This is the Modern Way...?

British broadsheet nespaper The Guardian had an interesting piece yesterday in its G2 section (think the fun, comic-sized features accompaniment to the hard-news of the main section).

It reprinted an article first seen in the newspaper in 1924 when The Guardian was still The Manchester Guardian.

Read the text in full here. Ignoring the hilarious tone of the writing, which talks of "the required slimness" and "the everlasting high heels" and note that it concludes with the idea that the fashion for slenderness is...healthy.

A case of plus ca change, plus ca la meme chose, or are the times a-changin', since now it is more or less acknowledged that ultra-thin is ultra-scary? (Albeit in the same publications that then use the ultra-thin models and samples in their shoots...)

I Can See Clearly Now

There are different ways of seeing. John Berger said that "Seeing comes before words. The child looks and recognises before it can speak." But after you have words, you see differently.

I wrote on this site recently about the need to unlearn our skewed aesthetic. How, when confronted over and over with bodies of a certain type, and size, we begin to see them differently. And how further, when these are the only bodies we see, other sorts of bodies begin to look different, wrong somehow, almost grotesque.

It seems so obvious to say. But whilst it's easy to acknowledge, intellectually, that our ways of seeing bodies have been skewed by the bodies we've seen, it is harder to emotionally realise it. Case in point: Heroes has just begun in the UK. I think we're up to episode three, where the cop's wife shows up. The cop is played by Greg Grunberg, who in the scheme of things is a bit of a chubster (cute, though). His wife is played by Elizabeth "Lisa" Lackey, formerly of Home and Away. She's an ex-model, perfectly lovely, but not a teeny tiny toned tiny thing - she has boobs and a faint, cute belly. She's woman-shaped. And my brain said, "ah, like husband like wife - it's the fatty family".

It's ridiculous. I know body fascism and the cult of thin is wrong and fucked up, and the obsession with petite actresses, where anything over 5'1" and 100lbs is 'big', is appalling. But my brain has learned something else and it's so bizarre to me, that however much feminist theory I read and subscribe to and however much I intellectually stand for something, there's bits of my brain that I have no control over, because my ways of seeing have been warped.

This is Lisa Lackey:



Just because she’s not Ellen Pompeo-d herself out of existence, I called her fat. (Crazy, when if this was someone I knew, a friend or a relative, I'd be envying her figure all over the place. But when it's someone on TV or in a magazine, I have, against my will, expectations that they will be a certain size, a certain look.) Speaking of Pompeo, she shares the screen with Katherine Heigl, who again, is normal...wait, not normal. She is, in the words of the show, "eight feet tall. Your boobs are perfect. Your hair is down to there. If I was you I would just walk around naked all the time. I wouldn't have a job, I wouldn't have any skills, I wouldn't even know how to read. I would just be... naked."

Katherine Heigl is, basically, a goddess. But next to her co-star it's easy to read her as 'enormous' because comparatively she is twice Pompeo's size. It's easy to see her slight underchin that the camera adds on and decide that she is 'fat'. I know which of the two figures is more natural, more healthy, and more easily achieved by the average woman...but for some reason it's so difficult to emotionally understand it, to really KNOW that Size 0, 2, 4, etc aren't the norm, aren't the only way of being beautiful.

I've learned to see petite as normal and anything bigger than that as 'unfeminine', as if femininity was natural and not a societal construct. Show leads are often very petite - not merely slim or thin but tiny overall. Think Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex and the City, Sarah Michelle Gellar in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Kristen Bell in Veronica Mars, Rachel Bilson in The O.C., and dozens of others. They are tiny. Not just thin women, but tiny overall. Teeny tiny child-like women. And naturally, any normal-sized actor on the screen looks hulking in comparison.

Mimi Spencer, writing in The Observer, concurs:

"When I worked at Vogue a decade ago, one of the editors produced a beach-shoot featuring a size-14 model [nb. this would be a US size-10]. When they arrived in the office, the photos looked great; the model was statuesque, not overweight. But later, on the published page, tucked in between other shoots and ads featuring the starving Barbaras that are the usual glossy fodder, this lovely woman looked huge, as if she'd been inflated with a bicycle pump. No wonder the experiment wasn't repeated. No wonder Sophie Dahl shrank the moment she made it as a model. Given the choice, we'll take thin, thanks."

Why can we know something and not see it? Is it the prevalence of thin and small women on-screen and in magazines, with so few representatives of other body types? Or is it something more, that in addition to what we're being shown, we're being told something.

Claire Coulson, Daily Telegraph Fashion Editor

"In pictures and on the catwalk, clothes hang much better on very slender girls."

(Source)

Mary McGowne, Head of PR at The Vine

"Clothing looks more tantalising on tall, slim women."

(Daily Express, February 14 2007)

Katharine Hamnett, Designer

"This is so frivolous. Obviously it's tragic for families of anorexics. My bone of contention is that the industry should be ethical and environmental. Clothes look good on thin people and they always have. We weren't having this size zero debate when Twiggy was around.

"Clothes look better on thin people and rubbish clothes look good on thin people. Thin people look good in anything. Don't you think that it is an indictment of an obese society? That's what it is, because we are all fat and think somebody thin is special. It's what's wrong with our society. It isn't just the fashion industry."

(Source)

Alexandra Shulman, Editor of UK Vogue

"Clothes look better to all of our eyes on people who are thinner."

(Source)

Alannah Hill, Australian designer

"Models have to be skinny - that's the point. The job is to be a clothes horse and everyone knows the clothes look better on the catwalk on a thin model. No one wants larger girls to show off their clothes; it looks a bit silly."

(Source)

Gisele Bundchen, supermodel

"Everybody knows that the norm in fashion is thin. But excuse me, there are people born with the right genes for this profession."

(Source)

Kelly Cutrone, People's Revolution

"If we get a girl who is bigger than a 4, she is not going to fit the clothes. Clothes look better on thin people. The fabric hangs better."

(Source)

People genuinely believe what they're saying; people believe clothes look better on the thin, the slim, the tall. I sometimes believe it, even though I 'know' differently. How have we learned to see this way, and how do we learn to see differently? One cover girl or one plus-size model isn't enough, because they will automatically look 'wrong' set amongst other bodies of a thinner type.

I'm trying to unlearn what I've seen and what I've heard. I was a life model for a very long time and that helped in giving me an incredibly strong body confidence: I don't look at my own body and see a flabby disaster area, or compare myself to catwalk models or film stars; I see myself as 5 feet two inches and 130 pounds of fabulosity. Yet I look at other women and judge them for bodies 'better' than my own, just because those bodies are different from the 'best'. I'm content with my own little pot belly and big booty, but I judge other women for not controlling theirs, for not having the discipline to be thin. And it does take discipline: I can be, and have been, twenty pounds lighter and two sizes smaller. But all I thought about was food, all I thought about was exercise. It takes up hours of each day that I'd rather spend writing, working, reading, socialising, shopping...to be thin if you are not naturally so is hard work and dominates your life. Yet a part of me judges women if they don't put in that hard work.

Two things that I'm trying to keep in mind, to unlearn what I've learned, to help me see differently, to help me stop listening to what I'm told about thin and fashion:

Maggie Alderson, former UK Elle editor and fashion writer

"The Princess [Diana] was a great comfort to us ageing babes, too. The closer she got to forty, the better she looked. On one of her last publica appearances, in that tomato-red shift dress, she looked her best ever, glowing in her maturity. I miss that. When fashion magazines are full of malnourished fourteen-year-old girls, sometimes you need reminding just how beautiful grown women with real baby mama tummies are."

and of course, Pulp Fiction:

Fabienne: I was looking at myself in the mirror.
Butch: Uh-huh?
Fabienne: I wish I had a pot.
Butch: You were lookin' in the mirror and you wish you had some pot?
Fabienne: A pot. A pot belly. Pot bellies are sexy.
Butch: Well you should be happy, 'cause you do.
Fabienne: Shut up, Fatso! I don't have a pot! I have a bit of a tummy, like Madonna when she did "Lucky Star," it's not the same thing.
Butch: I didn't realize there was a difference between a tummy and a pot belly. Fabienne: The difference is huge.
Butch: You want me to have a pot?
Fabienne: No. Pot bellies make a man look either oafish, or like a gorilla. But on a woman, a pot belly is very sexy. The rest of you is normal. Normal face, normal legs, normal hips, normal ass, but with a big, perfectly round pot belly. If I had one, I'd wear a tee-shirt two sizes too small to accentuate it.
Butch: You think guys would find that attractive?
Fabienne: I don't give a damn what men find attractive. It's unfortunate what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye is seldom the same.

There are other ways of seeing. I'm not going to stop looking at fashion magazines and beautiful models; but I hope I'm going to look, and see, other things properly too. It's unfortunate what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye is seldom the same. Maybe we can relearn what we see and how we see it, and maybe what we find pleasing to the touch can become pleasing to the eye.

Oscar Magic

I am a huge Oscar nerd so I absolutely had to mention the fashions on Hollywoods biggest night. Personally I felt that almost everyone looked absolutely stunning this year. There were no desperate for attention get ups (hey Cher) no dreadfully dull gowns (hey Jennifer Aniston) and no "what were the thinking" moments (hey again Cher) all in all starlets looked fresh, actors looked polished and I had no complaints. If only this could happen every year. I was also pleased to see a slew of young designer labels one doesn't often see on Oscar night, its about time we saw some Proenza Schouler and Marchesa amidst the sea of Armani.


Miss J's Best Dressed





Gwyneth Paltrow in Zac Posen, Reese Witherspoon in Nina Ricci, Rachel Weisz in Vera Wang, Emily Blunt in Calvin Klein, Rinko Kukuchi in Chanel Couture, Cate Blanchett in Armani Prive, Queen Latifah in Carmen Marc Valvo, Nicole Kidman in Balenciaga

All these girls look just so gorgeous I can't even pick a favorite dress of the evening. Emily, Cate and Rinko (who has been wearing amazing Chanel pieces all awards season) leave me breathless but I actually gasped when I saw Rachel Weisz (can we talk about that jeweled neckline) and Gwyneth. Queen Latifah shows us that horizontal stripes can be a major fashion do, Reese gets a special prize for wearing Theyskens and Nicole's Balenciaga makes me wonder why Nicholas Ghesquière never shows stunning gowns like this on the runway. Perhaps its performance anxiety but something tells me that maybe Nic just wants to keep all the goodies to herself.

Oscar Night Risk Takers



Jennifer Hudson in Oscar De La Renta, Eva Green in Givenchy, Kirsten Dunst in Chanel, Jennifer Lopez in Marchesa


I must admit I did not enjoy Jennifer Hudson's silver capelet at first. The words "hated it" immediately flashed into my mind and even now I'm still on the fence. Overall, the shape detracts from an otherwise appealing bronze gown but I'm glad she took a risk and did something different. Too often we see the same old thing on the red carpet and that blast of metallic python was fresh. I also really enjoyed Eva Green and Kirsten Dunst's gowns though the fashion police may disagree with me. Eva wearing a gown from the Givenchy couture collection, previously featured right here! What I love about this is how she takes such a dramatic couture piece but she really brings it to life. Its nice to see someone wearing something that avant garde especially to an event where fashion conformity is rewarded on some levels. Kirsten's dress was dissed everywhere from E!'s Fashion Police to US Weekly but I love it. Its so utterly coquettish and very Chanel. Not for everyone but I love it. And J.Lo's Marchesa was perfect, very few people could pull off that bling neckline but she is most certainly one of them.

Who did you love Oscar night? I know I'm forgetting about ten gorgeous gowns but I've already cheated my top 10 into a top 12!

Vogue Covergirl Jennifer Hudson Part 2

I'm not lovin it.

The cover in and of itself is a disaster. Why does she look like she's screaming for dear life? Why is her hair all over the place? Why did they airbrush on really bizarre collarbones? I fear answers to these questions do not exist and if they do they're hidden in a secret location only Andre Leon Talley and Anna Wintour know of. No one is ever going to convince me that this was the best picture they had of Jennifer. Unless the camera broke midway through the shoot and they had to take this shot with a $3 point and shoot disposable camera someone picked up at Duane Reade.

I was excited for this because quite frankly it could have been an incredibly positive thing. Instead they took a beautiful girl and made her look horrid. Check out her Essence cover if you want to see her looking gorgeous as per usual. I'm still pleased to see someone who isn't razor thin on the cover of Vogue but wow, we've got a long way to go.

Hot Off the Press From London Fashion Week

Direct from the BFC Tent
By Olivia

Two days in, and a week that started as a slightly safe, if chic, trip down memory lane with Paul Costelloe and Caroline Charles revisiting the ladylike portions of the 1960s (think Jackie O, false eyelashes and swinging coats rather than, well, swinging) has taken a turn for the bizarre (as London always does) with Manish Arora's tour de force of a show, which finished barely an hour ago. (When I say hot off the press, I mean HOT -- I have dashed from the catwalk to my keyboard to file this story.)

Paul Costelloe's show yesterday was, as stated, safe and chic, but still divinely wearable. The clothes may have been sent down the catwalk layered over gold spangled long-sleeved bodystockings, but it doesn't take much imagination - or sense - to remove the gold bodystocking portion of the look and stick to the classic silhouettes and fabrics he showed. Hemlines had dropped to the knee in this collection, and shapes played it safe with classic A-line shifts being the order of the day rather than the "sack dress" styles we have seen elsewhere.

Babydolls at Paul Costelloe.

A 1960s retrospective in jewel tones at Caroline Charles.

It was a fairly colour-free collection - the occasional tomato red or hot pink trench seemed oddly out of place amongst the muted browns and golds - but the soft colours matched the classic designs perfectly.

Caroline Charles' show opened similarly with swingy coats and a Jackie O retrospective feel (even the soundtracks to the two shows could have been the same), which is to be expected from a designer who first came to prominence in that decade, but somewhere along the catwalk we went from oversized A-line satin dresses in jewel tones, accessorised with PVC headbands anbold, round earrings; to looks that can only be described as "Russian funereal chic". Nothing ground-breaking, daring or fashion-forward, but plenty of classic pieces for those who love an easily wearable capsule wardrobe. I particularly enjoyed the opening series of babydoll dresses, and later, the richly coloured satin shirts styled with loose velvet trousers.

Ben de Lisi followed, and I refuse to comment on it because I don't believe anyone wants to wear a 1980s prom nightmare cocktail dress in velvet and taffeta, unless I'm judging fashion's pulse entirely incorrectly... (Although there was one look, the floor-length blich pink tulle-and-chiffon evening dress, that was just perfect, if safe. When it's right it's right, and when it's wrong, well when it's wrong it's a velvet, lace and taffeta shiny leopard print combo that no-one should have to see or wear.)

After such inaspicious beginnings, I was concerned London was starting to play it safe. Would Gareth Pugh renounce his previous collections and show us a series of tame cocktail dresses? Was Giles Deacon going to send chic, simple gowns down the catwalk? Was Christopher Kane's bubble finally going to burst, a year after graduation? Thank goodness then, for Manish Arora. Where Sunday had run a bare 15 minutes behind schedule - yawn - this show started an hour late: the first signal that the week had found its feet. The tent pulsated with excitement - it was the first time the tent had been truly packed, and the first time any designer had made use of the mirrorball...

The mirrorball span...the lights went down...the music (pumping house, hardcore nu rave, banging beats) kicked in...and the models stepped out.

Imagine, if you will, dropping acid and watching Pucci on crack, and you're somewhere in the vicinity of the riotous colour and panache of Manish Arora. Models sported straight-fringe bobbed wigs in tomato red and lime green...except those in glittered skullcaps with bejewelled foreheads. Bat-wing satin blouses in gold-and-black zebra prints were worn over leather or PVC leggings; whilst the ubiquitous 1960s A-line tunic dresses took a turn for the psychadelic with lime-and-black prints, multi-coloured metallic designs, or appliqued metallic shapes.

All of these looks were, strange as it seems, utterly wearable. (Okay, perhaps the lime green puffed Bacofoil coat with hood would seem out of place at the supermarket, as might the fitted futuristic leather-and-mesh fighting shirt.) Nothing was skintight except leather and PVC leggings, but these were designed to be worn under flattering tunic dresses and not on their own. Dresses were neither skintight nor baggy - nothing is less flattering to the plus-sized woman than the "cover it all with an oversize kaftan and hope for the best" look. It makes all of us look like sofas, sofas under dust covers at that. These dresses were loose to be sure, but they had a shape to them.

Even the leather trousers - an item one usually associates with skintight, when one isn't busy associating them with ageing hipsters and rocker dads who should really know better - were styled loose and pleated, draped and folded to flatter the curve of the leg, and let the skin breathe. Madames Gres and Vionett would have been proud. 1960s babydoll dresses proved to be a running theme, but here they were so much more exciting. Where Costelloe and Charles played the retro theme safe with classic colours and retro accessories, Arora opted for modern fabrics and near-garish prints, taking the babydoll into the 21st century and beyond.

TFFF Editorials: Vogue vs. Logic

TFFF welcomes the newest member of our team the divine Olivia, reporting straight from London Fashion Week, giving us the scoop on all things Brit. Here she sounds off on British Vogue's response to the skinny model debate.

Vogue vs. Logic
by Olivia

So farewell New York Fashion Week, and hello to Le Fwuh, as I am so wittily calling LFW. We kick off on Sunday with Paul Costelloe , the off-schedule kicks in on Monday, and Marc by Marc Jacobs sees us out next Friday. London has three free daily newspapers and all the national papers are based out of London, so naturally with Fashion Week around the corner the size zero debate is gearing up for round two and we are surrounded by headlines and debate.

Vogue (UK March issue) has a six-page feature on the issue, which prevaricates between admitting that the industry is deeply flawed, and pretending like everything's okay because fashion is their business, and it is a business .

On Wednesday we saw that even famous faces are not exempt from the problem. When one talks of models and eating disorders and dying from being too skinny, one thinks of the more anonymous models, ones that the fashion-obsessed might know of but Joe Public can't put a face or a name to. The average girl can't name a Luisel Ramos or an Ana Carolina Reston until they see the names in a news story on model deaths. However they can probably recognise, if not name, Natalia Vodianova, Daria Werbowy, Gemma Ward and Lily Cole because they have contracts for major perfume, beauty and high street campaigns that reach even the non-fashiony person. If 'name' models haven't the power or status to be whatever weight they care to be, what hope less powerful models? The only possible exception is Kate Moss, but she is an exception to just about every rule.

Kate will never die from being too skinny. She might die from: cocaine / Pete Doherty contracted STDs / exhaustion / overexposure / choking on her own vomit, but not from starving herself. She is by no means a healthy woman nor one with a high BMI. But she's also Kate Moss. Her nose is caving in; she lost every contract going after her nose candy parade; she is not looking good; she's phoning in her recent campaigns and yet...mo' money is not leading to mo' problems with La Moss. She's untouchable, and should any designer be fool enough to say "Katie, honey, lay off the pies would you sweets?" she could have them killed.

At a recent London College of Fashion debate chaired by Alexandra Shulman, featuring Roland Mouret and Lily Cole, the subject of "zoinks -- models sure are thin!" arose. Mouret explained that in a catwalk show, to ensure nothing distracts from the clothes, the clotheshorses have to be uniform in size and appearance. (Hence the identical hairstyles and make-up looks designed for a show.) I can understand Mouret's point, but why must that uniformity be based around thin?

There is a certain impact to be had with uniformity. Remember this?

Linda. Cindy. Naomi. Christy. Same size, same shape…supermodels. Just watching this video shows how strange and unattractive size zero really is. Viva la 1990s!



One of Vogue's arguments is that designers simply can't afford to make more than one size of each sample. Let me just dissect that for the bullshit that it is:

ONE. If you can barely afford to make samples, and are making just one of each look, why must the sample size of choice be a 2, 4, 6, 8 decision? Alberta Ferretti makes sample clothes in a UK 10, US 6. I'm fairly certain the fabric of society (and her clothes) has not been torn asunder by this and designers could go further and make 12s or 14s. (I'm talking in UK sizing here.)

TWO. If we're talking haute couture and the gown is sewn by blind seamstresses in Paris ateliers out of woven unicorn hair and gilded with the tears of orphans, perhaps you can only afford to make one.

But I've seen a lot of sample clothes. (See, stroked, coveted, contemplated stealing.) Very often, extraordinary design aside, they are ordinary. Worn by model after model after model and steam cleaned daily and flown hither and thither, within a few weeks they begin to disintegrate. They are made for two shows, a dozen shoots and a few personal appearances, not for sale.

Samples are sturdy, but -- crucially -- not precious. The finished clothes may end up costing $7,500 in the shops but the sample is not worth that money. Yes, it costs more to make two. But that cost is: (a) not twice the cost of the finished product when it becomes available to buy, because that's not how samples work, and (b) what cost is worth women's mental and physical health?

THREE. Since for most fashion houses the clothes do not make the profit -- it comes from the key-chains, the bags, the shoes, the perfumes -- losing a little money on a sample cannot reasonably make a difference. Launch a diffusion perfume and bang! money recouped.

FOUR. New designers are sponsored by enterprises like Lulu Kennedy's FashionEast or Topshop's NewGen. If corporations are prepared to pay to put on a show, they should be prepared to pay for as many sample sizes as it takes. Topshop makes a mint out of its associations with high fashion and new designers; they have the cash to splash to make larger samples. They owe it to their customers.

Vogue says: "Hollywood should ask itself about the body image it promotes and the size it insists upon; yes, magazines such as Heat are unhelpful; yes, there is a hypocrisy when newspapers moralise about the dangers of skinny models, only to print photographs of them at their skinniest, alongside purposefully unflattering pictures of celebrities who have put on weight". It goes on to point out that Vogue does not employ models who are under 16 and thus haven't reached their adult weight. In other words: look, we made a concession! And say, lookit all these other factors we can blame! Vogue rulez ok! Etc.

There is certainly more than one factor to blame, and we have all learned new ways of seeing, unconsciously or not, from magazines and television, that make certain healthy sizes look 'fat' to us, and we have to unlearn these. But aside from who to blame and why this is happening, I have another question. Not "why thin?" or "why fat?" or "who's to blame?". But this: why women? London Fashion Week begins tomorrow. Let's see if it brings any answers.

Jennifer Hudson, Vogue Covergirl

From WWD:

Jennifer Hudson is clearly the woman of the hour. After securing an Oscar nomination, a Golden Globe and a Screen Actors Guild award for best supporting actress for her role in "Dreamgirls," the "American Idol" runner-up has landed the March Power cover of Vogue. Hudson was photographed by Annie Leibovitz at the Apollo Theater as part of a seven-page photo essay inside, but the chances of one of those photos ending up on the cover were high even before Hudson won a Globe late last month. But, presumably, her win helped seal the deal. Vogue has featured only two African-Americans on its cover since December 2002 — Oscar-winning actress Halle Berry and model Liya Kebede.

This is HUGE. For plus sized women, for minority women, for all women. I can only imagine how refreshing it will be to open up the worlds most celebrated fashion magazine and see a woman outside the standard magazine comfort zone represented as beautiful, sexy and fashionable. I can't wait till it hits newstands!

Fingers crossed they don't airbrush her into oblivion.