So London called for an Amnesty of Guns last week and I thought I might take this opportunity to ask the ladies listening if we could have an amnesty of our own. If I could ask women to come forwards and to admit our guilt, to put our criticism and judgment aside with no consequences, simply with the promise that we wont use them again in the future. Because depressingly, in recent weeks I’ve realized that try as we might to blame them, it is not men killing the curvy woman, it’s us.
For years we have acknowledged and tried to fight the Size Zero Society that we have become so accustomed to, recognizing it’s hold over us but perhaps not looking deep enough to find its cause. We know that most men love a curvy woman. On the logic that millions of people around the world are happily married, and all around us we see love between people, (who average out at a size 12), we must assume that love does run deeper than anything else. So if it’s not our boys doing this to us, who is?
Did you know that Adele was on the cover of the worst selling issue of Vogue Magazine? This is the woman with 9 Grammy Awards, 11 Billboard Awards and a GOLDEN GLOBE! And a baby. And a husband that loves her. And a cracking voice. Did you also know that Beyonce’s cover out sold Michelle Obamas? Well of course you do, you bought it. Ladies, it’s not the men amongst us buying these mags, they don’t care that the Cape has come back, or what moisturizer will sort you out this winter and they are certainly not there for the horoscope, it’s us, we do this.
o you know what men do buy though? En masse? EVERY DAY? The Sun Newspaper. Do you know what the Sun is home to? Page 3. And what is Page 3? It’s women without their tops on. And what do all of these women have? Boobs. And? Hips. And? SMILES. Do you know how many see this a day? 2,069,809 people. And do you know what really, really annoys me? That women, every day are calling Page 3 Girls horrible, horrible things.
So someone needs to explain something to me. Keira Knightley took off her top earlier this month and the whole world screams ‘oh my god, you’re so brave, you’re so beautiful, go you, this is so classy, oh my it’s so tasteful…’ yet the Page 3 Girls doing it every day get branded slags. WHY? How is that fair? These girls aren’t porn-stars, they aren’t half starved and they certainly aren’t a size 6. But you know what they are? Gorgeous. Healthy. Confident. Smiling. So why do we have such a beef with it? Why are ‘feminists’ criticizing it all the time? I’m a feminist. And I love it! Women’s Rights supporters the world over have shared Keira’s Black & White Photos on Facebook telling her what an inspiration she is. Why? Because we can see her ribs? Because she’s an actress? Because she’s classy? Why aren’t we cheering on our curvy friends on Page 3 like this? And why do feminists hate it so much?
When I was growing up Britney Spears was my queen. Despite every shaved head, divorce and breakdown, throughout the nineties and early naughties I fan-girled over her like crazy and thank god for that! She was pretty, cheeky, slim yes, but not thin, for a long time she was the ultimate poster girl. Christina Agularia much the same, her weight fluxuated but there wasn’t a rib in sight. And now I look at Miley Cyrus, the modern day Britney Spears, with every rib jutting out, rubbing herself on things like a dog with worms and I just despair.
And I know what you’re thinking, ‘oh come on Em, you’re telling me you encourage Page 3 but have a problem with Miley taking her top off and having a wiggle?’ No. I don’t mind what Miley Cyrus wears, in fact, every outfit she, or Lady Gaga or Rihanna has ever pulled out I’ve been disincline to bat an eye-lid, because it’s their choice and if their confident enough to stroll around with their nipples out, then rock on. That ballsy-blasé confidence is something I would actively encourage in my daughters. What I don’t love, is that these women are ‘getting away with it’ because they’re skinny. Gemma Collins (albeit VERY annoying) received HUGE criticism for showering in the jungle in I’m a Celebrity last week. For showering? She was in trouble, for cleaning herself because she’s fat? Oh give me a break.
So why is it so hard for women any bigger than a Size 10 to take her clothes off and not be a slag? Why is it that when we put normal women in clothes we won’t buy them? Why when the most talented artist of her generation poses on the cover of Vogue does it sell so badly? Men didn’t come up with ‘Thinspiration’ Men don’t understand the Thigh-Gap. Queen made it very clear that Fat Bottomed Girls make the Rocking World Go Round and Sir Mix-A-Lot likes Big Butts and he Cannot Lie. It’s not the boys this time girls, we are doing this.
Yet most of us are overweight. Or underweight. Or Sad. Or Insecure. So why are we so mean?! We hate our skinny friends but we love the skinny models, it doesn’t make sense. Between Miranda Hart, Jennifer Saunders and my mum I have never had to look to another woman for inspiration. But have they had it easy? Have they fuck. You could cure world hunger, find a way to deliver drinking water to all third world countries, walk on the sun, turn back time, perform a miracle, but you can absolutely guarantee that there’s someone somewhere with something nasty to say about your thighs. WHY can’t we look at another woman’s achievements (instead of her love-handles) and be proud of her?
I’m sure that between Twitter and the Mail Online they have a big something to do with it, we’ve become an anonymous culture hiding behind our keyboards and bullying each other. We’ve taken the playground to new levels and I’m sick of it! If my boyfriend and I were to be photographed out, he in dungarees and me in the most gorgeous dress on the whole planet, you can guarantee that Magiee299 from Wiltshire would tell me that I was too fat for it, or Ami9939 from Oxford say that it wasn’t my colour. Last week Vogue released a lingerie advert of chicks with big tits and even bigger smiles, I saw it on the Daily Mail and I was actually too scared to see it, because I knew what horrible comments would have been made. And that can’t be right?
We have come on a very long way as a sex in the last few hundred years, I am incredibly lucky that in my profession I was never looked down on because I am a girl. But from other places I have been shat on. But not just by men. I have got to the point now where I am more conscious of other women looking at what I’m wearing on the street than I am of the men looking at my bum. And I’m scared of these women, of their judgment, and that is so so wrong. We can be butter-wouldn’t-melt to each other’s faces, but for some reason, our first thought on meeting someone new is judgment. And we need to stop this, we need to pull ourselves together girls; we need to be proud of each other, happy for each other because if we can’t even fight for one another, what chance do we stand?