Hi friend,
To start us off, I'm drawing on your collective knowledge. Reader K. is looking for a weight-inclusive surgeon in Connecticut for a complex hernia. The condition is affecting their quality of life and they've been turned down once by a surgeon who told them to just lose weight.
K. is also willing to travel to nearby states as a last resort, though isn't sure if their insurance would cover it in that case. If you have any surgeon suggestions, please reply and I'll pass them on to K.
Now, for this week's letter:
I first wrote this piece in November 2020, but it unfortunately hasn't lost any of its relevance, as Donald Trump continues to be in the news.
(For folks outside the U.S., feel free to swap in any larger-bodied politician of relevance.)
A perennial problem is cropping up yet again: the fatphobia of the American left. This time, as often in the past six years, itâs in the form of making fun of Donald Trumpâs appearance. (And not just his body size.) Fatphobia is a disease among the American left/progressives/liberals and it has to stop.
So hereâs a little Q&A based on conversations Iâve seen and had lately.
"I think the reason why we continue to see people use 'obese' as an insult to Trump is that being fat is supposed to be politically disqualifying. Fat people are supposed to be systematically shut out of all forms of structural power." » Ali Thompson (@artists_ali), seen on Twitter
âHeâs a terrible person, he deserves to be made fun of.â
When you use public figuresâ body size or appearance (yes, even the fake tan. yes, even whatever attribute you think is funniest. yes, even when the public figure is truly horrible.) as an insult, that person will never hear you or be affected by it.
But your fat friends and your friends who donât perfectly match cultural beauty standards (thatâs all of them, and probably you, too) will hear it, and theyâll know what you really think about them and their bodies.
âBut when I make fun of Trump, Iâm not talking about YOU, fat friend.â
See above, my friend.
âBut I donât consider fat or o* to be an insult when Iâm talking about YOU.â
Then why is it suddenly an insult when itâs describing someone you donât like? Either fatness is bad or itâs not.
âFine, I wonât talk about his weight, but his tan is so fake and bad!â
Weight stigma isnât the only -ism out there.
âBut itâs practically makeup!â
Where do we learn that men wearing makeup is bad and worthy of ridicule? Why do we consider women who donât wear makeup to be mannish, and men who do to be sissies? The patriarchy, which teaches us gender roles and enforces toxic masculinity.
âBut they donât even match his skin tone, itâs ridiculous.â
Where do we learn that there is a narrow range of makeup application and technique that looks ârightâ and that anything outside that is wrong? Why is a dramatic cat-eye (on a person with the appropriately feminine gender presentation) admirable, where a kabuki mask of spray tan is laughable?
Why is a (young, thin, white) woman whoâs been photoshopped into china-doll flawlessness #goals, but an older woman whoâs put on way too much eyeshadow is a farce? What is too little? What is too much?
These opinions are so deeply ingrained in us that, like fatphobia, they can be really uncomfortable to pull out and examine. We know âtoo littleâ and âtoo muchâ when we see it because those rules have been ingrained in us, just like rules around food and bodies, from the time we could first absorb them in:
- Makeup and skincare ads
- The media, TV, magazines, movies
- Family and friends
- The beauty regimens of people around us
- Multi-level marketing makeup companies and reps
- Makeup tutorials
- Social media influencers
The current style is for makeup and other skin-altering substances to look ânatural,â which as a photographer, I find pretty funny myself. (I assure you that flawlessly smooth skin with no acne, no wrinkles, no visible pores and no other marks is not ânaturalâ at all for human beings.)
So if Trump were to do his spray tan âright,â in a way where you didnât notice the edges as much and the color were closer to his actual skin tone, he would more successfully comply with the current beauty standards.
And I can also assure you that beauty standards constantly shift, partly because it does entangle us in constant policing of ourselves and each other (and partly because itâs very, very profitable to create changing standards we must constantly buy more things to meet).
I assure you that if, at some point in the future, a person or company with enough power decides that it should be fashionable (and profitable) to wear hard-edged masks of heavy makeup, suddenly youâll be looking just like Trump does today and scrambling to make those edges even more clear-cut with whatever tool is being sold to do it with.
But why are we, especially those of us who claim to be interested in ending oppression of all kinds, so tied up in current beauty standards in the first place? Why are we doing the patriarchyâs work for it?
âThen what about his hair?â
Where do we learn what âappropriateâ or âattractiveâ hair for men looks like? Where do we learn what is transgressive? Where do we learn that thinning hair and dyed hair and combovers are âbad?â
Itâs toxic masculinity that teaches us that having hair that doesnât match current beauty standards for men is not only wrong, but humorous. (Because, of course, having someone laugh at you feminizes you and removes your power.)
âWell, okay, but the well-done steak with ketchup thing is still pretty funny.â
*massages temples*
Okay. Letâs talk about classism. If you havenât encountered the concept of classism, itâs âprejudice against or in favor of people belonging to a particular social classâ according to the Oxford Dictionary. In the United States, at a cultural level, this is expressed as anything seen as âhigh classâ being glorified and âlow classâ vilified. (Because, of course, we are all temporarily embarrassed millionaires.)
Classism infuses many of our beliefs about how we and others âshouldâ act and look. To go back to Trumpâs hair and tan for a moment: Beauty standards are deeply tied into class and class performance. Since wealthy people often have more resources to devote to meeting (and setting) beauty standards, we associate wealth and high class with:
- Thinness
- Able bodies
- Smooth skin
- Good hair that is smooth and shiny
- High-quality and well-cut clothing
- Well-done makeup
(See how many of the items in the list depend on you knowing it when you see it, or otherwise have value judgments attached in their very language?)
And when we see someone, like Trump, who doesnât perform his socioeconomic class âcorrectly,â we instinctively find it both wrong and hilarious. (See also: celebrity weight gain articles)
But appearance isnât the only place where class performance matters. Letâs talk about food.
Whole volumes could be written about class performance and food, so letâs focus on two issues here: steak and ketchup.
âSo whatâs up with the steak?â
Steak is currently seen as a high-class food. (I say âcurrentlyâ because, like beauty standards, fashionable foods change over time, too. The culinary field has a long history of taking poor-folks food and âelevatingâ it, often making it inaccessible to the people who survived on it in the process.) But well-done meat is a low-class marker.
Steak tartare? High class.
Hamburger? Low class.
The inherent class contradiction of well-done steak is what we find funny, because contradiction is a central element of comedy itself. Heâs super rich, but he does stuff that poor people do! He doesnât even know any better! Itâs hilarious! Get it?
âBut steak gets all dry and tough and loses its flavor when you cook it that much. And putting ketchup on it messes with the flavor.â
How much of your disdain for well-done meat has to do with actual personal preference, and how much with your own performance of class? What foods do you enjoy that others might consider not well prepared, or low class? Do you want people making fun of you about those?
Making judgment calls on other peopleâs food preferences is not okay, period. Not only because youâre enforcing classist standards on other people, but also because youâre stomping on people who have sensory preferences and issues around foods, people with different cultural heritages around food and people whose tastes are just different from yours.
(On a personal note, I do like steak, and I like it well-done, for a number of reasons including the food I grew up with and sensory preferences. I havenât had a steak in probably 15 years because I donât enjoy it enough to deal with the inevitable comments about ordering it well done. I get enough food shaming just living in a fat body, thanks.)
Once again, youâre not punching up at Trump when you make fun of him. Youâre punching down at all your friends and family who arenât performing class as appropriately as youâd like.
âYouâre going to tell me something about class and ketchup now, arenât you?â
You betcha. While youâre already looking through a class lens, point it at the derision aimed at Trumpâs choice of ketchup for his steak. Ketchup is low class, so his choice of it is, once again, failing to perform his class in an approved manner.
(Both class and beauty dynamics are also deeply tied into racism. Thatâs not my lane, so I encourage you to seek out Black and BIPOC activists who are speaking about race and class.)
âCan I at least talk about him liking all that fast food?â
Do you hear yourself, friend? Rather than answer that Iâm going to point you back to everything else Iâve ever written about fatphobia.
âBut heâs got dementia, right? Can I talk about that?â
Why do you want to talk about this? Is it necessary? Can you do it in such a way that you are not, purposefully or inadvertently, increasing the stigma around aging and/or mental illness?
âTiny hands? Dick joke?â
*level gaze*
âBut heâs so mean and awful. He doesnât deserve my respect or for me to go high.â
But your friends and family do.
âSo thereâs nothing I can talk about in relation to his body and preferences I can make fun of?â
Nope. Maybe investigate why you want so badly to do this. One reason we put other people down is to reclaim or generate power for ourselves, to get some of our own back.
Itâs a completely understandable human impulse, but itâs also an impulse that in circumstances like these directly contributes to the marginalization and oppression of fat folks, women, poor people, people with mental illnesses and other already-marginalized people.
Remember when youâre trying to reclaim power from public figures by recreating oppressive dynamics that those public figures will never see or care what you think. You have no interpersonal dynamic or power with that person. They probably donât even know who you are.
The people who will see and care are the people you care about. And if youâre willing to intentionally smear more oppression all over them to gain a little bit of power yourself, well, please seek therapeutic help immediately because if you know better and refuse to do better, you need help before you continue to hurt others.
âThen what am I supposed to talk about?â
There are entire catalogs of truths to speak about Donald Trump that donât involve his body size or his aesthetic choices or personal preferences. Maybe start with the lies, or the children in cages. You donât need me to list them for you. Start with those. End with those.