Score One for the Home Team

The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain—well, not anymore, because (tiny) curves are in in Madrid! AOL News* reports that Spain’s hottest fashion show, Pasarela Cibeles, forbade a number of models from participating this year. . . because they were, oops, too thin. In a surprising example of how Body Mass Indexes can be an effective and reliable health/wellness tool after all, pageant officials calculated models’ indices and dropped each hopeful with a BMI shy of 18.

The show, which features primarily Spanish designers, decided to enact this measure following the aftermath of last year’s show, which featured “bone thin” models. Aghast feminists and medical professionals spoke up, recognizing how parading these forms on the catwalk can fuel national eating-disordered behavior, particularly among young girls. The decision to step in seems to be a collaborative effort of Madrid’s regional government and the Association of Fashion Designers of Spain. AOL readers, it seems, would likely offer their support, as well. In an on-line poll of over 55,000 voters (when I voted), 91% believed that the presence of “ultra-thin” models contributed to the development of eating disorders.

As New York City launches its fall fashion week, I wonder if the U.S. (and other countries) will follow in the Spaniards’ footsteps. After hearing the news, Ryan Brown, of the Elite Modeling Agency in New York, is quoted as saying: “I think it is great to promote health.” Time will tell how many fashion weeks will come and go before such a sentiment is turned into practice on American soil. As for now, Brown notes: “They don't want voluptuous girls any more,” though he adds: “It would be nice if fashion got back to that.” Yes, Mr. Brown, it would.

*thanks to the readers who sent this my way

Google Me This

Coming up on my last week of daily posts, I thought it would be interesting to explore how people found my blog, since when I started out, I only shared the site with a handful of colleagues, family, and friends. As such, I’ve been periodically tracking the Google searches that have landed readers here. Many of them relate to celebrity diet/weight concerns:

-Is Mandy Moore getting fat?
-Beyonce Knowles’ recent weight-loss secret
-Katherine Heigl bra size
-Jessica Alba eating disorder squats
-Jamie Sigler eating disorder
-Katie Couric fat arms

We also seem to be very interested in celebrity dress sizes, including the sizes of some of the aforementioned stars, as well as others.

One of the more popular searches that lands people at my site?

-Woman eating shit

So. . . uh. . . I have absolutely no idea what to say here.

Other searches focus on dieting and eating-disorder tips and techniques:

-What WW members eat
-Non-purging bulimia
-Starve and barf
-Bingeing restrictions
-How to hide an eating disorder

In fact, many are of the pro-ana/pro-mia variety. I can’t even count the number of searches for these terms. I also can’t imagine the disappointment in trying to find a pro-ana site and getting stuck with me. We seem, overall, to be very interested in anorexia and the disappearance of flesh.

-Anorexic 75-lb woman
-Freudian anorexic pregnancy
-Ballerina anorexic images
-47-pound anorexic ballerina
-Anorexic role models

And, the most harrowing query to date?

-How little can a woman weigh and still live

Parenting

A recent study conducted by Boston University’s School of Medicine, and appearing in the June issue of Pediatrics, revealed that children of authoritarian (strict disciplinarian) parents are five times more likely to be overweight by the first grade than those reared by more authoritative (democratic) parents. True, children of overly permissive and/or neglectful parents were even more likely to be overweight, but the question remains—why would kids raised by overly strict parents tend to be more overweight than those exposed to more flexible parenting?

The study’s lead author, Dr. Kyung Rhee, provides some clarity, suggesting that authoritarian parents may inhibit children from developing their self-regulatory abilities. Children instructed to eat brussel sprouts, for instance, instead of vegetables more palatable to them, lose their sense of autonomy and personal choice, which may, in turn, affect their abilities to “listen to their bodies about how full they are,” Rhee says.

Another factor, I’d add, is that children of excessively strict parents may soothe themselves with food in an effort to comfort themselves following (or preceding) frequent disciplining. Moreover, in a system where rigidity is key, children may rebel by overeating, sneaking food as an effort toward self-expression and/or separation from the family.

My Time in the Zone

The story, of which I have no recollection, goes something like this: When I was five, my mother served hamburgers one night for dinner. Always inquisitive, I posed a question to her: “Mommy, how does the cow make the hamburger?” My mother, not wanting to mislead me, replied, “Stacey, this is the cow.” I pushed my plate away.

While I did go on to eat meat again, fast forward about twelve years, and, fueled by burgeoning ideas about animal ethics, as well as a general unrest about chewing animal flesh, I became a full-fledged vegetarian.

A few months before beginning this book, I went on my first organized diet. I wasn’t really trying to lose weight (ok, maybe a few pounds), but was more interested in healthy eating and balancing protein and carbs, as the media told me I should be doing. As a vegetarian, I’m often asked, “Do you get enough protein?” Truth is, I’m not sure I do.

One of the Zone-Diet inspired plans had recently unveiled a vegetarian program, so I decided to give it a go. My go involved about eight servings of tofu a day. I had tofu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and tofu before bed. As I write this, I stand firm (though, not extra firm) in my belief that tofu is not a breakfast food, no matter how closely it resembles a sausage link.

During my trial, I’m really, really hungry and am not sure they figured in my active lifestyle when calculating my portion sizes. A couple of days into the program, I go to the gym and realize my effort is about 50%. I’m tired, and can’t run far. The next time I try to run, I’m even more exhausted. I barely make it home from the gym, dizzy, faint, and unsure of what to do. My normal blood pressure is 90/60, and I can tell I’m south of that. I consider going to the closest E.R. Meanwhile, I plant myself at the computer, and search the panacea for all things medical, the web, where I learn that such diets (particularly for the uninitiated) often create electrolyte imbalances and that salt ingestion is a quick and effective cure. I grab some crackers and slowly begin to feel better, more myself. I toss the remaining meals, feeling slightly rebellious, but healthy and liberated. About a week later, I get a call from a program rep, who asks me how the diet went. I explain how hungry and tired and sick I became, detailing my near emergency-room excursion. His response: “I’m sorry to hear that. We’re offering a discount for the monthly program, which would be only $36.95 a day. Would you like to enroll?”

Gambling on Life

The Hollywood Gossip is a celebrity site that devotes an entire category of posts to eating-disorder gossip. On the site, recently, I found this poll:

Which emaciated star will disappear first?
1) Nicole Richie
2) Kate Bosworth
3) Mischa Barton
4) Paris Hilton
5) Ashlee Simpson

Games: Simon Says, Monopoly, Spades
Not Games: Taking bids on people’s lives

Body Innocence

A while back, I posed the question, “How far back do you have to go to arrive at a time when you weren’t aware of your body?” To frame the question differently, I’m curious when we lose, what I call, our “body innocence.” Body innocence has to do with knowing what your body can do, knowing what you look like, but not being “aware” of your body—not judging your appearance, not worrying about what you’re eating, not checking yourself in the mirror, or weighing yourself repeatedly. Body innocence is accompanied by cognitive innocence of all things diet and weight-related. Becoming body aware (versus innocent) does not necessarily lead to an eating disorder; however, this is often the first step down a windy, insidious path.

What causes us to lose our body innocence? A starting, and certainly not comprehensive, list:
1) An unsuspecting comment by a family member, friend, or peer
2) A purposely cruel comment by a family member, friend, or peer
3) Losing some weight unintentionally and being consequently reinforced by
others
4) Realizing ourselves that we’re not as skinny as other children
5) Being involved in a weight-dependent activity, such as ballet, gymnastics,
cheerleading, or ice skating (let’s not even say, “figure skating”)
6) Exposure to constant media messages about unnaturally thin celebrities
7) Exposure to constant media messages about the dangers of being
overweight
8) Exposure to constant media messages that promote diet pills, plans, and procedures
9) Exposure to family members, friends, or peers, who aren’t body innocent
10) Abuse

Lose 20 Pounds Fast!

By now, you’ve probably heard about Katie Couric’s twenty-pound weight loss. It seems that CBS promotional magazine Watch! Photoshopped, without Couric’s awareness, a recent shot of the anchor-to-be, resulting in a cinched waist, contoured cheekbones, a smaller bust, and thinner arms and hips.

Couric’s response, according to The Daily News: "I liked the first picture better because there's more of me to love." And, really, don’t you just love her more after a comment like this? That’s what the polls say, after all. According to People magazine’s online pole, 54% of us prefer the untouched shot. In other words, we prefer Katie with a little meat on her bones.

Or, do we? Perhaps we like the natural shot because we know it’s natural. It’s the cutesy, girl-next-door we’ve grown to adore. Are we really immune to societal messages that thinner is better? Given pictures of two women who look alike, wouldn’t most, as any advertisering exec would tell you, judge the thinner one to be more attractive? Which do you prefer?

You Could Learn a Lot from a Puppet

Cookie Monster seems to have it down. The newly appointed healthy-foods ambassador (a cookie is a “sometimes food”) offers a good example of mindful eating. A recent issue of Metro (a New York daily) features an interview with the furry, blue, cookie-loving puppet.

Cookie Monster instructs us how to eat a cookie:

You got to eat cookies like this: You pick up the cookie. Look at it. You smell the cookie. It smell delicious usually and then you just go for it like this: AHHMNUMNUMNUMNUMNUM. The more crumbs, the better. Me teach you how to eat cookie professional way.

His message is funny, and grammatically questionable (in classic Cookie Monster style), but highlights some critical features of intuitive eating—allowing yourself to indulge in what you enjoy and making eating a complete sensory experience.

When asked about variety in his diet, Cookie Monster reports: “Me no ever only ate cookies. Me eat everything. Me eat you know, bicycle, fire hydrant, table, chair. Me love cookies but me also eat vegetables.”

Everything in moderation. . .

Product Review: Say Goodbye to Hunger?

The Medifast Diet keeps popping up on my computer, begging me to take a look. Finally, I acquiesce. I’m invited to try a diet that eliminates decisions, freeing me from the calorie- and carb-counting I’m presumed to do on a daily basis. The solution? They count for me, and I get roughly four. . . of each.

The program consists of five Medifast meals per day, accompanied by one “Lean and Green” meal (“lean protein and salad greens”). The Medifast website states: "The clinically proven results of Medifast are designed to create a healthy gap between the calories you take in and the amount your body burns, thus promoting natural weight loss." According to my calculations, and based on the roughly 3,500 caloric-deficit needed for a pound of weight-loss, that’s a “gap” of 2,333 calories a day. If you were eating 2,500 calories a day (and maintaining your weight at that figure), you’ll now eat 167. I don’t see any program-recommended exercise, except for that suggested during the post-diet, “weight-maintenance” stage. In fact, the website states that, “Unless you are already exercising, you should not begin an exercise program in the first few weeks of weight loss.” Clearly, with a deficit of 2,333 calories a day, you’re not going to be able to run that far.

The website advertises that “Medifast programs have been recommended by over 15,000 physicians.” What physicians are recommended this program, given that most people in-the-know do not recommend more than a 1-2 pound weight-loss per week (and this is up to 5)? I also wonder what kind of chemicals, fillers, and multisyllabic ingredients they’re passing off as a meal (the site indicates that most products use “acesulfame potassium” as a sweetener).

The copy promises you’ll never get hungry. That "fast" is part of the product name doesn't bode well for you feeling satisfied. And, anyway, how is this even possible? If you’re eating 2,333 calories per day less than you’re burning, I’d think you’d be hungry! And so do they, to some extent: The FAQ’s page encourages users to take an antacid to deal with persistent hunger pains. Other potential side effects they list? Diarrhea, gurgling stomach cramps, constipation, bad breath, feeling cold, skin rashes, heartburn, and hair loss. All this for short-term weight-loss. After all, even the Medifast people recognize the difficulty of keeping off weight, once you’ve completed the program. The site states:

You will maintain your success by making long-term changes in your lifestyle such as healthy eating and consistent exercise. You may also need to work on how you cope with life so that you don't reach for food when you are experiencing stress, depression or other emotional needs.

If you could do all this, you wouldn’t be turning to Medifast in the first
place. . . .

An Afternoon in a Coffee Shop

I’m sitting at a coffee shop this weekend, working on this book. A few people wander behind me, and I’m half-listening to their conversation as I write. One of the women asks the man, “Is that your lunch?” And then I hear (from the man): “Yeah. I’m on a diet. My goal weight is four pounds.” I turn around. He notices me, noticing him, and asks, “What do you think? Is that a good goal?”

I glance back at my computer screen before replying, “I’m writing a book on eating disorders, so I’m going to go with ‘no.’”

He laughs, but then continues: “My whole life, I’ve wanted to be anorexic—but I’m always hungry. I wish I were anorexic.”

“No you don’t,” I quip.

“Yes, I do—my sister was anorexic. I was so jealous.” I stare. “I’m just kidding,” he says. “I joke a lot.” I freeze, caught between a general tendency toward humor appreciation and not wanting to condone a joke about an issue I take so seriously, managing only a half-smile in return. He tells his companion, “I’m going to go back there (he points), before she hits me in the head.”

A friend overhears the exchange and states the unspoken truth: “Theoretically, you could never stop writing, because people are going to give you material wherever you go.” It’s true—even as I sit here writing, there’s something more to tell. At some point, I hope to put this in print, but long after I tire of writing on this topic, there will always be another story, another joke, another conversation. . . .

Generations

The Oprah show recently focused on the body dysmorphia now common, even amongst little girls. The show featured two pre-schoolers and a teenage model, all of whom hated their appearance or took drastic measures to conform to a beauty ideal.

The first guest was a three-year-old little girl, a regular Victoria Secret catalogue reader, who throws tantrums when not allowed to wear make-up like her mom. According to her mother, the girl screams, “I hate you Mommy!” when she doesn’t feel pretty enough. Explanations for this? Her mother seems to spend quite a bit of time prepping herself when going out, applying make-up and performing multiple mirror-checks. Mother says, “I don’t recall ever being told ‘You’re beautiful,’ so I’m constantly telling her how beautiful she is.” So, why doesn’t her daughter listen to her? It seems the adage, “Do as I say, not as I do” is most illustrative here.

The second guest, a skinny four-year-old is intensely afraid she’ll become fat. How might such fear arise? Her mother insists that her daughter’s pre-school classmates called her “fat,” stating, “I honestly believe that she’s learning it from just being around other girls.” You do? Because what about, as the show later reveals, your history of anorexia? Turns out mom struggled with anorexia for years, and even now limits all food intake to servings “smaller than a cup” and exercises daily, sometimes twice a day. It’s not surprising that her daughter is restricting her portions and leading her own makeshift aerobics class in the home, is it?

The third guest is a 19-year-old model and soccer-team captain. She reports that at age seven, she couldn’t go to school because her face was “too ugly,” and today, she tends to shatter mirrors and destroy pictures of herself. She, at times, turns her destructive impulses on herself, reporting suicidal ideation and a history of cutting. After hearing from this young woman, we meet her mother, whom her daughter often overhears as saying, “I’m so ugly!” Mom and daughter, from time to time, compete in the “Who’s fatter?” game.

In all three cases, we see daughters, despite well-intentioned mothers, who internalize their self-reproach. A daughter whose mother struggles with body acceptance will likely do the same, as her mother tacitly, but forcefully, conveys that thinner is better and condemns any shape that does not conform. It is my contention that for mothers, no matter how much love you give your daughter, or how much regard you show her, if you dislike your body, your daughter will do the same.

You Should Consider This

Karen Horney, a pioneering psychoanalyst, who followed in the footsteps of Freud, spoke of the “Tyranny of the Shoulds,” the self-haunting that occurs when we compare how we are to how we think we should be. Focusing on this discrepancy results in, as you’d expect, significant distress, and the solution, according to psychologists, analytical and cognitive alike, is to avoid the use of should—not just to remove the word from our vocabulary, but to be more compassionate with ourselves and lighten up with (often) unrealistic expectations.

I should lose 10 pounds.
I should exercise for two hours today.
I shouldn’t eat that cookie.
I should stick to my diet without any exceptions.
I should be thinner than I am.

Also, beware of the relatives of should: have to, need to, want to (with sufficient angst). Why are these all so damaging? Because truth is, it’s hard to lose weight, to exercise regularly (and excessively), to restrict, to limit, and to shrink your body beyond its natural weight. And when we get caught up in the “should” (instead of the “could” or the “would like to”), we set ourselves up for disappointment and self-reproach, both of which play an integral role in sabotaging our personal goals and further unsteadying an already shaky self-regard.

Hmm. . .

I was at some friends’ house for dinner one night. On the kitchen counter, they had a baby picture of their niece, now five years old. Another guest commented on how chubby the five-year-old had been as a baby—“fat baby,” “not a cute baby,” and how “it’s a good thing she turned out cute.” Half an hour later, the same guest is talking about children’s clothing and specifically about her young daughter’s preferences. “Would you believe that she’s only six, and she already won’t wear one of her coats, because it makes her look fat? I don’t know where she gets that from.”

A Girl Can Dream

(written to the editor of Star magazine)

Dear Editor:

I am writing in regard to your recent (August 28th) feature about Nicole Ritchie, entitled, "Bare Bones!" As Pearson, Clark, and Levine note, Ms. Ritchie is grossly underweight.

My concern is that anorexia, a serious (and often lethal) physical and psychological condition is not represented properly in the article. The writers quote Christine Bybee, a "nutritionist and fitness expert" regarding Nicole's condition: "'A true anorexic looks like a walking skeleton. . . . At that point, a person needs to be hospitalized. Nicole isn't there yet."

Unfortunately, Bybee's statement is wholly untrue. First, it is impossible to judge whether someone is anorexic simply based on her appearance. A comprehensive clinical interview is necessary, and, even then, a diagnosis may be difficult if the patient is not forthcoming. Second, not all anorexics have the look of a "walking skeleton," as the diagnosis requires (amongst other criteria) that a patient weigh less than 85% than expected--how this translates into "looks" varies by individual. Finally, hospitalization can and does occur at various points along the continuum of eating-disordered symptoms and is not simply a stop-gap, life-saving measure once a patient appears to be "a walking skeleton."

I write with concern that your readers may, based on the above misinformation, understand anorexia to be less serious (or more black-and-white) than it is. Nicole Ritchie is, even by her own account, "too thin," but to label her as anorexic (or not) is questionable journalism, given the complexity of the diagnosis. Moreover, information about an eating disorder (a mental health disorder) diagnosis and treatment should come from a mental health professional, not a nutritionist or fitness expert.

I urge you to promote responsible journalism, particularly with regard to a disease as grave as anorexia, as many young women are turning to celebrity magazines for information about this condition.

Sincerely,
Drstaceyny
Licensed Psychologist (specializing in eating- and body-image concerns)

I'm Worried About Your Health

In The Diet Myth, Paul Campos discusses the “disease” of obesity as a socio-cultural construction designed to underhandedly fuel bigotry against fat, as well as to potentiate racist and ethnocentric thought. How many times have we heard, “You see, it’s not that you don’t look good—it’s just your health that I’m concerned about”? In his journalistic account of the weight-loss research enterprise (and industry), Campos debunks this myth by presenting facts exposing that (exact quote):

1) The health risks associated with increasing weight are generally small, in comparison to those associated with, for example, being a man, or poor, or African American.
2) These risks tend to disappear altogether when factors other than weight are taken into account. For instance, fat active people have half the mortality rate of thin sedentary people and the same mortality rate as thin active people.
3) There is no good evidence that significant long-term weight loss is beneficial to health, and a great deal of evidence that short-term weight loss followed by weight regain (the pattern followed by almost all dieters) is medically harmful. Indeed, frequent dieting is perhaps the single best predictor of future weight gain.
4) Despite a century-long search for a “cure” for “overweight,” we still have no idea how to make fat people thin.

It’s interesting how often the “health” card is invoked, even amongst medical and psychological professionals. Truth is, there’s really no way to evaluate people’s health based on how they look. And yet, we do it all the time. So, now what? Without the “health” argument to back us up, how should we disguise our disgust with fat?

Housekeeping

I'm 82 posts into my 100-post, daily (weekday) goal (yes, this one counts!), and I thought I'd take a moment to reflect, as well as to ask for feedback.

Starting out, I made two conscious decisions (well, at least two, let’s hope) in designing this blog. Number one, I decided I wouldn’t sell out to Google. Not because I wouldn’t like the money that would come with your every click—I would. But, you know exactly what would happen if I signed up for Ad Sense—in no time, you’d see ads on my site for diet pills, weight-loss gimmicks, and a host of other products designed to make you feel bad about yourself. Not here.

Second, I’ve purposely withheld information about my current weight or shape, as well as pictures of myself. My thinking here is that I don’t want to align myself with fat or thin, or with any other point on the body size continuum. Part of the motivation for this book is to illustrate how widespread eating problems are, and how they affect (and unite) us, big and small. This struggle belongs to all of us.

As I'm turning the final corner for my daily-post goal (after 100, I'll still post, though likely not with the same consistency), I have a couple of thoughts that I might like to explore the next several weeks. To start, I am forever grateful for your thoughtful comments. They've helped me to solidify many of my ideas, as well as to engender new ones. That said, I encourage those readers who read regularly but haven't commented to speak up--I'd love to hear from you.

Given the interesting questions that regularly come up in the comments section, I'm thinking about devoting one day a week to a Q & A process. If you'd like to ask a question, please email me directly, and I'll compile and present them once a week. Questions could be personal, general, about you, about me, about anything. . . . You know the (disclaimer) drill--what I write shouldn't subsitute for face-to-face contact with a trained professional.

I'm also considering the idea of allowing a couple of regular readers to guest-post about their experiences related to food/weight. Let me know, again, by email, if you'd like to participate. Related to this, if you like to tell your "story," please let me know if I might contact you re: "appearing" in my manuscript (with all identifying information removed, of course).

Within the month, I'll be submitting some of my work to agents (yes, now I've committed myself to a deadline!), so please let me know if you have any feedback (what you liked/haven't liked), as I pull together various posts.

Again, thank you so much for all your insights. I hope that some of the ideas presented here have been as helpful to you as you've been to me. . . .

Mixed Messages

In a Details magazine feature, entitled, “Why Fat Is Back in Hollywood,” writer Holly Millea discusses how the super-thin look is slowly being countered by a curvy, more feminine look, reminiscent of old Hollywood and pin-up stars. Millea offers Catherine Zeta-Jones, Scarlett Johansson, and Drew Barrymore as evidence. Even Rachel Weisz, Lost star Evangeline Lilly, and Mandy Moore are thrown in the mix.

But, let’s take a step back. These women are so far from “fat,” that I’m afraid they’ve landed in the wrong article. Rachel Weisz might only be described as “curvy” when with child, Evalengline Lilly is as athletic and toned as they come, and Mandy Moore is. . . Mandy Moore. Are we that skewed that these women are the only ones we can identify as “fat”? (The answer is “yes,” I’m afraid.)

Millea makes some interesting points and challenges us to confront the status-quo assumption of thinner-is-better. She asks, “Seriously, would you prefer to get a Grey’s Anatomy lesson from an hourglassed Katherine Heigl or a reedy Ellen Pompeo?” Point taken, but even here, we can’t look at their bodies without objectifying them, without bringing it back to sex. There’s no beating around the bush here:

You see that look in the faces of formerly fleshy sexpots who have morphed into pinched, prematurely aged superwaifs. What do they do for fun? Food and sex are appetites inextricably linked in the human psyche. One could speculate that for those obsessed with not eating, even the boyfriend’s salami goes the way of the bread basket.

The message? Don’t starve yourself down, not because it isn’t healthy or because it irreparably damages your psyche and your will to live or even because it sets up an (often deadly) unrealistic standard for your fans, but because it’s just (shoulders raised) not so sexy. Hit ‘em where it hurts, and, maybe, we’ll tackle some ground.

Hillea realizes the difficulty of positing a world taken over by the “lush,” “curvy,” forms of Johanssen and Zeta-Jones (now that we’re on the topic, are they really larger than a Size 6?):

Of course, it’s easy for anyone who isn’t an aspiring actress to beat the drum for weight gain. Our careers don’t depend on being a jean size smaller than the next girl. As one male studio executive who asked not to be named says, “Do we really want stars to look like the rest of us? If actresses represented the way the public really looks, the mother from Gilbert Grape would be a sex symbol.”

It seems that that’s the ultimate fear—if we accept Drew Barrymore as body-beautiful, then we’re just a couple of steps away from accepting obesity (in others and ourselves). Not to mention the fact that 500-pound Bonnie Grape is no more representative of her public constituents than Kate Bosworth, Nicole Richie, or the shrinking Keira Knightley.

I’m always interested in journalism that confronts body stereotypes, and the premise here is pure. Even the article’s subtitle, “In an industry rife with painfully thin stick figures, women with some meat on their bones are—lucky for us—rising to the top” offers a respectable purpose and heralds writing I’d like to read. But, sprinkled with not-so-fat celebrity examples, black-and-white thinking (see quote above), and an accompanying graphic (see below) that all but refutes anything said, the take-home message is confusing and elusive at best.

Transgressions

The National Eating Disorder Association’s (NEDA’s) media watchdog program, which began in 1997, targets advertising that portrays unhealthy messages about body shape and size, with the understanding that such messages may contribute to the incidence of eating disorders. According to NEDA, over 50% of the protested ad campaigns have been discontinued as the result of such advocacy.

In 2002, when I first learned of, and became involved in, the campaign, I met with female students at a local university in order to get their feedback on the ad above. The promotion, for Nutri-Grain breakfast bars, features a slim, attractive woman with two cinnamon buns affixed to her rear end. You may remember similar television ads, including one, this time whose subject was male, who wore a frosted doughnut wrapped around his middle.

Aside from the obvious untruth (cinnamon buns don’t land directly on your buns, nor doughnuts on your waist, and it’s exactly this type of thinking that encourages people to seek out widely proliferated, but highly ineffective, techniques for “spot reduction”), what struck me most about this ad, and when led to the most interesting discussion at the college, was the copy, which does away with subtlety and diplomacy and instead bodes consumers to “Respect yourself in the morning.”

Lest this be unclear, eating a Nutri-Grain breakfast bar allows you to maintain your self-respect. Eating a cinnamon bun (or two), quite obviously akin to engaging in an unplanned, unladylike, orgiastic feast the night before, does not.

It’s interesting, this juxtaposition of food and morality (sprinkled with a healthy dose of sex) that seems to repeatedly be played out in our thoughts and conversations. “I was good” or “I was bad” don’t have anything to do with characterological or behavioral transgressions, but instead with what we ate. It’s not surprising that Madison Avenue caught on, recognizing that how we rate ourselves morally, and how we feel about ourselves in general, is largely tied to what we eat. Breakfast bar or cinnamon bun? Madonna or whore? You make the call. . . .

So You Think You're Thin Enough?

Are you following So You Think You Can Dance? They’re down to the final two female dancers, and I can’t help but notice that Donyelle has about 25 pounds on Heidi. I know it’s not just me. Either the contestants themselves or some higher ups on the show notice the discrepancy, too—it’s reflected in their costume choices. While Donyelle is typically covered, often in long pants and sleeves, Heidi’s look is as skin-baring as possible. She gets to wear the sequined skirts, midriff-baring tops, and form-fitting dresses that we’ve come to associate with dancing, skating, pageantry, femininity, and. . . being thin.

When the two performed a number together, wearing two-piece, pin-striped suits, Heidi’s top cut off about four inches above Donyelle’s. It’s interesting how a weight-discrepancy wouldn’t be so obvious amongst male contestants, where costumes aren’t typically as flashy and revealing as they are for the fairer sex.

Let’s be truthful, when it comes to bodies, Heidi’s closer to the American ideal (in more ways than one). Perhaps aided by her boxy shoulders and jutting hips, her lines are angular, and her dancing seems crisp. Notwithstanding technical ability, I wonder how weight and shape will influence our national vote and if it’s possible to evaluate dance without attention to size.

(The two-hour season finale airs tomorrow night.)

Stomach Bugs

This weekend, The New York Times Magazine featured an article entitled, “Fat Factors,” suggesting that a previously unconsidered factor may be to be blame for your weight—microogranisms.

The article’s author, Robin Marantz Henig, describes recent research indicating yet another biological theory of weight—we already have about 50 “guilty” obesity genes, some of which regulate appetite, satiety cues, and activity level. But now, scientists are exploring the possibility that intestinal microbes (e.g., bacteria, fungi, etc.) may play a role in how fat you come to be. And, lest you have any lingering doubts about an uncertain future, Jeffrey Gordon, the director of the Center for Genome Sciences at Washington University, informs us: “‘Microbes colonize our body surfaces from the moment of our birth. . . . They are with us throughout our lives, and at the moment of our death they consume us.’”

According to Henig’s article, microbes (microflora) accomplish a multitude of gastro-intestinal tasks, including the production of vitamins and enzymes, as well as the facilitation of digestion. Henig writes that they “help extract calories from the food we eat and help store those calories in fat cells for later use—which gives them, in effect a role in determining whether our diets will make us fat or thin.” Thus, my 450-calorie meal may be different than yours. It’s possible that I will extract and store 400 of these calories, you only 300, based on varying levels of intestinal microbes, thus complicating the classic calories-in-versus-out method of weight-loss or -maintenance. And, the formulaic 3,500-calorie reduction requisite for a one-pound weight-loss? Again, not so rigid when microbes are involved.

The Times article details animal studies, suggesting that bacterial microflora and/or exposure to certain viruses (“infectobesity”) lead to increased incidence of obesity. In other words, catching a virus can make you fat. Correlational studies in humans seem to support this notion—those with certain viral antibodies are more likely to be obese. Viruses may lead to increases in fat-cell counts and size or may toy with the brain’s satiety center.

While data are still preliminary, researchers are already toying with antibody tests (documenting exposure to one of the implicated viruses), and as you might imagine, antiviral-drug administration looms in the horizon. What I find most interesting about this report are its psychological and sociocultural correlates. Here, we have yet another biological theory of weight (the existence of obesity genes, preceding it) and yet, we still hold strong to the belief that obesity is a psychological condition, an individual failure of will-power, conviction, and self-regard, when in fact, there are plenty of “overweight” people who eat no more than their thinner counterparts. More and more, research is debunking that myth. Henig details an interesting example discussed by Rudolph Leibel, a Columbia University obesity researcher, “. . . if you take two nonobese people of the same weight, they will require different amounts of food depending on whether or not they were once obese. . . formerly fat people need to eat less than never-fat people to maintain the exact same weight.” The possibility of a microbial factor in the incidence of obesity lends weight to the notion that losing weight may be more of an uphill battle than previously thought.

And there seems to be good reason for this. Transport overweight people back in time, and they’re likely to fare better than those who are thin. As Henig notes, the “thrifty-genotype” hypothesis of weight suggests that historically, there was an evolutionary advantage to packing on the pounds. Now, technologically advanced beyond famine and draught, there’s no such need for biological stores, but let’s not underestimate the power of context—put obese people in another time and another place, and they’re royalty, exalted for their natural inclination toward getting fat and “keeping it on.” They survive, while the skinny perish, somehow unable (or not having the discipline) to eat enough.