Can't we be a bit nicer to each other?
Sunday, 2 December 2007
One of the great pleasures of the weekend is having the time to sit down and read the Sunday papers from cover to cover, or linger at length over the latest edition of 'Good Housekeeping' (which I love, and I don't care if it's a magazine for 50-year-olds. Thank you for my subscription, Mummy!). Sunday just isn't Sunday without The Times, and in particular the News Review and Style Magazine. But although I turn eagerly every week to read columns and articles penned by intelligent, free-thinking and articulate female journalists, and often agree with much of what they say, there seems to be a rather unfortunate trend emerging: that of putting down other women for, well, absolutely everything from their weight to their decisions regarding procreation.
I'm not talking about those nasty, intrusive photos you see on the front page of 'Heat' and its ilk, the ones where large arrows helpfully alert you to the fact that some celebrity or other has sweat patches under her arms, a moustache that needs waxing off or an outbreak of pimples. These pictures are hardly kind or edifying, but at least the shamed young ladies can pop into Boots and invest in some Soft & Gentle or a tub of Jolen Creme Bleach in order to rectify the problem. And there's always the option of a nice layer of foundation if you're predisposed to bad skin. I'm referring more to the journalists who are making it increasingly impossible for women - ordinary and famous alike - to retain a decent amount of confidence about themselves because they are either getting slated in the media for being a) too fat b) too thin c) less good at dancing than someone else d) too posh e) too common etc. or because because they see or read about someone else who is being picked on for having some characteristic that they also have, ie being a) too fat b) too thin c) and so on and so on. And the crucial difference is that most of the time they can't do anything about whatever it is for which they are being criticised.
Nigella Lawson, of whom I happen to be a fan, has recently received rather a lot of adverse publicity. This is not so much because of the comedic value of her TV programme Nigella Express, where she waxes empathetic about the challenges and pressures of being a working mother and then spoils it all slightly by proceeding to serve up a lamb, olive and caramelised onion tagine (what is a tagine, I wonder? Must look it up on Wikipedia...) in her fabulous designer kitchen to her children Cosima, Bruno and Phoebe and multimillionaire husband, but because of her suddenly expanding girth. Suddenly, having enjoyed a lengthy spell as the third most beautiful woman in the world and as someone who men want and women want to be because of her gorgeous curves and lack of preoccupation with her size, she's been turned on. Too much cream for you, my girl! people are shouting at her. She's joined the ranks of the 'Fat Cows' which, according to Style Magazine, also includes Bootylicious Beyonce and JK Rowling. The likes of Keira Knightley (who is apparently a bad role model for those considering anorexia) and Nicole Richie (who has managed to save herself from further barbed comments by becoming pregnant, and for the first time in years has earned an approving compliment or two) are similarly hounded - but for being too thin.
The point isn't really whether Nigella is on the point of becoming obese, or whether Keira will fall down the next cattle grid she tries to cross, but instead whether or not any of the rest of us can have confidence in our own bodies if we constantly see famous women who are supposed to be beautiful being pulled to pieces in front of us. I recently saw a photo of a pregnant model in a newspaper, next to an article which gleefully emphasised how fat she was looking and how unflattering her outfit was. Well, she's hardly going to be looking skinny and sylphlike, is she? She's pregnant! And then the next week I read on the BBC website about how many women worry about the amount of weight they gain during pregnancy and how much pressure they feel under to regain their pre-baby weight and fit back into their old jeans within five minutes of giving birth. Only a fool would fail to notice this obvious link. And one of the many reasons why I prefer 'Good Housekeeping' to 'Closer' is that the former never seems to feel the need to publish exclusive interviews with the latest celeb mummy in which she smugly shares with the world her 'tips' for instantly losing three stone following the birth of her latest child. How can this achieve anything other than making the rest of us feel inadequate and encouraging us to panic?
And it's not just weight, either. Much as I think Trinny and Susannah have a point about differing body shapes and dressing appropriately, they are also insidiously training us to size up other women and find them wanting from a style point of view. I occasionally find myself mentally redressing people, treating them to a more flattering haircut and plucking their eyebrows, before remembering that I'm effectively judging them on appearance when actually they might have a perfectly good and time-consuming reason for not caring about the way they look, like having to care for an elderly parent. And although I think India Knight in The Times talks a huge amount of sense ninety-nine times out of a hundred, her column today on Pregnancy When You're Past It (ie over about 35) seemed a bit narrow-minded to me. Yes, there are hundreds of career women who deliberately postpone having children until their late thirties or early forties in order to climb the career ladder and buy a spectacular house, but there are plenty of other potentially wonderful mothers who have no choice but to leave it until then, because they haven't met the right man, can't afford it or are just struggling to conceive. Labelling such women as selfish will do nothing for their already fragile self-esteem. And, as I've said before, some of the things written about Kate McCann since the summer simply beggar belief.
Heather Mills famously ranted on GMTV last month that 4,400 abusive articles have been written about her. I'm not entirely keen on the woman, but even so that seems like enough to drive anyone to hit back at the world in general; I don't imagine an equivalent number of encouraging and supportive columns have appeared in the British media since she married Paul McCartney. And I haven't been watching the latest series of Strictly Come Dancing but it was impossible not to be aware of the vitrolic tirades that were launched at Kate Garraway in the media until she was voted off last week. She may not be Darcey Bussell, but at least she had a go, and it's hardly her fault that the public voted to keep her in week after week. So why all the criticism? Are we jealous, perchance?
Teachers are encouraged to say five positive things for every one negative to children in the classroom, and although this may seem to be rather a Pollyanna approach to education, wouldn't it be nice if the same applied in the adult world? I reckon if we all tried make a point of telling friends and colleagues if they're wearing a colour that really suits them, or if we notice something good that they've done or something nice about them, instead of doing as the Daily Mail does and pointing out the gorgeous mature model Twiggy's unairbrushed crow's feet and comparing pictures of her 'au naturel' with touched-up M&S advertisements and bemoaning how the mighty have fallen, we might - gasp! - end up with a nation of women in possession of a healthy level of self-regard. And wouldn't that be something?
posted by fiona @ 16:08
