In praise of reality
I’d like to take a little break from this blog’s usual program of fashion and textile history, New Zealandia, cats and pretty pictures to talk about something really important to me. I have a pet peeve. I hate it when I hear the terms “real women” and “real bodies” used, when what they mean is “women with a larger width to height proportion.” Actually, it’s more than a peeve, and I don’t just hate it. I find it mean, and hurtful, and incredibly rude and ignorant, especially since it is often used by people who are trying to celebrate women’s bodies. I read that phrase recently in an interview with a New Zealand woman who is trying to improve women’s body image. She said that she wanted to show “curvy women, women like me, real women” that they were beautiful. I just sat down and cried my eyes out. Who are you to say that I’m not a real woman, with a real body, just because I am a true size 10 with a slightly …