Singer Halsey’s new song, “Hand That Feeds,” debuted late last week. It features Evanescence lead singer Amy Lee – an exciting collaboration of voices that I was eager to enjoy.
But then I watched the video.
Halsey herself is the focal point at first – she croons to camera between long shots that are trained on her’s and others’ lean, lithe bodies, all of them dressed as ballet dancers navigating a violent, post-apocalyptic urban landscape. Then Lee enters, her vocals as clear and as strong as they’ve ever been. But Lee, who is also older and bigger, is not given the same visual treatment as her co-star. The edits of her are faster, distorted or awash in strobe lighting; she’s shown shoulders-on-up, or behind a metalworking device that hides her body; her outfit conceals in ways the tights and tutus around her do not.
I’m aware that some may scoff, attributing my observations to hypersensitivity. But this isn’t a new phenomenon. Heart lead singer Ann Wilson, and Carnie Wilson of Wilson Phillips – both plus-size women – were given similar staging, framing and costuming directives in music videos that featured them.
Except… those other examples are from the early 1990s. Truth be told, I thought we were past this.
But this year, I’ve repeatedly seen proof of a regression in body positivity and fat acceptance crop up. Another example is Elisabeth Moss’ recent cover story in Variety, which sees the now-slightly-heavier actress styled more like a schoolmarm than a celebrity, her body hidden behind oversized dresses and cover-up garments. As though the added pounds are offensive and must be concealed.
Smallness, it seems, is once again en vogue. Weight-loss drugs Ozempic and Mounjaro have accelerated this shift, along with the return of early-2000s fashions that are downright uncomfortable for certain body types to wear.
Yes, once again, thin is “in” – which means we fat people are meant to be “out.” Or at the very least, “away.”
This isn’t just my imagination – experts and fashion insiders alike have been sounding the alarm for months. Celebrity stylist Ariel Tunnell noted to NBC News last December that “we are taking a step backwards” from what had been “a bigger push for inclusivity and body acceptance.” And Vogue Business, atop its annual size inclusivity report published last fall, noted that “progress has stalled,” and “we are facing a worrying return to using extremely thin models.”
This backslide can be tied to similar regressions around acceptance of people in other marginalized groups: Members of the LGBTQ community, people of color and disabled individuals. And this bigger shift is occurring, in no small part, because of the re-election of President Donald Trump.
In addition to he and his base longing for a return to the prevalence of “tradwives” as the womanly norm, Trump’s second term has brought with it militarism, oppositional suppression and populism – the building blocks of fascism. Another noxious brick propping up the autocracy? Visual conformity. Late professor and author Brian Pronger referred to the phenomenon as “body fascism,” in which aesthetic norms are not only heavily encouraged via social pressures, but also imposed upon people by punishing deviations from the norm. (See also: The Trump administration’s treatment of transgender people.)
And as noted in a recent New York Times piece, “there is a very specific look associated with women [especially] who subscribe to the Trump worldview” – flowing tresses, high heels, sheath dresses. Yes, it’s unquestioningly women who are more impacted by this quite-literally-narrowing definition of what’s “good.” The erosion of our collective right to bodily autonomy has extended beyond what we do with our bodies, and into how we look. For women of color, it’s even worse – as writer Leslie Vargas pointed out in an op-ed for AFROPUNK, weight discrimination is racist to its roots, a means of “pathologizing larger Black bodies as undesirable, uncivilized, and inherently inferior” to reinforce white supremacy.
But here’s the thing. We don’t need to perpetuate the bigotry that sees us fat people given fewer professional opportunities and personal connections simply because we’re once more being pressured to do so. And we certainly needn’t go back into hiding ourselves in any way.
Organizations like the National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance and individuals like Jae’lynn Chaney are trying to light a path forward. She’s a fat acceptance activist who speaks out against fatphobia via her blog and popular Instagram account. And she’s not alone in this work. The NAAFA’s Tigress Osborn, model Enam Asiama, motivational speaker Mermaid Chè Monique and size inclusivity consultant Andrea Kelly are also among those fighting the good fight in a public way. And there’s even an annual event – Fat Con – where fat people can gather to celebrate and collaborate on how to make ours a more equitable world.
In a New Year’s blog post, Chaney said acknowledgment of the problem is critical to solving it. “Fighting fatphobia requires conscious effort and collective action. By recognizing bias and actively challenging it, we can create a society where all bodies are valued and respected.”
We can also push back by simply refusing to let toxic messaging take root, within each other or within ourselves. My love of my body – regardless of whether it’s “in” or not – is hard won and carefully preserved.
Let’s not let that go out of style ever again. ◼️
