Last night my husband and I watched the DVD of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Cute movie. More than cute, actually -- refreshing to see a film featuring four intelligent, talented, spunky young women in which the heroines loved and supported one another and the male characters were peripheral, instead of the usual film offerings that feature a token female among the primary cast, or girls that scheme against or battle each other.
The fact that one of the main characters is fat and played by the actress America Ferrera (who starred in the wonderful film Real Women Have Curves) is a plus, too.
But none of that is why I'm writing right now. What prompted this post is not a desire to urge people to see this movie (although you certainly could do worse), but to muse about one comment in the film. A line tossed off casually in the course of the four teenage heroines developing a list of rules about wearing the pair of blue jeans they found that magically fit all four of their bodies, which range from tall and slim to short and plump.
The line? "You can't say you're fat in the pants."
OK, I didn't take notes during the movie, and I haven't read the book on which the movie is based, so that's not an exact quote. But that's the gist of the line (or rule). And it struck me as a sad exemplar of ingrained prejudices about fatness.
These smart, funny, talented, beautiful girls are co-creating a set of rules intended to empower them individually as well as their connections to each other. It's clear to me that in saying "you can't say you're fat in the pants" they are trying to encourage themselves to think positively about their bodies. But they (or the author of the book) screwed up. Because what that line really says is FAT IS BAD. FAT BODIES ARE BAD. LOVING YOUR BODY MEANS NOT THINKING (OR SAYING) IT'S FAT.
And that is wrong, wrong, wrong.
What's wrong with saying you're fat? Why does saying you're fat have more emotional charge than, for instance, saying you have blue eyes or blonde hair?
The answer, of course, is that contemporary American culture is deeply prejudiced about fatness. About fat people. And so many of us have unquestioningly absorbed those prejudices that "fat" has become an epithet. A four-letter word. One that many of us throw against other people or ourselves in hatred. In most cases, perhaps (or perhaps I would like to think), not appreciating how deeply alienating, hurtful, and ignorant that is.
What's alienating, hurtful, and ignorant is not, however, the word "fat" or the state of body (and being) considered "fat." What's damaging and ignorant is considering "fat" and fatness itself negative, instead of seeing it as just a type of body tissue.
Tissue composed of cells that contain energy and nourishment. That naturally occur in our bodies. That occur in varied sizes and placement and ranges depending on a host of factors including, probably most prominetly, genetics. (While there are certainly other factors that influence the number and size and placement of our fat cells -- such as dieting history, medication, stress, food, and activity levels -- exactly how any of those other factors are expressed in individual bodies is probably most strongly influenced by genetic programming.)
Try this on for size: "You can't say you're Puerto Rican in the pants." "You can't say you're blonde in the pants."
The first, I hope, is immediately apparent as offensive....and just as ridiculous and self-abnegating for the fat Puerto Rican character of Carmen (played by America Ferrera) to say as denying she is fat.
The "blonde" line? Well, only one of the four female heroines is blonde (the long-maned supermodel lookalike Bridget, played by Blake Lively). If you accept that "blonde" is simply a hair color, like "fat" simply describes another body feature, then saying "you can't say you're blonde in the pants" just doesn't make sense. Why would Bridget deny (or pretend?) she isn't blonde? Why would the other girls say they're blonde when they're not? More important, why would saying you're blonde be a bad thing, something to forbid?
Ah, but if you believe "blonde" is synonymous for "dumb" or "bimbo" or other stereotypes....then the line takes on another flavor. And by forbidding you (and your girlfriends) from saying it, you empower the stereotype. Just as the "Traveling Pants" sisterhood offhandedly empowered the stereotype of fat as bad and ugly.
See how insidious our culture's prejudices about fat are?
Listen up, folks. F-A-T. Count 'em. Three letters. Fat is not a four-letter word.
"Fat" is not an obscenity. It's not perjorative in and of itself. The obscenity, the negativity, the hatred we need to forbid (if we're coming up with empowering rules) is the perception that fat is bad and ugly.
We don't change anything meaningful by disallowing ourselves this particular f-word as applied to our own or others' bodies. But by owning the word as it truly applies to us -- as it truly describes an aspect of our embodiment -- and appreciating it just as we do (or can) other aspects of our body or appearance -- we can make change in our personal realm. And by refusing to accept others' negative perceptions of fat and fatness and holding them accountable for their prejudices, we can begin to change the interpersonal realm as well.
So go ahead. Say you're fat in those pants, if you truly are. (If you're not really fat, then saying you are is just silly.)
Reminds me of another movie I watched on DVD a few months ago -- Beauty Shop.
In an early scene, the lovely Queen Latifah is dressing and grooming herself to go out. Her young daughter watches as she examines herself in a full-length mirror.
"Do these pants make my behind look big?" Queen Latifah asks.
Her daughter says solemnly, "Yes, mama, they do."
Queen Latifah breaks into a smile. "Perfect," she says, and struts out the door.
Now that's what we need more of.
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