Junior physiology and neurobiology major
While perusing the Twittersphere a few weeks ago, @WolfpackAlan linked me to an article titled, “The Top 15 Sexiest Plus Size Women.” I clicked through the slides, which featured pictures of Adele, Kate Winslet (since when is she plus-size?), Kirstie Alley, Kelly Clarkson and Christina Hendricks. All gorgeous, talented, successful women — each having earned a place in Hollywood through a combination of luck, hard work, a featured role on Glee and/or Simon Cowell’s endorsement. Yet in terms of looks, these women aren’t ever compared to the likes of Rihanna, Kate Hudson, Cameron Diaz or even Martha freaking Stewart because of their size. There is never an article written, picture posted or compliment given to bigger women without a specific mention of their size. It’s the ultimate backhanded compliment. They can’t simply be beautiful women; they have to be beautiful plus-size women, which in our culture equals significantly less.
In American society, weight is the initial barometer of attractiveness. Women who are not skinny are instantly cast into a lower tier than smaller women. This isn’t relegated strictly to women, either — at least a plus-size woman has a shot at being thought of as attractive, as long as she has curves in all the right places — see Christina Hendricks. The first thing that autofills when you type her name into Google is weight or size, believe it or not. So much for her acting. After reading this article, I Googled, “Top Most Attractive Plus Size Men.” Millions of results, and absolute zilch on the topic. So, plus-size women are criticized, but plus-size men aren’t even allowed to see the light of day.
So maybe I, as a size-12 woman, am better off. At least I can aspire to being in a tabloid feature someday about how miraculous it is that some percentage of the population still finds me attractive — despite the fact that my thighs touch when I walk. I was browsing through a Cosmo the other day at Giant and read a four-page article about a size-12 “plus-size” model that expounded on her arduous journey as a model and how comfortable she is with her weight. What an inspiration.
This is not a ubiquitous, worldwide trend. Biologically, it isn’t even an accurate one. Across many cultures, women whose hipbones you can’t see are the ones who are the most attractive, because having some bulk displays wealth, prosperity and good health — as well as the ability to not die in childbirth. Obviously, Americans have really taken that idea to the bank, since we now have more obese people than underweight ones. But it boils down to a simple question: Why has weight become the ultimate indicator of sex appeal? Attractiveness is completely subjective, after all.
Why can’t confidence work through the same mechanism? Maybe if self-esteem were what societally drove sexiness, people would be inspired to find ways to love themselves as they are. That way, thinner people can be attractive. Bigger people can be sexy. It’s not what you wear; it’s how you wear it. As Donna Summer once said, “If you got it, flaunt it.” How you perceive other people can affect how others judge your own feelings on relative attractiveness. If someone found Seth Rogan mind-bendingly sexy circa “Superbad,” that wouldn’t fit in so well with all the other tweens crooning about Zac Efron’s abs, and then what would happen? Would People’s “100 Most Beautiful” actually start to contain a face or two not altered by surgery and/or Photoshop? Would Abercrombie & Fitch start selling jeans that could fit someone larger than a Barbie doll? Would characters like Lauren Zizes on Glee actually be more than a caricature?
To quote the Tootsie Pop Owl, the world may never know.
Sarah Gordon is a junior physiology and neurobiology major. She can be reached at gordon@umdbk.com.
