Alors, French Models: "Bon Appetit"

We live in a world where size matters and less is more. As mothers of teenage girls, we're well-advised to keep our eyes on their eating habits. 

According to Eating Disorder Hope, an organization that "promotes ending eating disordered behavior, embracing life and pursuing recovery," as many as 50% of teen girls (and 30% of teen boys — really) use unhealthy weight control behaviors such as skipping meals, fasting, smoking cigarettes, vomiting, and taking laxatives to control their weight. And this behavior doesn't necessarily end when girls leave high school; 25% of women on college campuses binge and purge. 

My own daughter, I'm happy to say, doesn't have any of the above problems. She's an athlete and hungry ... well ... pretty much all the time. Don't get me wrong, she's no health food nut. In fact, you might even say she has a "love/hate relationship." She loves to snack all day and hates it when we're out of her favorites, like cookie dough, cheese poofs, and tortilla chips. Luckily she also craves more nutritious options like fresh fruit, steamed edamame, and chicken caesar salad. Otherwise, I might not win that "mother of the year" award I've been counting on.

Anyway ...

Society has sent adolescent girls mixed messages since long before my daughter — or even I — was born. Take popular magazines, for example. Editorial will warn against crash diets and then on the next page you'll see a model who looks like she's a heroine addict in a famine-stricken country who's had four of her ribs removed.

Not cool.

I don't expect the United States to do anything about it. After all, we don't exactly embrace regulations of any kind. (Don't get me started on gun control. More than 90,000 gun deaths since Newtown? I told you, don't get me started.) Common sense here takes a backseat to protecting our rights, partisan politics, and almighty commerce. But, it's with great interest that I've followed news coming out of France the last few weeks.

The so-called "Skinny Model Ban," passed into French legislation right before Christmas. It stipulates that models must have a doctor's note saying that they are of a healthy weight (technically with a BMI of 18 or higher). Advertisers that hire non-conforming models risk a 6-month prison sentence and a fine of 75,000 euros. In addition, if a photo of a model is edited to make her appear thinner, a disclaimer of "Retouched Photo" must accompany it. Failure to do so could incur a lesser but still significant fine of 37,500 euros.

As you can imagine, the outcry from France's fashion industry was swift and loud. Some threatened that the new law would drive design, photography, and publishing out of the country altogether. One stylist insisted that the new rules are body-shaming women with eating disorders and that garment sizes should be regulated rather than the people wearing them.

Regardless of the brouhaha, Frances is not the first country to address the dangerous epidemic of wasp-waisted runway waifs. Israel, Spain, and Italy have similar laws and the United Kingdom's Advertising Standards Authority has the right to ban ads that are "misleading, harmful and offensive." Apparently, images that tell young women that their goal should be zero percent body fat fall into that "harmful" category. I agree.

And, I wholeheartedly applaud France's efforts. The worlds of media, fashion, and publishing hold great influence over the self-image and subsequent behavior of their audiences — especially of pre-teens, teens, and young women. But, I also find it interesting in light of a strange dichotomy I've always observed about the French.

French women, in particular Parisian women, are noted for their sophistication and glamour and — especially — their thinness. In fact, Mireille Guiliano, former CEO of my favorite champagne Veuve Cliquot, wrote a bestselling book series about it: French Women Don't Get Fat ®.

Three years ago, my daughter and I spent an incredible week together in Paris. Here's what I remember about the beautiful city's beautiful women.

They were stylish.
I knew better than to wear my running shoes (bien sur!), but I still stood out as une americaine. Even my expensive embroidered flats couldn't compete with their sky-high heels. (And on cobblestones, wtf?)

They were smokers.
We're so used to nicotine-shaming our colleagues and neighbors here that it was rather a shock to see virtually everyone, old/young, male/female puffing away.

And they were impossibly thin.
How, one might ask, was this possible given that Paris has arguably the best and most delectable food available everywhere you look? How do French women resist soupe a l'oignon gratinee, des patisseries, coq au vin, boeuf bourguinon, or even a simple crepe from a street vendor?  


My daughter and I didn't care. After all, it just meant more for us. 
If you've enjoyed this post, I invite you to order the book Lovin' the Alien here.  

Dying to be Skinny

"I'm fat."

"My thighs are too big."

"I'd die to be skinny."

Our culture's obsession with weight — or, more accurately, the lack thereof — is really shameful. According to an estimate from the United Nations, there are 925 million undernourished people in the world today. The idea that we have enough food but choose to starve ourselves in order to fit into a smaller pair of jeans or look good on a red carpet is obscene.

The people who are most affected by this emaciation fixation are adolescents and young adults. With bodies changing, hormones raging, and anxiety about what the world (not to mention the cool table in the cafeteria) thinks of them, tween and teen girls are most vulnerable. So, what does the media do? It serves up image after image of sunken-eyed waifs with bones protruding where flesh should be. If a celebrity (a female celebrity, mind you, males aren't under the same scrutiny) gains five pounds, it's front page news. And, not in a good way.

The photos above are from an ad that was recently banned in the U.K. by the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA). The bikini that the scrawny girl is barely wearing is sold by Drop Dead clothing. An interesting brand name, given that their model looks like she's on her last legs and in desperate need of a last meal. The ASA called the ad "socially irresponsible." Hear, hear!

As the mother of a tween-going-on-teen, I worry about body image and eating disorders. My daughter is not happy with her figure — even though it's pretty perfect. She rides horses, and has for the past eight years, so she has fantastic quadriceps, hamstrings and glutes. And, it's not just her legs, she has great strength in what trainers obnoxiously refer to as "the core." (Really, I could do Pilates from now until doomsday and I wouldn't get close.) But, like all girls her age, she is hypercritical of her body.

Fortunately, she has a very healthy appetite and a pronounced sweet tooth. So, there hasn't been any talk of dieting. At least, not yet.

I remember my own junior high and high school days. Crash diets were all too common. There was the only-cucumbers diet, the only-plain yogurt diet, the only-bran muffins diet, the only-egg drop soup diet. I had friends who smoked to stay thin. I had friends who took laxatives. We all fasted. We all drank Tab, the bitterest diet soda ever invented. And, if there was any question about girls acting healthier once they went to college, all you had to do was visit the ladies room at one of the campus dining halls after a meal. Let's just say that an inordinate number of coeds were worshipping the porcelain god on a regular basis.

Pushing fifty, and dealing with a body that is changing again, I still have to remind myself that happiness and waistline are only related if I choose for them to be. We all know better now, right? Girls (and moms) should be encouraged to be strong, not skinny.

But, as Drop Dead's ad, and countless like it, demonstrates, the fashion and entertainment industry is still saying "Less is more."

Speaking of more ... I'm all for it. As in, more watchdog organizations need to recognize — and regulate — the images that create in our girls doubt at best and anorexia at worst. More advertisers need to accept responsibility for what they broadcast and promote. And, as consumers, more of us can vote with our wallets, boycotting stores or brands that tell our daughters that looking like a cadaver is attractive, sexy and desirable.

Anorexia nervosa is the number one cause of death among young women. In fact, the mortality rate for anorexia is higher than for any other psychological disorder. They say, "You can't be too rich or too thin." Tell that to all the girls who have literally died to be skinny.

Or tell their mothers.