I want to blog about the Marie Claire article, but I won't. I refuse. I won't do it.
I won't do it, but I want to do it.
What I would say, if I were to blog about it, is that everyone IS beautiful and why the hell is it so hard for certain people to get their heads around that? It's not a new idea. It's as old as time. Wait until you've been alive for a long time. Wait until you've seen life-changing kindness. Wait until you see what really matters, what people are capable of, the amazing capacity people have for love.
Then you'll know. The things that matter are not our appearances. We are more than a sum of our features. We are more than the number on the scale, than the size of our jeans, than the symmetry of our faces. We are so much more.
In the meantime, fashion magazines like Marie Claire survive and thrive because you believe that you aren't good enough. If you thought you WERE good enough, you wouldn't buy what they are selling. What their advertisers are selling. They need to remind you that you sort of hate yourself. I get that. (Although usually it's a bit more subtle than telling you that you're "gross".) If you really thought you were OK, maybe you wouldn't need their diet products and assorted other beauty "cures".
And the bottom would fall out of the magazine industry.
Who would tell us that we're fat and ugly and Not Good Enough?
So I call bullshit. I do. I said I wasn't going to blog about it and here I am blogging about it. IT. I won't link to it. The page hits are making the editors at that magazine a little too happy and a little too smug. They should be hanging their heads in shame and hoping they won't be fired.
They won't be fired. They've generated page hits. They've pleased their advertisers.
Magazines are owned by corporations. Corporations do not answer to you and your 100,000 negative tweets and your 28,000 emails. Corporations answer to shareholders. Shareholders want to see profit. Advertisers want eyes seeing their ads. Advertisers pay EXACTLY for what Marie Claire has just done: generated enough controversy that everyone is seeing their ADS.
THAT is what they care about. Period. End of sentence.
No corporation in the world cares that you (and I) are disgusted by Maura Kelly's opinion about fat people. They just don't care. A lot of people are writing a lot of things about this article, me included. We are hoping that someone human in the corporation will take it back. Someone will say, "Not only are we sorry, but we're WRONG. You are beautiful, no matter what size you are." After all, where is the humanity?
NOT in the corporate boardroom, I can guarantee that.
So we're left shouting on social media, refuting on our blogs, trying to stop Maura Kelly from making millions of Americans, young and old, believe that they are too gross to deserve to EVEN WALK ACROSS A ROOM. And she is WRONG. She and the magazine she represents are so so so so wrong. And it's really heartening to see the hundreds of thousands of people who are willing to tell them that. There's the beauty, right there.
I said I wasn't going to blog about it, but I did. Now I feel better. I have a lot more to say than this, but I'm not going to say it. All press is good press, as they say, and Marie Claire has had enough press. And I am just one more person who will never buy or read their magazine again.
Just another drop in the bucket. I hope it's a big bucket. Lots of us are dropping in there.
I bought a lawn mower today. I haven't mowed the lawn since May and since May, I've tried to get our old lawnmower fixed a thousand different times and now it's the end of October and I've officially given up hope for the old machine and our house is starting to look like a place where someone died and was eaten by their myriad cats and who hasn't been missed yet.
I was going to blog about buying a lawn mower. Maybe tomorrow, I'll blog about mowing the lawn instead of commenting on society's cruelty to itself. But actually, I have some things to say about Dove and Unilever and body image, too. We'll see. Probably better if I blog about the lawn.