for not exercising in the background!) We found an American retailer called Aero Tech Designs which stocks cycling and work out gear up to proper plus sizes and ordered some pants each. I’ll let you know how that goes when we receive them!

So right now at least, I’m enjoying the gym. I’m enjoying the time I allocate for myself which turns into time spent with Nick having a quick coffee before we start our working days. It’s good stuff!

You may have noticed that I’ve been super busy and maybe a little bit patchy with the blogging recently but I’m trying not to beat myself up over it. It’s just that things have to give way when stuff is happening, and I have to recognise that I’m not Super Awesome At Being Everything To Everyone Girl. One of the things that I had to put on hiatus was drawing for the zine, but this afternoon I wasn’t feeling very good so I went to bed with my sketchbook.

The volume of statements people have contributed is huge and big and overwhelming so I’ve been trying to think of ways I can cut down on the number of pages and the amount of time it’ll take me to illustrate everything. I’m not really sure what the word for it is, but I experienced a moment of [insert that word there] when I read Mel Stringer‘s Telephone & Me zine. (Side note: you should buy one, I felt so emotional reading it!) Mel’s compiled illustrations she’s done which kind of read like diary entries. The sketchy/ doodly approach really appealed to me so I thought I’d stop being such a perfectionist and do some of the statements as quick sketches. So I did that and I’m very happy with them! These snaps are just a couple of my favourites.

I may not wear tights as pants because I have a body that is typically seen as unattractive by society and I feel the oppression of that shame daily, no matter what I wear. (Don’t you feel it too?!) One day though might I want to put my balls on the line, nay the seam, and wear tights as pants because I feel they are a powerful symbolism of body love and acceptance. When I’m out and about and I see a person taking risks in personal styling by maybe wearing only a t-shirt and tights, I applaud loudly inside my heart and declare them my Personal Hero of the Day. What a terribly boring world we’d live in if we all dressed conservatively!

That aside, the more important point is that bodies are not enemies. There are a lot of reasons why we wear clothes but I think the most telling reason is to cover up our Terribly Rude Bits in some attempt to distance ourselves from animals. I really don’t think it has anything to do with morals – it’s more to do with shame. Maybe nudists have got it right, you could call them Kings and Queens of body acceptance! Certainly then those who wear tights as pants are the Prime Ministers of the turbulent state of Body Love.

(PS: Since this is a positive body space, I’m not particularly interested in comments in defence of the “tights are not pants” stance. I want to encourage you to think a little bit before regurgitating societally transmitted negative body messages.)

I’m so overwhelmed at the positive response to my Tell me about your body in 10 words or less project! At the moment there are 183 statements that people have contributed, which not only blows my mind but it makes me think that perhaps the zine (or book!) could be split into a few parts. I’m still mulling it over, but it’s a happy problem to ponder!

I really didn’t expect to feel so affected by each statement. Thank you for entrusting your feelings to me, it feels like I am creating an album of thoughts that all of us can perhaps identify with.