Everything, everything has to be about weight.
I’m flipping through Zagat’s in search of a restaurant I’m soon to visit. The description reads:
“Reliable Carribean bites are washed down with perfect mojitos at this affordable, feisty (read: loud) SoHo scene; the lounge-like step-out-onto-the-beach décor furthers the fun vibe, as do the cute, pencil-thin staffers, even though service can be iffy.”
Pencil-thin staffers. In New York? You’re kidding me. Having now dined at said restaurant, I can say, without hesitation, that my actual experience of the establishment’s “fun vibe” was in direct proportion to the pencil-thinness of the waitstaff. Iffy service? Child’s play. . . as long as the servers are skinny.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Stories: Part I
With permission. . .
INTRODUCTION
I'm 43, 5'8", 180 pounds. My first memories of feeling fat come from about age 6. I was always in the top area of the growth percentiles for weight and height, and I remember the doctor lecturing my mom about how I was "going to be fat" if she didn't "do something." The alcohol smell of the exam room, the lights bright on the doctor's white coat, his pointing, hairy finger. Pointing at me. The frown on my mom's face. The feeling that I'd done something awful to her on purpose.
Since then, I've felt people's judging eyes on me: lonely, dumb, lazy, no control over her eating, spends whole nights on the couch in front of the TV with a pint of Ben & Jerry's.
None of that is true.
Lonely: No. Outgoing. I have an easy time making friends, which is how I survived school as The Fat Kid. In an 8-year relationship with a great guy (after divorcing a not-so-great guy; married 11 years that time).
Dumb: No. Last IQ test 153; graduated from college Magna Cum Laude.
Lazy: Lazy people do not graduate Magna Cum Laude. Nor do they rise at 5:00am on weekdays so they can go to the gym. Also, I don't own a car, so I carry all my own groceries, walk for errands, and so forth.
No control over eating: I haven't eaten beef, pork, or chicken since 1980. I eat very few processed foods, and snack cakes, etc leave me absolutely cold (what exactly *is* Cool Whip made of?).
Couch, TV, B&J: We have a couch. But we don't have a TV. And I'm allergic to dairy (actually allergic, not lactose-intolerant) so I've never even had Ben & Jerry's ice cream.
Non-fat people simply don't get it. There isn't one set of circumstances that makes all fat people fat.
WHAT HAPPENED
So what are my circumstances? Simply put, anorexia. It started in my teens. It wasn't a wish to have a certain body size and shape, although, like other girls, I did have those wishes. The anorexia went deeper. My logic was that perfect people don't eat too much; therefore, someone who never eats anything is the most perfect of all.
Not eating at all feels great. It's so exciting--I'm free! Free of stupid food! Hurray! Of course, my body disagrees. When I was a teenager I lived on about 300-500 calories a day. I skipped breakfast and lunch, ate a tiny snack after school and then some dinner but not very much.
I was praised to the skies for this behavior. Friends, parents, teachers--they were all thrilled that I finally "had control" over my eating habits. Of course the crash came. I couldn't keep that up forever, I gained a little weight, and presto, I was The Fat Kid again.
I should add here that I always ate "healthy" food, simply because it's what I prefer. My mom cooked everything. In the late 70s we all read Diet for a Small Planet and by 1980 I was a non-strict vegetarian, which I still am today. I'm a total food snob; I don't like chips or snack cakes or the other stuff fat people are supposed to like. When I went on Weight Watchers in 2002 (more about that later) I had to ask somebody what "Little Debbies" were. Of course, I won't say no to vegan flourless chocolate cake, so I'm not claiming superiority here--just pointing out yet another way in which the "fat person" stereotype is a lie.
I hovered around 180 for the rest of my teen years. Then I got married and gained a bunch more, up to about 220. I stayed there until I discovered exercise at 27. I'd always hated gym class, but it turned out I was a really good weightlifter. If you think about it, it makes sense. There are no weedy aristocrats anywhere in my family. I come from about ten generations of farmers. Of course I'm good at lifting weights. I was built to carry buckets of water, sheaves of wheat, newborn calves.
Exercise made me lose the excess, and without changing my eating habits I got down to about 180 again. Then I started college. I was 30.
I didn't go before because I couldn't afford it; I'd become an indifferent student in the later years of high school (probably thanks to my low blood sugar) and Ronald Reagan's changes to student loans basically torpedoed my chances. I left home early, longing for independence, and worked various drudge jobs. But after I got a divorce I decided it was now or never.
School was a huge stress. At the end of the first day, I stopped eating, like I had in high school. My clothes fell off me, which was a problem because I was totally broke. And again, the crash came about a year later--there I was, 180 again.
After graduation I went to work at a very successful dot-com enterprise. I made a lot of money, but 60 hours was a "short week." I was in a chair, in front of a computer, most of the time. I'd stopped exercising--when would I go to the gym? My entire life was dominated by the thought that I should be at work.
Three and a half years later, I got laid off (2001). I weighed 252 pounds. The 72 pounds was mostly huge dinners out, which I could afford. I ate at least one huge meal out every day, and most days it was more than one.
WHAT I DID ABOUT IT
So there I was--too fat to do anything. I'm an energetic person and it was driving me crazy. I couldn't go take a walk; it made my feet hurt too much. I could barely go to the grocery store. I was so out of shape, but I had boundless energy. I was slowly going crazy.
I hired a personal trainer who helped me get back into exercising again. I haven't stopped since. Some people are scared of being fat because they'll look bad, but at this point, I'm scared of being that out of shape again. I felt trapped.
This time, not that much weight came off, and I still felt trapped, although less trapped. So in 2002 I joined Weight Watchers online. It worked; I got down to 168. Then my "points target" changed and that was the tipping point. My food was too limited. A voice in my head told me, "You're a bad person!" every time I ate something. I hated that little voice. I was afraid of never being able to eat again. I started defying the diet--and for all WW says they're a lifestyle change and not a diet, they're wrong. Eating only so much per day, no matter what you want or need, is a DIET. Limiting food is A DIET. Weight Watchers might be a great diet, and a diet that works, BUT IT IS A DIET.
Online members don't have to go to meetings. When I noticed my stall in weight loss, I asked for help on the message boards. "Journal everything," people said. One lady said she'd decided she would have to "give up" cream and sugar in her coffee. "I just made the decision that I really should limit myself. It's a better decision." Those were the kinds of decisions I'd have to make. I felt trapped again, but in a different way this time.
THE REALIZATION
Nickel-and-diming food is humiliating. It says, "You're too stupid to do this properly so you're going to be punished. You may have only X amount per day and you may not have any small things that you enjoy." It's also attractive--if you can only get yourself to swallow that line of bull, you can live up to the limitations you stick on yourself. Then you're a success. If you refuse to believe that you are a "bad person who needs punishment," then you're a failure. Catch-22.
Being in that "failure" state is depressing, even though you know you should be angry. It's horrible to see other people go through ridiculous self-limitation crap and lose weight. An overachieving anorexic type like me can't stand it, even though I know they'll gain it back the minute they stop hating themselves. Birthdays at work are awful. There's a cake, and people moan, groan, bitch about how they "shouldn't" have any cake. Or they sit off to one side and brag about how they're not having any cake because they shouldn't.
Last time I watched something that was funny and not funny at the same time. A woman moaned and groaned about cake. Then she took some cake, but she scraped the frosting off. Then she ate the frosting anyway about two minutes later. She kept moaning and groaning the whole time, as if the cake were physically hurting her.
The solution is so simple. I want to slap them all. I want to stand on the table and scream, "If you want cake, take some and enjoy it! If you aren't going to enjoy it then FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THE GODS, DON'T HAVE ANY!"
Maybe it's easy for me, because there are only a few kinds of cake that I like enough to eat and enjoy; I skip the kinds I don't like that much without regret. But I never tell the whole office about how I don't really like that kind of cake and it isn't worth the however-many calories when I have stuff I like better at home. I just wish they'd eat some or not eat some and keep quiet.
For about two years, I refrained from nickel-and-diming myself. I gained 12 pounds. All day long, every day, I played a tape in my head: You are a failure. You are fat. You are huge. And that alternated with a tape that said, why don't you start making a few positive changes. If you just skip a few things you'll be smaller than you are now. If you just, if you just...
And then one day a few months ago, I decided to make a truly positive change. The tapes were killing me. I turned both of them off. I went to Trader Joe's and bought cookies and candy--a LOT of cookies and candy. I bought a huge jar of peanut butter, an infamous "trigger food." That's a food that supposedly starts a binge. Lots of talk about those at Weight Watchers.
But I didn't binge, and now I know why: I'm not a binge eater unless I'm defying a diet. Nor am I an "emotional eater," stuffing down feelings with food: I'm an extrovert. I get my feelings out there right away; hanging onto them feels horrible.
No. I eat BECAUSE I CAN. Because there's nobody bothering me about what I'm eating, and I get back at those people who bothered me by saying "Look at me! I'm eating and there isn't ONE GODS-BE-DAMNED THING you can do about it, you big stupid jerks!" I eat to negate everything those people have said to me: mom, doctors, gym teachers, "concerned" friends. When I tried to argue with them to their faces, or call them on their insulting, humiliating behavior, they'd say they loved me (Mom) or were concerned about me (everyone else) and that's why they were doing it. I liked them; I trusted them; I couldn't say anything back that didn't sound like the all-encompassing "denial," which generates further self-righteousness disguised as pity disguised as "love" and "concern."
I was stuck. But not anymore.
THE FUTURE
This time, I filled the house with so-called binge food. But I didn't binge, because I have decided, finally, that what I eat isn't any of their business. I'm tired of playing the game. I'm making my own decisions, for myself, because I am a grownup and I like myself and I trust myself. I AM good enough--what I eat or don't eat doesn't have anything to do with that. I am smart enough to make my own decisions, as I always have been but I just couldn't see it because people I loved and trusted and respected kept telling me I couldn't control myself. But I can, I can, the minute they stop looking over my shoulder.
I'm done playing.
I like peanut butter. It took a few weeks to finish the jar, and then I bought another. I've barely touched the candy and stuff. I know that this time, I'm free. I might fall back into my old thinking, but at least I know what the trouble is. So no more crutches, no more crap. Just me.
INTRODUCTION
I'm 43, 5'8", 180 pounds. My first memories of feeling fat come from about age 6. I was always in the top area of the growth percentiles for weight and height, and I remember the doctor lecturing my mom about how I was "going to be fat" if she didn't "do something." The alcohol smell of the exam room, the lights bright on the doctor's white coat, his pointing, hairy finger. Pointing at me. The frown on my mom's face. The feeling that I'd done something awful to her on purpose.
Since then, I've felt people's judging eyes on me: lonely, dumb, lazy, no control over her eating, spends whole nights on the couch in front of the TV with a pint of Ben & Jerry's.
None of that is true.
Lonely: No. Outgoing. I have an easy time making friends, which is how I survived school as The Fat Kid. In an 8-year relationship with a great guy (after divorcing a not-so-great guy; married 11 years that time).
Dumb: No. Last IQ test 153; graduated from college Magna Cum Laude.
Lazy: Lazy people do not graduate Magna Cum Laude. Nor do they rise at 5:00am on weekdays so they can go to the gym. Also, I don't own a car, so I carry all my own groceries, walk for errands, and so forth.
No control over eating: I haven't eaten beef, pork, or chicken since 1980. I eat very few processed foods, and snack cakes, etc leave me absolutely cold (what exactly *is* Cool Whip made of?).
Couch, TV, B&J: We have a couch. But we don't have a TV. And I'm allergic to dairy (actually allergic, not lactose-intolerant) so I've never even had Ben & Jerry's ice cream.
Non-fat people simply don't get it. There isn't one set of circumstances that makes all fat people fat.
WHAT HAPPENED
So what are my circumstances? Simply put, anorexia. It started in my teens. It wasn't a wish to have a certain body size and shape, although, like other girls, I did have those wishes. The anorexia went deeper. My logic was that perfect people don't eat too much; therefore, someone who never eats anything is the most perfect of all.
Not eating at all feels great. It's so exciting--I'm free! Free of stupid food! Hurray! Of course, my body disagrees. When I was a teenager I lived on about 300-500 calories a day. I skipped breakfast and lunch, ate a tiny snack after school and then some dinner but not very much.
I was praised to the skies for this behavior. Friends, parents, teachers--they were all thrilled that I finally "had control" over my eating habits. Of course the crash came. I couldn't keep that up forever, I gained a little weight, and presto, I was The Fat Kid again.
I should add here that I always ate "healthy" food, simply because it's what I prefer. My mom cooked everything. In the late 70s we all read Diet for a Small Planet and by 1980 I was a non-strict vegetarian, which I still am today. I'm a total food snob; I don't like chips or snack cakes or the other stuff fat people are supposed to like. When I went on Weight Watchers in 2002 (more about that later) I had to ask somebody what "Little Debbies" were. Of course, I won't say no to vegan flourless chocolate cake, so I'm not claiming superiority here--just pointing out yet another way in which the "fat person" stereotype is a lie.
I hovered around 180 for the rest of my teen years. Then I got married and gained a bunch more, up to about 220. I stayed there until I discovered exercise at 27. I'd always hated gym class, but it turned out I was a really good weightlifter. If you think about it, it makes sense. There are no weedy aristocrats anywhere in my family. I come from about ten generations of farmers. Of course I'm good at lifting weights. I was built to carry buckets of water, sheaves of wheat, newborn calves.
Exercise made me lose the excess, and without changing my eating habits I got down to about 180 again. Then I started college. I was 30.
I didn't go before because I couldn't afford it; I'd become an indifferent student in the later years of high school (probably thanks to my low blood sugar) and Ronald Reagan's changes to student loans basically torpedoed my chances. I left home early, longing for independence, and worked various drudge jobs. But after I got a divorce I decided it was now or never.
School was a huge stress. At the end of the first day, I stopped eating, like I had in high school. My clothes fell off me, which was a problem because I was totally broke. And again, the crash came about a year later--there I was, 180 again.
After graduation I went to work at a very successful dot-com enterprise. I made a lot of money, but 60 hours was a "short week." I was in a chair, in front of a computer, most of the time. I'd stopped exercising--when would I go to the gym? My entire life was dominated by the thought that I should be at work.
Three and a half years later, I got laid off (2001). I weighed 252 pounds. The 72 pounds was mostly huge dinners out, which I could afford. I ate at least one huge meal out every day, and most days it was more than one.
WHAT I DID ABOUT IT
So there I was--too fat to do anything. I'm an energetic person and it was driving me crazy. I couldn't go take a walk; it made my feet hurt too much. I could barely go to the grocery store. I was so out of shape, but I had boundless energy. I was slowly going crazy.
I hired a personal trainer who helped me get back into exercising again. I haven't stopped since. Some people are scared of being fat because they'll look bad, but at this point, I'm scared of being that out of shape again. I felt trapped.
This time, not that much weight came off, and I still felt trapped, although less trapped. So in 2002 I joined Weight Watchers online. It worked; I got down to 168. Then my "points target" changed and that was the tipping point. My food was too limited. A voice in my head told me, "You're a bad person!" every time I ate something. I hated that little voice. I was afraid of never being able to eat again. I started defying the diet--and for all WW says they're a lifestyle change and not a diet, they're wrong. Eating only so much per day, no matter what you want or need, is a DIET. Limiting food is A DIET. Weight Watchers might be a great diet, and a diet that works, BUT IT IS A DIET.
Online members don't have to go to meetings. When I noticed my stall in weight loss, I asked for help on the message boards. "Journal everything," people said. One lady said she'd decided she would have to "give up" cream and sugar in her coffee. "I just made the decision that I really should limit myself. It's a better decision." Those were the kinds of decisions I'd have to make. I felt trapped again, but in a different way this time.
THE REALIZATION
Nickel-and-diming food is humiliating. It says, "You're too stupid to do this properly so you're going to be punished. You may have only X amount per day and you may not have any small things that you enjoy." It's also attractive--if you can only get yourself to swallow that line of bull, you can live up to the limitations you stick on yourself. Then you're a success. If you refuse to believe that you are a "bad person who needs punishment," then you're a failure. Catch-22.
Being in that "failure" state is depressing, even though you know you should be angry. It's horrible to see other people go through ridiculous self-limitation crap and lose weight. An overachieving anorexic type like me can't stand it, even though I know they'll gain it back the minute they stop hating themselves. Birthdays at work are awful. There's a cake, and people moan, groan, bitch about how they "shouldn't" have any cake. Or they sit off to one side and brag about how they're not having any cake because they shouldn't.
Last time I watched something that was funny and not funny at the same time. A woman moaned and groaned about cake. Then she took some cake, but she scraped the frosting off. Then she ate the frosting anyway about two minutes later. She kept moaning and groaning the whole time, as if the cake were physically hurting her.
The solution is so simple. I want to slap them all. I want to stand on the table and scream, "If you want cake, take some and enjoy it! If you aren't going to enjoy it then FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THE GODS, DON'T HAVE ANY!"
Maybe it's easy for me, because there are only a few kinds of cake that I like enough to eat and enjoy; I skip the kinds I don't like that much without regret. But I never tell the whole office about how I don't really like that kind of cake and it isn't worth the however-many calories when I have stuff I like better at home. I just wish they'd eat some or not eat some and keep quiet.
For about two years, I refrained from nickel-and-diming myself. I gained 12 pounds. All day long, every day, I played a tape in my head: You are a failure. You are fat. You are huge. And that alternated with a tape that said, why don't you start making a few positive changes. If you just skip a few things you'll be smaller than you are now. If you just, if you just...
And then one day a few months ago, I decided to make a truly positive change. The tapes were killing me. I turned both of them off. I went to Trader Joe's and bought cookies and candy--a LOT of cookies and candy. I bought a huge jar of peanut butter, an infamous "trigger food." That's a food that supposedly starts a binge. Lots of talk about those at Weight Watchers.
But I didn't binge, and now I know why: I'm not a binge eater unless I'm defying a diet. Nor am I an "emotional eater," stuffing down feelings with food: I'm an extrovert. I get my feelings out there right away; hanging onto them feels horrible.
No. I eat BECAUSE I CAN. Because there's nobody bothering me about what I'm eating, and I get back at those people who bothered me by saying "Look at me! I'm eating and there isn't ONE GODS-BE-DAMNED THING you can do about it, you big stupid jerks!" I eat to negate everything those people have said to me: mom, doctors, gym teachers, "concerned" friends. When I tried to argue with them to their faces, or call them on their insulting, humiliating behavior, they'd say they loved me (Mom) or were concerned about me (everyone else) and that's why they were doing it. I liked them; I trusted them; I couldn't say anything back that didn't sound like the all-encompassing "denial," which generates further self-righteousness disguised as pity disguised as "love" and "concern."
I was stuck. But not anymore.
THE FUTURE
This time, I filled the house with so-called binge food. But I didn't binge, because I have decided, finally, that what I eat isn't any of their business. I'm tired of playing the game. I'm making my own decisions, for myself, because I am a grownup and I like myself and I trust myself. I AM good enough--what I eat or don't eat doesn't have anything to do with that. I am smart enough to make my own decisions, as I always have been but I just couldn't see it because people I loved and trusted and respected kept telling me I couldn't control myself. But I can, I can, the minute they stop looking over my shoulder.
I'm done playing.
I like peanut butter. It took a few weeks to finish the jar, and then I bought another. I've barely touched the candy and stuff. I know that this time, I'm free. I might fall back into my old thinking, but at least I know what the trouble is. So no more crutches, no more crap. Just me.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
EWHAED Salutes Dove
See Dove's website for an interesting look at the transformation from girl-next-door to billboard-ready.
And, if you haven't seen this commercial already, it's a good one.
And, if you haven't seen this commercial already, it's a good one.
Fashion Forward

In possibly the most drastic example yet of bringing the mountain to Mohammed, there appears to be a new trend in fashion (as reported by New York’s Metro newspaper)—women are having plastic surgery in order to wear the latest styles. As reporter Amber Ray notes, “skinny jeans are for skinny thighs,” and if you weren’t born with stick-thin gams, then after a quick procedure (en route to Bergdorf’s?), you, too, a la Audrey Hepburn, can bop around to “Back in Black” in the dark, tapered jeans introduced to the masses by The Gap.
The article quotes Dr. George Lefkovits: “‘What good is it to buy the latest designer pants if you still have the same body?’” It used to be that we chose clothing that flattered our physiques. In fact, almost every month, one fashion magazine or another will tell you what to choose—the perfect jeans (or swimsuit or dress) for your shape. Are you an apple or pear? Is your bust too big or too small? Legs too long or too short? Short-waisted? Hippy? Boyish? What is wrong with you? Because whatever it is, there’s likely an article of clothing that can obscure it. But now, the tide has changed, and it’s our bodies that are malleable in lieu of our wardrobe choices.
Still, Lefkovits argues that the ultimate goal of these procedures is not fashion-readiness, but creating a proportionate shape: “‘Regardless of what the fashion may be today or tomorrow, the body still has to be proportionate. So however fashion changes, the body will be ready for it.’” The mind (and the soul) may need some time to catch up. . . .
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The Thing About Research: Engendering Some Healthy Paranoia
People love to cite research. Take these fictitious examples: “This study showed that 80% of participants lost 10 or more pounds after taking these pills for one month.” “Another study showed that eating chocolate daily can lead to a long and painful death.” “Some research suggests that if you ingest fewer than 500 calories per day, you’ll live past 100.”
Let’s take a look at a real example: An AOL news item revealed recently that approximately 42% of French people (older than 15) have a “weight problem.” To start, the study was conducted by ObEpi-Roche, defined as a “drugs group” that “makes weight loss products,” such as Xenical. Hmm. . . think they might have a vested interest in showing exactly how fat the French are? How about the survey’s co-sponsors: Sanofi-Aventis and Abott Laboratoties (the manufactures of diet drugs Acomplia and Meridia, respectively)? The AOL article states that, “Campaigns were launched in France last year warning of the health dangers linked to obesity. . . .” It's always important to understand who is funding (either directly or indirectly) the research on obesity. In The Diet Myth, Paul Campos reports that many studies on obesity are conducted by physicians and weight-loss clinics intimately tied to the diet industry. By definition, this obfuscates the possibility of unbiased (read: ethical) research.
On August 27th, 2006, NBC exposed a similar problem in the cancer research arena. They revealed how cancer studies are often funded by pharmaceutical companies and that the drug companies play a large role in the research, often choosing what results will be reported and even writing the papers “authored” by scientists. That is, the researcher conducting the study doesn’t even write up the results (yet, his/her name is used for authorship). I’m concerned that researchers would allow ghost-writers to publish their results—as part of the American Psychological Association’s ethics code, for instance, I’m accountable to standards of practice that obligate me to, along with not publishing research that isn’t mine, avoid having sex with my patients! These are pretty big things.
Furthermore, many studies run multiple analyses as part of the research—in this way, researchers can get creative and choose to publish the results that support their hypotheses. . . and their products. As any amateur statistician can tell you, statistics are more an art than a science, and if you look hard enough (and run enough analyses), you’re bound to find something you hoped to see.
Next point: the study used BMI’s in order to define people as overweight or obese. Recent research has confirmed that the BMI is not an accurate and reliable indicator of weight-related health concerns. Should we still be using it as a measure? What measures do researchers employ in a study, and do instruments show adequate psychometric properties (i.e., are they valid and reliable)?
The informed consumer of research should consider other factors as well, when evaluating study claims. 1) How many participants were in the study? Generally, the more the better. Was it a diverse sample? Did the sample represent you? 2) Were all data used, and if not, how can we explain why certain data were tossed? 3) What types of statistical techniques were used? I won’t bore you here, but techniques can vary in their statistical power. 4) In a true experiment, were the participants and the researcher aware of the experimental hypotheses? If so, that may influence (and artificially inflate) the results. 5) How about that sneaky fellow, the placebo effect? 6) What other factors may contribute to what seems like a causal relationship described by study results? For example, let’s say one product (a diet pill) advertises itself to be proven effective for weight-loss in 90% of all patients. Let’s also say that taking said pill makes you really tired and you end up sleeping significantly more each night. Can we really say that the pill caused weight-loss? Or, did it maybe promote sleep, which on its own would have reduced food intake? Ever notice that (barring the Ambien-binge reports) you kind of eat less when you’re asleep? Insufficient sleep is also linked to disruptions in hunger hormones, such as leptin and ghrelin. Or, let’s look at happiness and exercise. If we find that people who exercise daily are happier, can we say that exercise leads to happiness? Not really. Maybe happy people are simply more inclined to hit the gym. 7) Where was the research published? Peer-review journals are best. Even research that’s really, really bad can be published in a sub-standard publication for a fee.
All kinds of factors need to be considered when evaluating weight-loss research. Unfortunately, the scientific value of studies is often obscured by the emotionality, funds, and media involved. Reading, and consequently citing, a study at face value is often not enough.
Let’s take a look at a real example: An AOL news item revealed recently that approximately 42% of French people (older than 15) have a “weight problem.” To start, the study was conducted by ObEpi-Roche, defined as a “drugs group” that “makes weight loss products,” such as Xenical. Hmm. . . think they might have a vested interest in showing exactly how fat the French are? How about the survey’s co-sponsors: Sanofi-Aventis and Abott Laboratoties (the manufactures of diet drugs Acomplia and Meridia, respectively)? The AOL article states that, “Campaigns were launched in France last year warning of the health dangers linked to obesity. . . .” It's always important to understand who is funding (either directly or indirectly) the research on obesity. In The Diet Myth, Paul Campos reports that many studies on obesity are conducted by physicians and weight-loss clinics intimately tied to the diet industry. By definition, this obfuscates the possibility of unbiased (read: ethical) research.
On August 27th, 2006, NBC exposed a similar problem in the cancer research arena. They revealed how cancer studies are often funded by pharmaceutical companies and that the drug companies play a large role in the research, often choosing what results will be reported and even writing the papers “authored” by scientists. That is, the researcher conducting the study doesn’t even write up the results (yet, his/her name is used for authorship). I’m concerned that researchers would allow ghost-writers to publish their results—as part of the American Psychological Association’s ethics code, for instance, I’m accountable to standards of practice that obligate me to, along with not publishing research that isn’t mine, avoid having sex with my patients! These are pretty big things.
Furthermore, many studies run multiple analyses as part of the research—in this way, researchers can get creative and choose to publish the results that support their hypotheses. . . and their products. As any amateur statistician can tell you, statistics are more an art than a science, and if you look hard enough (and run enough analyses), you’re bound to find something you hoped to see.
Next point: the study used BMI’s in order to define people as overweight or obese. Recent research has confirmed that the BMI is not an accurate and reliable indicator of weight-related health concerns. Should we still be using it as a measure? What measures do researchers employ in a study, and do instruments show adequate psychometric properties (i.e., are they valid and reliable)?
The informed consumer of research should consider other factors as well, when evaluating study claims. 1) How many participants were in the study? Generally, the more the better. Was it a diverse sample? Did the sample represent you? 2) Were all data used, and if not, how can we explain why certain data were tossed? 3) What types of statistical techniques were used? I won’t bore you here, but techniques can vary in their statistical power. 4) In a true experiment, were the participants and the researcher aware of the experimental hypotheses? If so, that may influence (and artificially inflate) the results. 5) How about that sneaky fellow, the placebo effect? 6) What other factors may contribute to what seems like a causal relationship described by study results? For example, let’s say one product (a diet pill) advertises itself to be proven effective for weight-loss in 90% of all patients. Let’s also say that taking said pill makes you really tired and you end up sleeping significantly more each night. Can we really say that the pill caused weight-loss? Or, did it maybe promote sleep, which on its own would have reduced food intake? Ever notice that (barring the Ambien-binge reports) you kind of eat less when you’re asleep? Insufficient sleep is also linked to disruptions in hunger hormones, such as leptin and ghrelin. Or, let’s look at happiness and exercise. If we find that people who exercise daily are happier, can we say that exercise leads to happiness? Not really. Maybe happy people are simply more inclined to hit the gym. 7) Where was the research published? Peer-review journals are best. Even research that’s really, really bad can be published in a sub-standard publication for a fee.
All kinds of factors need to be considered when evaluating weight-loss research. Unfortunately, the scientific value of studies is often obscured by the emotionality, funds, and media involved. Reading, and consequently citing, a study at face value is often not enough.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Velvet Aboveground
By now, you’ve probably heard about Velvet D'Amour, a 39-year-old model and actress who took Paris Fashion Week by storm. As part of his 30-year anniversary show, designer Jean-Paul Gaultier offered his unique spin on the recent Size-0 controversy in Spain (and in New York, where fall fashion week models were anecdotally judged to be more emaciated than ever before) by casting Velvet in his show. While the rest of his models donned workout gear (sweats, hoodies, etc.), Velvet, among a roaring crowd, pranced down the catwalk in a satin corset and negligee. None of this is really surprising, unless you’ve also heard about Velvet’s, um, weight. Reports indicate that voluptuous Velvet is 5’8”, weighs 291 pounds, and wears a Size 20 (see below). Velvet is decidedly plus-size.
By today’s standards, a plus-size model is defined as one who wears a dress size of 14 or higher (irony aficionados take note: that’s the average dress size of women in America). Emma Melissa Aronson is described as the first (barely) plus-sized model to gain widespread appeal. Really? Can you picture her? Funny thing about Emma—50% chance says she’s your size or smaller. But now, everyone seems to have a mental image of Velvet.
The model herself offers some perspective on the hoopla surrounding her recent job—Velvet’s quoted as saying: “If you tell me somebody's too thin, if you tell me somebody's too fat, you're still being prejudiced. The point is diversity.” That might not dampen the requisite backlash from those who haven’t gotten the point. In a New York Post article, Velvet is described as a “massive model” wearing a “barrel-sized corset and enough lace to outfit the entire Moulin Rouge.” A caption states: “The colossal catwalker at Jean Paul Gaultier’s Paris show looks as if she could swallow whole the stick-figure model [pictured next to her.]” Even removing the fat-is-bad lens from the equation, it’s still pretty far from praise. Hopefully, Velvet’s thick-skinned.
No one’s ever accused Gaultier of being subtle, but has he crossed the line, going overboard for publicity’s sake? Is Gaultier’s decision to use Velvet revolutionary, a pendulum-swinging act away from the disappearing model-star, or is she just the latest pawn in our global size wars?
By today’s standards, a plus-size model is defined as one who wears a dress size of 14 or higher (irony aficionados take note: that’s the average dress size of women in America). Emma Melissa Aronson is described as the first (barely) plus-sized model to gain widespread appeal. Really? Can you picture her? Funny thing about Emma—50% chance says she’s your size or smaller. But now, everyone seems to have a mental image of Velvet.
The model herself offers some perspective on the hoopla surrounding her recent job—Velvet’s quoted as saying: “If you tell me somebody's too thin, if you tell me somebody's too fat, you're still being prejudiced. The point is diversity.” That might not dampen the requisite backlash from those who haven’t gotten the point. In a New York Post article, Velvet is described as a “massive model” wearing a “barrel-sized corset and enough lace to outfit the entire Moulin Rouge.” A caption states: “The colossal catwalker at Jean Paul Gaultier’s Paris show looks as if she could swallow whole the stick-figure model [pictured next to her.]” Even removing the fat-is-bad lens from the equation, it’s still pretty far from praise. Hopefully, Velvet’s thick-skinned.
No one’s ever accused Gaultier of being subtle, but has he crossed the line, going overboard for publicity’s sake? Is Gaultier’s decision to use Velvet revolutionary, a pendulum-swinging act away from the disappearing model-star, or is she just the latest pawn in our global size wars?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
The War on Fat

New York City: The Big Apple. Land of opportunity. Food, everywhere you look. Come December, the city’s restaurant menu may be partially revamped. Last week, health department officials proposed a new code that would force the city’s 20,000 restaurants to limit their use of trans fats, the hydrogenated oils found in French fries, pies, and other processed goods. Establishments, including the city’s umpteen McDonald’s, would have to switch to oils and shortenings that have fewer than .5 grams of trans fat per serving.
Why the proposal? Artery-clogging trans-fats have been linked to heart disease. "New Yorkers are consuming a hazardous, artificial substance without their knowledge or consent," says Health Commissioner, Thomas Frieden. Earlier this year, the FDA began requiring food manufactures to list trans fat content on product labels. Now, New York City restaurateurs are up in arms, arguing that such a ban would affect the taste of menu items and would also drive up costs. New York, which banned smoking in restaurants in 2003, would be the first city to attack trans fats, though Chicago may soon follow suit.
Thoughts?
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
From the Mailbag
Hello Dr. Stacey,
While reading your blog EDNOS, I began to think about the roots of thin body expectations for women. Where did it come from? When and how did it evolve? When was it decided that thinner looked better? Certainly this is a phenomenon that has been around a relatively short amount of time, judging from photos and portraits of women considered beautiful over a hundred years ago. Perhaps you addressed this in earlier posts. I will peruse...
Also, what other cultures are so wrapped up in this obsession? Are eating disorders cross-cultural? What do eating disorders look like in other parts of the world? Do they only exist in developing nations? Of course, many parts of the world do not have enough food and don't have the luxury.
Sometimes I feel incredibly guilty and disgusting for having an eating disorder when I realize so many people don't have enough food to sustain their health. How dare I not eat healthy when others don't even have that choice. I am filled with self and culture-loathing. But then I realize that this thinking, while true, doesn't help me or anyone else. Self-love. Self-love. Self-love.
Thanks for your BLOG and thanks for reading,
Shelley
“Thinner is better” is a relatively new phenomenon, as we see from artwork and archival data. Looking at the sizes of models, movie stars, Miss America contestants, and even Playboy centerfolds, we see pretty sharp decreases in weight during the second half of the 20th century. Even our mannequins have shrunk—here’s some information I found: In 1950, the hip measurement for store mannequins was 34 inches, reflecting the size of the average woman at the time. Forty years later, when heroic chic descended on the catwalk, the average hip measurement for real women climbed to 37 inches, while mannequins’ hips shrunk to 31 inches. If these mannequins were real, they (along with Barbie, who if her measurements were extrapolated to “real” size, would be 6 feet and 101 pounds) would be amenorrheic. So, as real women have grown, our standards have gotten smaller, and as such, the frequency of dieting and eating disorders has increased.
To answer your second question, eating disorders are cross-cultural. Eating disorder inventories have been translated into countless languages and what we see are many studies documenting disorders among, for example, people of various cultures living in Western countries, as well as in women living around the world. That said, what’s interesting to note is that while women around the world may struggle with disordered eating, the relative incidence may vary, particularly when you take into account the culture’s exposure to Western ideals (see above). Some studies, for instance, show that when developing nations are introduced to Western media (i.e., they first get television access), the incidence of eating disorders increases. Anyone who has watched a couple of hours of Western-influenced television may understand why, both from the programming and commercials. From this, one can argue that eating disorders, to some extent, are culture-bound phenomena. Even with exposure to Western media, however, there is usually an accompanying predisposition—in Western countries, not everyone develops an eating disorder (with the same exposure), so a combination of variables is likely present. This describes what we call the diathesis-stress model—the diathesis is some sort of genetic, biological, or psychological disposition and the stress could be exposure to media, family dynamics, etc.
True, plenty of people around the world don’t have sufficient access to food. David Landes, author and professor of economics and history writes: “This world is divided roughly into three kinds of nations: those that spend lots of money to keep their weight down; those whose people eat to live; and those whose people don't know where their next meal is coming from.” While this provides some perspective, I’m not sure, as you indicate that it’s helpful to compare your struggle with others’, as that leads to greater self-reproach (which can fuel the problem). There will always be someone who suffers more than you—what matters, from my perspective, is that we do what we can to understand and support ourselves and that, if we’re so inclined, we reach out to others with fewer resources.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Magazine Article
See here for an interesting article on celebrities and eating/body image, courtesy of People magazine.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Irony
Toward the end of World War II, a biologist by the name of Dr. Ancel Keys set out to determine some of the physiological and psychological effects of restricted food intake in what was known as “the Minnesota starvation study.” The motive, it seems, was to understand the mechanisms of starvation, in order to more adequately handle potential post-war, European famine. The study participants were 36 physically and psychologically healthy men, conscientious objectors to the war, who volunteered to participate in a diet-regimen that cut their normal caloric intake roughly in half for a period of six months. What followed was an unprecedented look into the science and psychology of malnutrition. (One participant, Lester Glick, chronicles some of his experiences here.)
As any observer of the Jewish holiday, Yom Kippur, or the Muslim period of Ramadan may tell you, fasting is a unique psychophysiological state, in which food becomes a primary focus. While religious or spiritual matters may be intended to take center stage, when told to not think about a white horse (or White Castle burger, as the case may be), that’s exactly what we can’t seem to do. Fasters may overindulge the night before, as they “stock up” for the fast, may similarly overindulge post-fast, and often report spending a great deal of time during the fast thinking about food, their hunger, and when they’ll eat again. From a dieting perspective, it’s likely that in the end, they’ve consumed more food than they would have without the fast, with the additional problem of having toyed (albeit briefly) with their metabolism.
In the Minnesota study, now captured by Todd Tucker in the new book, The Great Starvation Experiment, what we saw was a compromised humanity (and throwback to animal times), resulting from food restriction. As participants lost weight, and essentially began to starve, not only did they become incredibly and solely focused on food, but their hunger took on epic proportions—participants reported violent fantasies, contemplating suicide, murder, and ultimately, cannibalism.
A hot topic lately has been the significant increase in adult (and childhood) obesity—recent figures indicate, for example, that 64% of Americans (115 million) are considered overweight or obese. How do we explain this trend? While a number of factors may be involved, taking note from the Minnesota study, as well as the general research suggesting that (depending on which study you reference), 95-98% of all diets fail, it seems that perhaps the simple and repeated act of trying to restrict oneself has actually led to our expanding waistline. Trying to (unnaturally) tame an appetite can have quite a rebound effect, leading to both acute and chronic overeating, as compensation. While most self-imposed food restrictors thankfully do not arrive at the point of suicidal or homicidal ideation, what we can say is that the more weight we try to lose, the more we seem to gain. As a corollary, the more we grow our diet industry (now worth an estimated $40 billion), the more we grow ourselves, begging the question: Is it possible that we are obese simply because we are trying so hard not to be?
As any observer of the Jewish holiday, Yom Kippur, or the Muslim period of Ramadan may tell you, fasting is a unique psychophysiological state, in which food becomes a primary focus. While religious or spiritual matters may be intended to take center stage, when told to not think about a white horse (or White Castle burger, as the case may be), that’s exactly what we can’t seem to do. Fasters may overindulge the night before, as they “stock up” for the fast, may similarly overindulge post-fast, and often report spending a great deal of time during the fast thinking about food, their hunger, and when they’ll eat again. From a dieting perspective, it’s likely that in the end, they’ve consumed more food than they would have without the fast, with the additional problem of having toyed (albeit briefly) with their metabolism.
In the Minnesota study, now captured by Todd Tucker in the new book, The Great Starvation Experiment, what we saw was a compromised humanity (and throwback to animal times), resulting from food restriction. As participants lost weight, and essentially began to starve, not only did they become incredibly and solely focused on food, but their hunger took on epic proportions—participants reported violent fantasies, contemplating suicide, murder, and ultimately, cannibalism.
A hot topic lately has been the significant increase in adult (and childhood) obesity—recent figures indicate, for example, that 64% of Americans (115 million) are considered overweight or obese. How do we explain this trend? While a number of factors may be involved, taking note from the Minnesota study, as well as the general research suggesting that (depending on which study you reference), 95-98% of all diets fail, it seems that perhaps the simple and repeated act of trying to restrict oneself has actually led to our expanding waistline. Trying to (unnaturally) tame an appetite can have quite a rebound effect, leading to both acute and chronic overeating, as compensation. While most self-imposed food restrictors thankfully do not arrive at the point of suicidal or homicidal ideation, what we can say is that the more weight we try to lose, the more we seem to gain. As a corollary, the more we grow our diet industry (now worth an estimated $40 billion), the more we grow ourselves, begging the question: Is it possible that we are obese simply because we are trying so hard not to be?
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Miss Jackson
Janet Jackson. Amid wardrobe malfunctions and family drama, the woman still knows how to pick a man. In a recent issue of Britain’s Grazia magazine, Janet reports that despite her 68-pound weight-gain for a now defunct movie role, her music industry boyfriend, Jermaine Dupri, still worshipped her frame:
Not once did he make me feel uncomfortable. He'd grab me, pull me around the stomach, look me in the eyes and say, 'This needs love too!'40-year-old Janet is convinced she’s found “The One.” To know that while her weight may fluctuate, his attraction to (and love for) her remains constant produces one of the most monumental relationship exhales. And, isn’t that what partnership is all about? To quote Janet in song, “That’s the way love goes.”
I thought that was the sweetest thing. I've never in my life had love that was so unconditional.
My weight never affected my sex life. Nothing changed, nothing!
Friday, September 22, 2006
Medifast Response
My August 29th post on Medifast appears to have hit a nerve. While I typically haven't commented on older posts, I feel it's important to address some of the reader comments that now appear on this post.
I am happy to hear that some readers have lost significant amounts of weight on Medifast and even happier that they report being healthier and feeling more energetic than they did before. I have consistently written that the subjects of eating and weight-loss are largely idiographic, and it makes perfect sense that different philosophies/approaches will work for different people. If Medifast has worked for you, feel free to stop reading here.
That said, as I wrote in an email to one reader, my personal experience working with patients (some of whom have had bariatric surgery, some of whom have clinical eating disorders, many of whom use food emotionally) is that there is very commonly a long and painful road of yo-yo dieting, which wreaks significant emotional havoc on them. By the time they see me (or my colleagues), they have tried numerous diets (some VLCD's), have lost weight, gained it back (plus some), and are absolutely dejected and demoralized. Through the years, I have also seen many patients who suffer from anorexia, bulimia, and EDNOS. This is the bulk of the readership of my blog (as judged by comments and emails to me). For these individuals, too, their relationship with food is an incredibly deep and emotional one and not one that can be addressed simply with a food plan or other behavioral measures. This does not, in any way, suggest that I believe that people cannot lose weight on Medifast. As some of you have reported, there is often a substantial weight-loss associated with VLCD's--and how could there not be?
To clarify a point on my post, I was not saying that Medifast allows only 167 calories per day. What I was saying is that in order to lose five pounds per week (as the Medifast website states is possible with the plan), you would have to have a deficit of 17,500 calories per week. You do the math. I have consulted with physicians and nutritionists on diets such as Medifast. As with everything, there are varying points of view. I will not, however, accept a doctor's approval of a diet plan as carte blanche to plow ahead. If you recall, Bextra/Vioxx/Celebrex, Fen-Phen, and even Thalidomide were once approved for use.
A couple of readers have questioned my credentials: I am a psychologist, with a master's degree in exercise science and a doctorate in clinical psychology (with an emphasis on health psychology). You're absolutely right that, outside of what's provided to me by the physicians and nutritionists with whom I consult, I do not claim to have specialized knowledge of specific nutritional programs. What I do claim to have knowledge and training in (and experience with) are the psychological factors that influence eating, dieting, and weight-loss cycles. In my experience, programs like Medifast are not a long-term solution to the psychological antecedents and sequelae of eating disorders. They may, however, work for you.
I do appreciate controversy. Without different (and often opposing) ideas, it is difficult for us to move forward as a science and a society. Attack my ideas as much as you'd like--I'm happy to provide a forum for you to do so; however, please, as I have advised before, challenge the ideas and not the writers. When attacks become personal, they are unnecessarily hurtful and obscuring of our ultimate goal.
I am happy to hear that some readers have lost significant amounts of weight on Medifast and even happier that they report being healthier and feeling more energetic than they did before. I have consistently written that the subjects of eating and weight-loss are largely idiographic, and it makes perfect sense that different philosophies/approaches will work for different people. If Medifast has worked for you, feel free to stop reading here.
That said, as I wrote in an email to one reader, my personal experience working with patients (some of whom have had bariatric surgery, some of whom have clinical eating disorders, many of whom use food emotionally) is that there is very commonly a long and painful road of yo-yo dieting, which wreaks significant emotional havoc on them. By the time they see me (or my colleagues), they have tried numerous diets (some VLCD's), have lost weight, gained it back (plus some), and are absolutely dejected and demoralized. Through the years, I have also seen many patients who suffer from anorexia, bulimia, and EDNOS. This is the bulk of the readership of my blog (as judged by comments and emails to me). For these individuals, too, their relationship with food is an incredibly deep and emotional one and not one that can be addressed simply with a food plan or other behavioral measures. This does not, in any way, suggest that I believe that people cannot lose weight on Medifast. As some of you have reported, there is often a substantial weight-loss associated with VLCD's--and how could there not be?
To clarify a point on my post, I was not saying that Medifast allows only 167 calories per day. What I was saying is that in order to lose five pounds per week (as the Medifast website states is possible with the plan), you would have to have a deficit of 17,500 calories per week. You do the math. I have consulted with physicians and nutritionists on diets such as Medifast. As with everything, there are varying points of view. I will not, however, accept a doctor's approval of a diet plan as carte blanche to plow ahead. If you recall, Bextra/Vioxx/Celebrex, Fen-Phen, and even Thalidomide were once approved for use.
A couple of readers have questioned my credentials: I am a psychologist, with a master's degree in exercise science and a doctorate in clinical psychology (with an emphasis on health psychology). You're absolutely right that, outside of what's provided to me by the physicians and nutritionists with whom I consult, I do not claim to have specialized knowledge of specific nutritional programs. What I do claim to have knowledge and training in (and experience with) are the psychological factors that influence eating, dieting, and weight-loss cycles. In my experience, programs like Medifast are not a long-term solution to the psychological antecedents and sequelae of eating disorders. They may, however, work for you.
I do appreciate controversy. Without different (and often opposing) ideas, it is difficult for us to move forward as a science and a society. Attack my ideas as much as you'd like--I'm happy to provide a forum for you to do so; however, please, as I have advised before, challenge the ideas and not the writers. When attacks become personal, they are unnecessarily hurtful and obscuring of our ultimate goal.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Miss Scarlett in the Kitchen with the Wrench
In an In Touch magazine feature entitled, “I Won’t Starve Myself,” Scarlett Johannson reports, “‘I’m comfortable with my body.’” Aside from the obvious question (who wouldn’t be comfortable with Johansson’s body?), I’m happy to read such a body-positive statement, particularly from a star who hasn’t historically made the “skinny alert” reports. “‘I’m not one of those actresses who is going to stop eating. . . I like chocolate and I’m going to eat it!’”, Johansson says. She seems to have arrived at a place that allows her to recognize her body is a factor in her work, but one that allows her to engage in healthy eating and body image practices. In a recent People feature, Johansson states: "I'm curvy – I'm never going to be 5' 11" and 120 pounds," she says. "But I feel lucky to have what I've got."
Johansson is currently parlaying her body positivism into the design of a new line for Reebok footwear and apparel, called “Scarlett Hearts Reebok.” The line, which debuts in the spring of 2007, has been described as “athletic inspired” and “fashion forward.” Johansson tells InStyle magazine that items are "fitted to my body. So I know they'll fit a regular person." Well, Scarlett, you’re not exactly a regular person, but you’re certainly a closer approximation than the waif. Every Woman Has an Eating Disorder hearts you for throwing a wrench in the celebrity culture of starvation and body distortion and for eating what you want and accepting yourself the way you are.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Pathways
In Overcoming Binge Eating, Dr. Christopher Fairburn describes a common pathway for how patients arrive at bulimic behavior:
Sound familiar?
Of course, anorexia is not a required stop in this journey—many people swing from dieting to binge eating without a descent into full-blown anorexia. In either case, one of the easiest points of intervention in this dieting-->anorexia (or not)-->binge eating-->bulimia cycle is the dieting stage. Dr. Fairburn talks about three forms of dieting, including:
Typically the person begins dieting and losing weight in the mid-teenage years, despite in many cases not having been overweight in the first place. When the weight loss is extreme, it leads to the development of anorexia nervosa. Eventually, after a varying amount of time, the person’s control over eating starts to break down and he or she begins to binge. Control progressively deteriorates, and the person’s weight gradually returns to near its original level.Once bingeing begins, it may only be a matter of time before the fear of weight-gain escalates to the point of necessitating the purge.
Sound familiar?
Of course, anorexia is not a required stop in this journey—many people swing from dieting to binge eating without a descent into full-blown anorexia. In either case, one of the easiest points of intervention in this dieting-->anorexia (or not)-->binge eating-->bulimia cycle is the dieting stage. Dr. Fairburn talks about three forms of dieting, including:
1) Trying not to eat for long periods of time 2) Trying to restrict the overall amount eaten 3) Trying to avoid certain types of foodAccording to him, any of these restrictions can eventually lead to a binge. What I find interesting is how creative we are with our dieting attempts—we may think we’re not dieting because we’re not on a specific plan or because we eat three meals a day, but when you consider the restrictions above, it’s clear how the diet can cleverly masquerade as “I’m too busy to eat” or “I’m just being healthy.” Will dieting always segue into an eating disorder? No. But, for many it will, and it’s important to be aware of this outcome and to be on guard for the plunge into anorexic or binge-eating behavior.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Community
So, this is it—my 101st post! I still plan on posting regularly (aiming for twice a week), though will now turn more of my attention back to my clinical work, teaching, and getting this book proposal accepted.
For now, I’ve compiled (a la Barbara’s idea) a list of the blogs I know that link to me. Apologies if I got any of the addresses wrong—please feel free to correct or redirect in the comments section. Also, if you link to me but I don’t know it, please feel free to add your site. Thank you all for sending readers my way. Everyone else—check out these amazing blogs and the women who write them!
www.aweightyissue.blogsome.com
www.babblingcats2.blogspot.com
www.bexactually.blogspot.com
www.burntoday.com
www.cheatymonkey.com
www.dickundduenn.blogspot.com
www.donnainhouston.blogspot.com
www.fatnforty.wordpress.com
www.girladdicted.com
www.hollygoheavily.blogspot.com
www.idiet.blogspot.com
www.iendedupherehow.com
www.jens-ramblings.blogspot.com
www.kellyim10.blogspot.com
www.meltingmama.typepad.com
www.minusthirty.blogspot.com
www.nopenotanymore.blogspot.com
www.nourishyoursoul.blogspot.com
www.onbulimia.blogs.com
www.onceuponafatgirl.blogspot.com
www.opaat.blogspot.com
www.pathofmindfulness.blogspot.com
www.sizeate.blogspot.com
www.talesofafatgirl.blogspot.com
www.thechocholatebunny.blogspot.com
www.weightedlongenough.com
For now, I’ve compiled (a la Barbara’s idea) a list of the blogs I know that link to me. Apologies if I got any of the addresses wrong—please feel free to correct or redirect in the comments section. Also, if you link to me but I don’t know it, please feel free to add your site. Thank you all for sending readers my way. Everyone else—check out these amazing blogs and the women who write them!
www.aweightyissue.blogsome.com
www.babblingcats2.blogspot.com
www.bexactually.blogspot.com
www.burntoday.com
www.cheatymonkey.com
www.dickundduenn.blogspot.com
www.donnainhouston.blogspot.com
www.fatnforty.wordpress.com
www.girladdicted.com
www.hollygoheavily.blogspot.com
www.idiet.blogspot.com
www.iendedupherehow.com
www.jens-ramblings.blogspot.com
www.kellyim10.blogspot.com
www.meltingmama.typepad.com
www.minusthirty.blogspot.com
www.nopenotanymore.blogspot.com
www.nourishyoursoul.blogspot.com
www.onbulimia.blogs.com
www.onceuponafatgirl.blogspot.com
www.opaat.blogspot.com
www.pathofmindfulness.blogspot.com
www.sizeate.blogspot.com
www.talesofafatgirl.blogspot.com
www.thechocholatebunny.blogspot.com
www.weightedlongenough.com
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Motivation
Do you operate out of self-love or self-abuse? It’s something to consider, especially if you’d like to change something about yourself. I’d argue that no change can be made out of self-abuse. The self-loving part of you will always step in and sabotage the plan.
A big push in psychology (particularly with regard to eating disorders) is this concept of self-care. How do you comfort, soothe, and be kind to yourself? Are you compassionate, gentle, and patient, or harsh, punitive, and unyielding? What language do you use with yourself? Is it angry, hurtful, and condemning?
As someone who usually espouses the value of the continuum, I’m feeling pretty black-and-white on this one. It seems that so much of our behavior, particularly related to eating and our bodies, is either motivated by self-care or self-abuse. Eating when you’re hungry? Self-care. Exercising when you’re tired, or sick, or because you have to get rid of the fat? Self-abuse. Allowing yourself to have a food that you desire? Self-care. Eating when you’re stuffed? Self-abuse.
A big push in psychology (particularly with regard to eating disorders) is this concept of self-care. How do you comfort, soothe, and be kind to yourself? Are you compassionate, gentle, and patient, or harsh, punitive, and unyielding? What language do you use with yourself? Is it angry, hurtful, and condemning?
As someone who usually espouses the value of the continuum, I’m feeling pretty black-and-white on this one. It seems that so much of our behavior, particularly related to eating and our bodies, is either motivated by self-care or self-abuse. Eating when you’re hungry? Self-care. Exercising when you’re tired, or sick, or because you have to get rid of the fat? Self-abuse. Allowing yourself to have a food that you desire? Self-care. Eating when you’re stuffed? Self-abuse.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Making Weight

Dislike your job? It could be worse—The New York Post reported yesterday that two ex-waitresses of Manhattan’s Sutton Place Bar and Restaurant are suing the establishment (to the tune of $15 million) for tracking their weight and forcing them to hop on the scale at work. One of the plaintiffs, Kristen McRemond, 27, indicated that “she physically resisted when a beefy manager tried to pick her up to get her on the scale while another manager looked on.” It seems that only female employees were subjected to public weigh-ins (or criticized for their choice of foods when dining themselves). The Post reports that the “waitresses' individual weights were tracked on a computer spreadsheet - and the results placed on a Web site that tracked the weights of waitresses in other establishments in the city.”
McRemond, and her co-plaintiff, Alexandria Lipton, 25 (featured above), are accusing Sutton Place’s owners and managers of sexual harassment and illegal firing—both McRedmond and Lipton were axed after vocalizing disagreement about the weigh-ins. As you may imagine, the restaurant’s lawyer has denied these allegations, but has not provided explanation as to why McRemond and Lipton were let go.
While the allegations here are pretty straightforward, it begs the question of how many other workplaces engage in less-subtle (but still discriminatory) weight-related practices. I hope that the current suit raises consciousness about weight discrimination, particularly against women. A woman’s body is not a commodity, a product to be sold—and if the owners of this establishment disagree, then, clearly, they’re in the wrong business.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
EDNOS
Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (EDNOS) is a clinical eating disorder that captures eating-disordered thoughts, feelings, and behavior that do not meet full criteria for Anorexia Nervosa or Bulimia Nervosa. While no specific criteria distinguish this diagnosis, the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM IV-TR) offers the following examples of symptoms that would warrant a clinical diagnosis:
1. One of the required symptoms for a diagnosis of anorexia is that you present with amenorrhea (having no menstrual period for at least three months). So, if you meet all other criteria for anorexia (less than or equal to 85% of what you should weigh, fears of gaining weight, body-image disturbance), but are still getting your period, your diagnosis would likely be EDNOS.
2. The first criterion for anorexia is “refusal to maintain body weight at or above a minimally normal weight for age and height.” This is often translated to the 85% rule stated above. However, some people might have started out at a heavier weight, and thus, even if they lose lots of weight, they’re actually not below “normal” weight expectations.
3. Think of this one as less-frequent bulimia—there is bingeing and purging, but not at the same rate (or for the same duration) as what would be required for a bulimia diagnosis.
4. This example captures those who don’t, by definition, binge, but who still rely on compensatory strategies (vomiting, laxative use) following even small amounts of food consumption (sometimes referred to as “purging disorder”).
5. Pretty straight-forward.
6. Binge Eating Disorder is, as of now, what’s called a “criteria set.” The American Psychiatric Association has recognized the condition as one which warrants further empirical attention, and it’s quite possible, that by the next revision of the DSM (supposedly in 2010), Binge Eating Disorder will be recognized as its own diagnosable (read: reimbursable) condition. Other disorders similarly on deck include: Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (now coded under a type of depression), Mixed Anxiety-Depressive Disorder, and Caffeine Withdrawal.
The list of six examples given above is not intended to be a comprehensive list of all of the symptom constellations that might qualify as EDNOS. Symptom presentations, as individual, may vary, and it is important to recognize that for those who suffer from EDNOS, this is a serious condition no less painful, no less subjectively detrimental, no less of a personal hell than anorexia or bulimia. While it is likely that EDNOS is not as fatal as anorexia or bulimia, EDNOS can still cause substantial ruin. EDNOS can ruin your self-concept. It can ruin relationships. It can ruin your work and your interests. It can still ruin. . . you.
1. For females, all of the criteria for Anorexia Nervosa are met except that the individual has regular menses.DrStaceyny’s input (by number):
2. All of the criteria for Anorexia Nervosa are met except that, despite significant weight loss, the individual’s current weight is in the normal range.
3. All of the criteria for Bulimia Nervosa are met except that the binge eating and inappropriate compensatory mechanisms occur at a frequency of less than twice a week or for a duration of less than three months.
4. The regular use of inappropriate compensatory behavior by an individual of normal body weight after eating small amounts of food (e.g., self-induced vomiting after the consumption of two cookies).
5. Repeatedly chewing and spitting out, but not swallowing, large amounts of food.
6. Binge-eating disorder: recurrent episodes of binge eating in the absence of the regularly use of inappropriate compensatory behaviors characteristic of Bulimia Nervosa.
1. One of the required symptoms for a diagnosis of anorexia is that you present with amenorrhea (having no menstrual period for at least three months). So, if you meet all other criteria for anorexia (less than or equal to 85% of what you should weigh, fears of gaining weight, body-image disturbance), but are still getting your period, your diagnosis would likely be EDNOS.
2. The first criterion for anorexia is “refusal to maintain body weight at or above a minimally normal weight for age and height.” This is often translated to the 85% rule stated above. However, some people might have started out at a heavier weight, and thus, even if they lose lots of weight, they’re actually not below “normal” weight expectations.
3. Think of this one as less-frequent bulimia—there is bingeing and purging, but not at the same rate (or for the same duration) as what would be required for a bulimia diagnosis.
4. This example captures those who don’t, by definition, binge, but who still rely on compensatory strategies (vomiting, laxative use) following even small amounts of food consumption (sometimes referred to as “purging disorder”).
5. Pretty straight-forward.
6. Binge Eating Disorder is, as of now, what’s called a “criteria set.” The American Psychiatric Association has recognized the condition as one which warrants further empirical attention, and it’s quite possible, that by the next revision of the DSM (supposedly in 2010), Binge Eating Disorder will be recognized as its own diagnosable (read: reimbursable) condition. Other disorders similarly on deck include: Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (now coded under a type of depression), Mixed Anxiety-Depressive Disorder, and Caffeine Withdrawal.
The list of six examples given above is not intended to be a comprehensive list of all of the symptom constellations that might qualify as EDNOS. Symptom presentations, as individual, may vary, and it is important to recognize that for those who suffer from EDNOS, this is a serious condition no less painful, no less subjectively detrimental, no less of a personal hell than anorexia or bulimia. While it is likely that EDNOS is not as fatal as anorexia or bulimia, EDNOS can still cause substantial ruin. EDNOS can ruin your self-concept. It can ruin relationships. It can ruin your work and your interests. It can still ruin. . . you.
Monday, September 11, 2006
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
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
Friday, September 08, 2006
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:
One of the more popular searches that lands people at my site?
Other searches focus on dieting and eating-disorder tips and techniques:
-Is Mandy Moore getting fat?We also seem to be very interested in celebrity dress sizes, including the sizes of some of the aforementioned stars, as well as others.
-Beyonce Knowles’ recent weight-loss secret
-Katherine Heigl bra size
-Jessica Alba eating disorder squats
-Jamie Sigler eating disorder
-Katie Couric fat arms
One of the more popular searches that lands people at my site?
-Woman eating shitSo. . . uh. . . I have absolutely no idea what to say here.
Other searches focus on dieting and eating-disorder tips and techniques:
-What WW members eatIn 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.
-Non-purging bulimia
-Starve and barf
-Bingeing restrictions
-How to hide an eating disorder
-Anorexic 75-lb womanAnd, the most harrowing query to date?
-Freudian anorexic pregnancy
-Ballerina anorexic images
-47-pound anorexic ballerina
-Anorexic role models
-How little can a woman weigh and still live
Thursday, September 07, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
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?”
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?”
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
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:
Not Games: Taking bids on people’s lives
Which emaciated star will disappear first?Games: Simon Says, Monopoly, Spades
1) Nicole Richie
2) Kate Bosworth
3) Mischa Barton
4) Paris Hilton
5) Ashlee Simpson
Not Games: Taking bids on people’s lives
Friday, September 01, 2006
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
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
Thursday, August 31, 2006
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?
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
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. . .
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
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:
place. . . .
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. . . .
Monday, August 28, 2006
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. . . .
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. . . .
Friday, August 25, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
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.”
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
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)
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)
Monday, August 21, 2006
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.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?
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.
Friday, August 18, 2006
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. . . .
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. . . .
Thursday, August 17, 2006
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:
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?):
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
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. . . .
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
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.)
Monday, August 14, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Family Conflict
In an episode of Showtime’s series Weeds, Celia Hodes (Elizabeth Perkins) regularly weighs her daughter, Isabelle (played by 12-year-old Allie Grant), and as the scale tips, accuses Isabelle of sneaking food. The solution? Celia sneakily swaps part of Isabelle’s candy bar for a chocolate laxative, landing Isabelle in the elementary school bathroom and as the flatulent target of her peers. Isabelle’s father yells at Celia, “They called her, ‘Shit Girl!’”
“Well, better than ‘Fat Girl,” Celia replies. She continues, “It is cold and cruel out there for fat girls.”
Incidentally, the sour apple doesn’t far fall from the tree. Privy to her mother’s guile, Isabelle plants Immodium in Celia’s Trimspa bottle, rendering the bathroom-happy Celia as bloated, constipated, and enraged. As she makes camp on the toilet, reading, doing the crossword, filing her nails, chugging water, and even nodding off, Isabelle’s in bed, polishing off a chocolate bar. Her response to her mother’s frustrated screams: a smug, complacent, “Bitch.” Was Isabelle hungry? Maybe. Craving chocolate? Perhaps. But, it’s clear that rebellion trumps all else, that the chocolate bar is a prop in an ongoing family struggle that ultimately has no victor.
“Well, better than ‘Fat Girl,” Celia replies. She continues, “It is cold and cruel out there for fat girls.”
Incidentally, the sour apple doesn’t far fall from the tree. Privy to her mother’s guile, Isabelle plants Immodium in Celia’s Trimspa bottle, rendering the bathroom-happy Celia as bloated, constipated, and enraged. As she makes camp on the toilet, reading, doing the crossword, filing her nails, chugging water, and even nodding off, Isabelle’s in bed, polishing off a chocolate bar. Her response to her mother’s frustrated screams: a smug, complacent, “Bitch.” Was Isabelle hungry? Maybe. Craving chocolate? Perhaps. But, it’s clear that rebellion trumps all else, that the chocolate bar is a prop in an ongoing family struggle that ultimately has no victor.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Cravings
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to be thin, or thinner than you are. In fact, I’d say there might be something wrong if you were not affected by (or hadn’t internalized) the hordes of media messages we receive on a daily basis, suggesting that this be your ultimate goal. But, it’s interesting to me how body dissatisfaction so easily turns emotional and destructive.
Outside of your weight or shape, I’m sure there are things about your appearance that you don’t find ideal. Maybe your hair’s frizzy, or your complexion’s spotty. Maybe your feet are funny. As a personal example, I point to my fingernails. No matter what I do, they don’t grow. As soon as they’re about an eighth of an inch beyond my fingers, they snag/peel/break, and they’re off. Sure, there are some things I can do (nail hardeners, for example), but the bottom line is, oh, well, I’m never going to have long nails. And I’m ok with that.
Why can’t we be this way about our bodies? Desiring to be thinner, but resigned to how we are. We might be disappointed by a “problem” feature, and we may even try to fix it, but nothing, in my mind, packs the same emotional punch as not weighing what we should. Nothing has such a grip, such a soul-clamp, on who we are as the gap between our bodies and how we want them to be.
Outside of your weight or shape, I’m sure there are things about your appearance that you don’t find ideal. Maybe your hair’s frizzy, or your complexion’s spotty. Maybe your feet are funny. As a personal example, I point to my fingernails. No matter what I do, they don’t grow. As soon as they’re about an eighth of an inch beyond my fingers, they snag/peel/break, and they’re off. Sure, there are some things I can do (nail hardeners, for example), but the bottom line is, oh, well, I’m never going to have long nails. And I’m ok with that.
Why can’t we be this way about our bodies? Desiring to be thinner, but resigned to how we are. We might be disappointed by a “problem” feature, and we may even try to fix it, but nothing, in my mind, packs the same emotional punch as not weighing what we should. Nothing has such a grip, such a soul-clamp, on who we are as the gap between our bodies and how we want them to be.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Pageant Culture

In the recent film, Little Miss Sunshine, 7-year-old, pint-sized, beauty-pageant contestant Olive Hoover is faced with a harrowing dilemma: with her family at a roadside diner, Olive orders waffles a la mode, only to draw criticism from her motivational-speaker father, to the tune of, “eating fat makes you fat.” Olive ponders the diminutive dish of chocolate ice cream before her, as her father persuades her to abstain (citing qualitative statistics—pageant contestants don’t eat ice cream!), and she dejectedly, but resolutely, resists.
Once at the Little Miss Sunshine pageant, Olive prepares for her swimsuit and talent competitions, decidedly unlike the other pre-pubescent participants. Her hair isn’t hot-iron curled, her body isn’t blasted with fake tanner, her make-up is subtle, and her mother is comparatively unobtrusive. But, prior to taking the stage, Olive, in one of the saddest scenes of the film, pauses in front of the mirror, and seems to catch her reflection for the first time. She self-consciously evaluates her childlike frame, and you can almost read her mind. It’s a moment that signifies hope shattered, innocence lost, all in pregnant gaze. She’s a bit pudgier than the other girls, and she’s probably grateful she didn’t indulge. Olive looks at her reflection with a disappointment that can only reflect the internalization of adult-like messages, and in a flash, she seamlessly morphs into a pageant contestant.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Role Model
Mara Reinstein is an entertainment writer for US Weekly, who last year, was diagnosed with enteritis, a “bacterial disease” that resulted in significant gastro-intestinal stress. Due to the disease, the normally thin Reinstein lost weight and was surprised by the reactions she received. In a recent issue of Glamour magazine, Reinstein asks, “‘Why was the outside world so thrilled with my ravaged body?’” It seems that friends and family celebrated her 11-pound weight loss, which resulted in her being significantly underweight, and which, incidentally, also resulted in her inability to hail a cab, keep color in face and ample fluid in her system, or sometimes, even, simply, to sit up.
What I find inspiring about Reinstein’s Glamour piece is her surprise about people’s reactions, as well as her commitment to re-gain her weight (and health). Reinstein writes: “‘It took a life-threatening illness to make me realize how much my peers value being ultra-thin. Now I understand why some celebrities succumb to the allure of jutting ribs in string bikinis: Their bizarre habits are rewarded with compliments from their handlers, friends, and fans.’”
Reinstein reports that she’s re-gained her weight, but has “‘never felt better about her body.’” While it may be hard for some women to identify with someone whose baseline is a Size 6, I’m happy that Reinstein wrote this piece and even happier that she can provide a different (read: healthier) perspective for the entertainment/celebrity industry. As a staff writer, maybe she can convince US Weekly editors to reduce the magazine’s features on ultra-thin women (do we really need another piece on Keira Knightley?), or maybe she’ll just hesitate to write such pieces herself. Baby steps. . .
What I find inspiring about Reinstein’s Glamour piece is her surprise about people’s reactions, as well as her commitment to re-gain her weight (and health). Reinstein writes: “‘It took a life-threatening illness to make me realize how much my peers value being ultra-thin. Now I understand why some celebrities succumb to the allure of jutting ribs in string bikinis: Their bizarre habits are rewarded with compliments from their handlers, friends, and fans.’”
Reinstein reports that she’s re-gained her weight, but has “‘never felt better about her body.’” While it may be hard for some women to identify with someone whose baseline is a Size 6, I’m happy that Reinstein wrote this piece and even happier that she can provide a different (read: healthier) perspective for the entertainment/celebrity industry. As a staff writer, maybe she can convince US Weekly editors to reduce the magazine’s features on ultra-thin women (do we really need another piece on Keira Knightley?), or maybe she’ll just hesitate to write such pieces herself. Baby steps. . .
Friday, August 04, 2006
OO
In Overcoming Overeating, Jane Hirschmann and Carol Munter presented one of the first guides for intuitive eating, namely eating when you’re hungry and stopping when you’re full. As they contend, a compulsive eater is not addicted to food, but to the diet-binge cycle. Their theory purports that overeating results from overly rigid (diet) standards, and that it is your (healthy) way of asserting yourself. Hirschmann and Munter write:
Their approach allows you to eat whatever you’re craving in a given moment and focuses on equalizing different kinds of food, so that you can arrive at a place where a carrot has the same value as a slice of carrot cake. Whenever you’re hungry, you’re encouraged to ask yourself what you’re craving: Something sweet? Salty? Crunchy? Mushy? Hot? Cold? And, you’re encouraged to eat exactly what you’re craving. Time and time again, Hirschmann and Munter (in their clinical work) have found that people may make some unhealthy choices early on, but eventually their bodies regulate and they begin to crave, at different times, foods across the spectrum.
Other aspects of Hirschmann and Munter’s approach include:
1) Carrying around a food bag, stocked with different types of food, in order to prevent those moments of excessive hunger that lead to overeating.
2) Cleaning out your closet to reflect your current weight—either giving away or hiding the clothing that no longer fits, since seeing it on a daily basis is a reminder that you’ve “failed.”
3) Stocking your home with an array of foods, including what they call “formerly forbidden foods.” The theory is that by exposing yourself to foods that you used to deny yourself, you’ll, over time, reduce their “glitter,” and, consequently, their grip on you. As for amounts? Hirschmann and Munter encourage you to have, on hand, three times the amount of food that you’re capable of eating in a binge. Ideally, it’s all in a single container (think stuffing three bags of Oreos into a large plastic container), so that you’re not able to get caught up in amounts (“I’ve now eaten an entire row”), but instead can focus on what your body wants. We tend to overeat when we know there’s a limited amount (possibly a relic of dieting, in which we’re stocking up before a self-imposed draught).
4) Thinking beyond meals—eating when you’re hungry and not around a preordained schedule. In practice, this results, typically, in more than three “eating experiences” per day.
5) Engaging in “mirror work,” in which you practice looking at your body, without judgment.
6) Working at distinguishing between “stomach hunger” (when you’re physiologically hungry) and “mouth hunger” (when you’re craving food out of boredom, anxiety, anger, loneliness, or any other motivation that doesn’t involve physiological hunger) and, over time, arriving at a place where you’re eating more frequently out of stomach hunger and able to identify mouth hunger and why you might be experiencing it.
7) Tossing the scale.
Various aspects of this approach (or the approach in its entirety) may seem ridiculously radical, particularly in a culture that preaches regular meals, precision, restriction, monitoring, and self-loathing. Certainly, it won’t work for everyone. But, I’ve found that it can be quite helpful for women who have historically cycled through the diet-binge chain, who would like to disempower the hold that food has on their lives, and who are interested in promoting a body image governed by self-acceptance.
You the hopeless case feel out of control and despondent because you’ve bought the line that you’re a failure at the idealized task of body shaping. But you the rebel are a success. You break the rules and assert your right to eat what you want and look as you do. The compulsive eater is, in an interesting way, a rebel in constant protest against what has, by now, become her own imposition of cultural standards and judgments.
Their approach allows you to eat whatever you’re craving in a given moment and focuses on equalizing different kinds of food, so that you can arrive at a place where a carrot has the same value as a slice of carrot cake. Whenever you’re hungry, you’re encouraged to ask yourself what you’re craving: Something sweet? Salty? Crunchy? Mushy? Hot? Cold? And, you’re encouraged to eat exactly what you’re craving. Time and time again, Hirschmann and Munter (in their clinical work) have found that people may make some unhealthy choices early on, but eventually their bodies regulate and they begin to crave, at different times, foods across the spectrum.
Other aspects of Hirschmann and Munter’s approach include:
1) Carrying around a food bag, stocked with different types of food, in order to prevent those moments of excessive hunger that lead to overeating.
2) Cleaning out your closet to reflect your current weight—either giving away or hiding the clothing that no longer fits, since seeing it on a daily basis is a reminder that you’ve “failed.”
3) Stocking your home with an array of foods, including what they call “formerly forbidden foods.” The theory is that by exposing yourself to foods that you used to deny yourself, you’ll, over time, reduce their “glitter,” and, consequently, their grip on you. As for amounts? Hirschmann and Munter encourage you to have, on hand, three times the amount of food that you’re capable of eating in a binge. Ideally, it’s all in a single container (think stuffing three bags of Oreos into a large plastic container), so that you’re not able to get caught up in amounts (“I’ve now eaten an entire row”), but instead can focus on what your body wants. We tend to overeat when we know there’s a limited amount (possibly a relic of dieting, in which we’re stocking up before a self-imposed draught).
4) Thinking beyond meals—eating when you’re hungry and not around a preordained schedule. In practice, this results, typically, in more than three “eating experiences” per day.
5) Engaging in “mirror work,” in which you practice looking at your body, without judgment.
6) Working at distinguishing between “stomach hunger” (when you’re physiologically hungry) and “mouth hunger” (when you’re craving food out of boredom, anxiety, anger, loneliness, or any other motivation that doesn’t involve physiological hunger) and, over time, arriving at a place where you’re eating more frequently out of stomach hunger and able to identify mouth hunger and why you might be experiencing it.
7) Tossing the scale.
Various aspects of this approach (or the approach in its entirety) may seem ridiculously radical, particularly in a culture that preaches regular meals, precision, restriction, monitoring, and self-loathing. Certainly, it won’t work for everyone. But, I’ve found that it can be quite helpful for women who have historically cycled through the diet-binge chain, who would like to disempower the hold that food has on their lives, and who are interested in promoting a body image governed by self-acceptance.
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