Breakfast Bar : The Bitey Few
Yesterday, I read a piece on the feisty Catherine Deveny’s blog (the piece was first published on Mamamia, I think.) It was all about body love and acceptance, amongst other things. It featured a photo of Ms Deveny looking rather fetching in a bathing suit. I clicked over to Mamamia and admiringly trawled through the first page of comments. I felt cheerily buoyed by the support her piece* received from readers. And then…
Lo and behold, surrounded by this potentially warm and fuzzy feeling of sisterhood, a debate began about alleged ‘fat bashing’ and ‘skinny bashing’. There was mud slung for and against fake boobs and fake eyes. Ladies tussled over teeth and tans. Ugh. Ugh-lier still, amongst the comments about learning to love ourselves, and photos of readers with varying lovely body types, there were some jarring comments, about Catherine’s body
‘Personally I would be traumatised if I was this fat, I find those thighs pretty scary’ said one reader.
‘Suit yourself. Good for you being happy with your size, but if I got to 80kg, I would be disgusted with myself’ declared another.
‘I can’t believe those thighs can cycle 20km & run 6 km & still be that big! That would dishearten me after all that effort exercising!’ exclaimed a third.
I mean REALLY? Are you freaking kidding me? Huh? I was kind of shocked that some (ladies) would choose a piece about (self) acceptance, to be so judgey. Gosh. (For the record I think that thighs of all sizes are lovely and skin of all hues is completely divine and I just want you to be in good health and okay with yourself.)
Now back to Ms Disgusted, Ms Disheartened and Ms Traumatised. Yikes. What would your Nanna think of you? I’m not sure which high horse you rode in on, but it’s a bitey one (or a bitey few.) Perhaps the horse came from the Ranch of Repugnance? It’s not a very nice Ranch, I can tell you, the horses are very misunderstood, the cowgirls are un-smiling, even the tumbleweeds are reluctant. It’s a good place for cows.
Don’t get me wrong, I get that Ms Deveny may not be your cup of tea, especially after the Bindi jibe and all, but how can you publicly sling (body) hate at someone you don’t even really KNOW? Especially when they are trying to talk to you about something important and sensitive? It’s not nice manners and it’s not a nice place to be coming from either.
(Catherine later commented on her own post at MM : ‘I adore my thighs! That’s how I want them to look. HOT!’ GO her! Win!)
But wait. Sadly there’s more. On another local blog, I read a piece about Miranda Kerr, a writer branding her unlikeable and ‘despised by the industry’. The ladywriter was relieved that people were coming out to tell ‘the truth’ about Ms Kerr and her lack of personality. The local piece was a response to this article, where two International co-writers declared ‘Kerr shows a strong reluctance to utter any sentences not purely banal’. Um. Really? Why so keen to out Kerr as a boring fraud? Surely it doesn’t really matter if she’s not chatting particularly earth shattering stuff to journalists? She’s a model not an orator. And perhaps she’s just a private person, despite her public persona. Maybe she had pregnant brain? Or baby brain? Or no sleep? How does it make sense to complain that you can’t get to know the ‘real’ Miranda, whilst celebrating the outing of the ‘real’ Miranda? Ugh. Why so harsh? Off to the ranch with you. Take some apples for the horses.
Also in the news this week, apparently Lara Bingle is fat? Um. She’s not. And so what if she is? She’s not. Put on some spurs and chaps whoever is saying this. Take a ride on the mechanical bull. It’s totes appropriate for you.
I could go on and on. But that makes me feel like an Un-smiling Cowgirl too. I don’t want to judge the judgers, yet I’ve totally had enough of this girl on girl nastiness. Why are some women so hard on other women? It’s got to stop. Trolling one another. Taking digs and bites. Stop, I say!
Diminishing each other is no way to feel better about ourselves. A bit of kindness and acceptance might just do the trick, though. It’s certainly far more rewarding than hanging out at the Ranch of Repugnance, don’t you think?
Don’t be a donkey. Don’t be a cow. Buck the mechanical bull. Giddy up for the sisterhood!
Have you experienced this kind of nastiness? Are ladies too hard on each other? Have we forgotten our manners? Your thoughts?
* It was a vintage style one piece. You can see it here.