We all know pop culture doesn’t always depict average people’s lives or inner thoughts realistically. Unless Pink or Alanis Morrisette have new music out, mainstream pop music doesn’t much reflect the realities of my life. No matter how catchy a song like “Problem” or “Fancy” might be, they are pure sonic sugar. So, when I first saw the music video for Meghan Trainor’s song “All About That Bass,” it was exciting: not only were her retro outfits totally cute, but her song was straight up body-positive. Trainor sings about accepting and loving her curves, not being a size two and realizing the images she sees in magazines have been Photoshopped and aren’t real. As a curvy lady — hips, boobs, butt, all of it — this was exciting to hear in one of summer’s top pop songs.
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British student/artist Eleanor Beth Haswell, 18, made the anatomically correct underthings as part of her senior high school project called “Why Are You So Afraid Of Your Own Anatomy,” about the ways in which women are scared and uncomfortable with their own bodies. But as some of the reaction to the underwear, which labels the various parts of the vulva and vagina, has, uh, underscored, women are not the only ones who can be squicky about their anatomy. “Laughable,” complained one (male) Twitter user. “Something of a buzzkill,” wrote another. And of course, “I just can’t.” Yeah, I bet you can’t, dude. Sadly, this bra and underwear set isn’t available for purchase, otherwise they’d be at the top of my panty drawer, ready to be pulled out the next time someone needed a lesson in female anatomy. (See a few more shots after the jump!) [Buzzfeed] Keep reading »
“I haven’t worked out in a couple of months because I just didn’t feel like it. But now I’m going on vacation and I know what they’re going to do — [the tabloids] are going to put a circle around my ass and do one of those crazy magnified pictures saying, ‘What happened to her ass? It’s a bag of cheese. I would just like to say it’s a fine triple crème brie! Right when they zoom in I should have a tattoo on my ass that says, ‘You wish you could get a bite of this.’”
Haters, take note: Sharon Stone does not give a damn what you think about her ass. I can’t imagine how much it would suck to have to anticipate gossip rags’ reaction to your beach vacation — just having to deal with being tagged in unflattering Instagram photos is annoying enough! She pretty much told E! News that the tabloids can suck it, because her body is just fine as it is. [Jezebel] [Photo: Getty Images]
Here are all the things I know about my body: My angular face no longer gains weight at the same rate that the rest of my body does, so when I gain weight my head looks smaller even though everything else looks about right in ratio to each other. I have proportionately very large thighs, and specifically proportionately very large quadriceps. My hamstrings and calves aren’t as developed. My ankles are likewise really wide. I have splayed breasts and my nipples don’t point quite forward. My rib cage is just about as wide as my hips. My hips are very wide. My butt has a pretty round shape but it doesn’t sit very high and I still don’t know if that can change via infinite squats (or if I care?). I have thin fingers but knobby knuckles. I have wide shoulders. My upper arms have some heft, so when they’re flat to my sides they splay out a little. My toes curl into each other. The tops of my feet are kind of hairy. I have a genuinely big-boned frame. The way I carry fat on my body has changed significantly in the last 10 years. I bloat up the week before my period. My skin never tans, it just gets sort of burnished. My legs are short for my height. I’m 70 inches tall, I weigh 176 pounds, and I have 24 percent body fat.
None of these things are criticisms — well, none of them are criticisms anymore. I spent the larger part of my life avoiding looking in the mirror, and when I did, I would only catch glances. It’d be a glance here at my legs, a glance there at my arms. It was always part of a subconscious effort to compare a part of my body to a part of someone else’s body — not just celebrities, but women I’d see walking down the street. So I only knew about my body the things that didn’t match up to someone else. Keep reading »
Created by writers Robin Rice and Lisa Meade, the Stop The Beauty Madness campaign aims to shake women out of the belief that they are not beautiful and to wake us up to the impossible aesthetic standards we’re held up to. The ads, which can be seen here, state some not-so-pretty truths about the way our culture perceives women. Like the photo above, they’re not exactly pleasant realities, but the campaign’s choice to present them without sugarcoating strikes me as very bold. Few body acceptance campaigns are as direct and brutally honest as this one — and that’s the point. Stop The Beauty Madness wants to create a better world for women’s worth than the one we currently live in, and has even put together a free 10-week audio series that will encourage listeners to better understand unfair beauty standards and the road to self-acceptance. More information about the campaign is available on its website or on Twitter via the hashtag #StopTheBeautyMadness. [The Gloss]