Kaitlyn Spangler
ENGL 137H
Professor Babcock
25 October 2012
From Thin to Thinner, Tight to Tighter, Woman to . . .
“All Beyonce and JLo have done is add to the laundry list of attributes women must have
to qualify as beautiful. Now every girl is expected to have Caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips,
a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long
Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old
boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits. The person closest to actually achieving this look
is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes.
Everyone else is struggling.”
-Tina Fey, Bossypants
Your stomach sags over the top of your jeans when sitting, and your underarms jiggle
like watery Jell-O if you flail your arms with excitement. Your inner thighs resemble the cottage
cheese on your salad. Your butt is too flat and droopy. You definitely should not have eaten that
chocolate swirl cupcake coated with fudge and sprinkles. Time to hit the gym.
It is so mindless to pick women apart. Bombarded by images of Victoria’s Secret
Angels, Vogue models, or professional female athletes, women are held to strict and intensified
standards in terms of physical fitness. It is a constant game of cat and mouse, an undying
struggle for consistent bodily perfection. The average woman is expected to dedicate an
unquantifiable fraction of her day to burning calories and tightening muscles, whether in a frantic
rush for bikini season or to squeeze into that fitted black cocktail dress. There is always some
reason. Yet, how did it become this crazed compulsion for slenderness? Were women were
thrust into this active world without consent or representation? Or did they go willingly?
Since the 1960s, exercise and its influence on the ideal female body has become increasingly
competitive, meticulous, and oppressive to women, as the promotional media and standards of
expectations continue to expand in size and influence.
The body is expressive; it serves as a projection of one’s ancestral heritage, genetic
makeup, personal interests, emotions, the miracle of nature, and so forth. Through manipulating
a synthesis of elements, each body is its own (Synott 34). Thus, it is a woman’s unique chance
and responsibility to use this template as an accurate representation of her inner self. Whether
through hair, makeup, facial expression, clothes, shoes, or, namely, the physical body, women
use these facets to comprise their own version of self. The physical body is expected to reflect
one’s level of discipline, effort, and power with regard to fitness. It provides an aesthetic to
study the correlation between power and gender, between liberation and constraint (Maguire).
Such excessive emphasis on the feminine appearance illuminates this growing obsession with
attaining physical perfection because it is often one of the first judgments one will be subject to.
Consequently, on top of an apparent and fanatical “calorie phobia” among women and their
dietary habits, exercise retains similar influence on their pathological behavior. It stood as a
means of weight loss in the 1960s, and with rising rapidity, the manipulation of the female ideal
exceeded reason, rationality, or constraint.
As Kenneth Cooper, MD, promoted over 40 years ago, exercise was supposed to be a
primary source of improving bodily appearance. By introducing the concept of aerobics, he
advised that one should partake in physical activity to better one’s looks, while reaping the
benefits of increased fitness and health (Markula). Local health clubs, like YMCA’s and gyms,
began to see increased participation in activities, such as jogging or swimming, until 1972, when
Title IX was passed to allow equal rights for women and men in sports. Following suit, a boom
in collegiate and professional women’s athletics commenced a cultural phenomenon and thriving
business to boot (Verbrugge). Disciplines like kinesiology, reproductive endocrinology, and
physiology headlined this accumulating craze, publicizing the multiple benefits to an active
lifestyle. Research and studies continued to release fresh and innovative news, including the
multiple threats to reproductive and menstrual health arising in the onset of the 1970s. However,
these criticisms did not last long with an activity that promoted health and vitality while
simultaneously upholding that balanced harmony of patriarchy and feminism? Enter Jane Fonda,
Kathy Smith, and Self, Health, or Shape magazine.
The emergence of aerobics gained its momentum in the onset of the 1980s. Defined as
repetitive movements using isolated areas of the body that have been identified as “target areas,”
it promotes the “look good, feel great” ideology. Expanding upon the notion of health and
fitness, aerobics served as a way to regain control over one’s body, to persist along an intense
exercise regime, and witness gradual process (Maguire 114-115). Jane Fonda, at the forefront of
this movement in her bright leotards and high-spirited motivation, convinced women to join her
in her classes and videotapes to experience the magic of exercise. She, along with others like
Kathy Smith, defined aerobics as a means of self-empowerment and a path to the “perfect body”
for all willing women. She states, “There are not short cuts. No sweatless quickies. You must be
committed to working hard, sweating hard and getting sore. You have to work for it.” (Markula
9). Coincidentally, magazines such as Self began to push their way to the front of the scene with
the attention of women looking for advice on how to exercise properly and well (Markula).
These magazines, like Health, Women’s Sport and Fitness, and Shape were the most convenient
resource to spread the constructed image women were to strive for. They splashed their pages
with women of a sleek and slender build, participating in aerobic exercises and fulfilling all
requirements of being “physically fit.” With a captive audience at the ready, their manipulated
version of a real women swept the consciousness of all females struggling to be fit; the
availability of the public self convinced women of varying shapes and sizes to yearn for one,
common goal: the slender imperative. This imperative was rooted in the universal desire to be
thin for all women, but began to embrace the concept of toning.
Toning is a focus on specific muscle groups to progress toward an isolated goal. Not
only is it hard and boring, but it targets areas that are not necessary to improve for everyday
chores. Instead, these magazines and other media claiming the liberty to dictate the female ideal
began to identify “trouble spots” to focus on: abs, thighs, underarms, and butt. With a real drive
from the early 1980s, toning was a way to build thin, lean muscles without crossing over into the
bulky muscle territory. It manages to disassociate a body part from its functional role to alter it
for a more aesthetic appeal. Yet, toning was meant to be a simple, effective, and easy way for
the busiest of women to “hit” areas of particular problems. This appeal of toning specific
muscles assumes two pretenses: that women must look good, and that the body one currently has
is already imperfect. Under these assumptions, women lose themselves in the obsessions to rid
their bodies of fat. By completing Jane Fonda’s “Lower Body Solution” from 1992, a woman
could feel catered to because this program targeted the abs, buns, and thighs, the number one
problem spots. Too much muscle is masculine, but well-toned arms and legs are traits frequently
noticed by men (Markula). This aestheticism over functionality carried right through into the art
of bodybuilding.
As bodybuilding gained its popularity, an array of controversial opinions about it arose.
Some saw it as a deviation from the feminine norm, in that it specialized in building muscle,
becoming bulky, and opposing the goal of “toning.” Yet, others failed to see anything but an
activity of female sexual objectification in which their levels of bulkiness still required to fit
within a societal norm (Maguire). This dichotomy between empowerment and constraint
illustrates the ongoing struggle in the realm of exercise. One must ask if exercise is a single
minded goal or if women do indeed celebrate their own figures over the imposition of mass
media.
Throughout the 20th century, exercise began to gain such increasing speed and popularity.
All women wanted to join to lose weight, feel good about them, and prove their efforts in their
body. Yet, once the standard was set for physical perfection, namely Jane Fonda and her fellow
aerobicizers, the only direction to go was up. The bar was set with its intensification through
multiplying numbers of followers, in which the mimetic ideal is defined. Since exercise became
a public spectacle for all to see and strive for, everyone wanted to become better, faster, stronger,
thinner, etc. Leading up to modern day, the competitive dimension of fitness escalated into,
arguably, an infatuation (Siebers 183). Eating disorders sky rocketed, in which one third of the
female student population suffer from in some degree, exercise has expanded into countless
different specialized forms for women, and levels of competition continue to rise. Exercise
snowballed into a psychological battle with one singular goal: to eliminate unwanted calories.
Women, with their supposed radical freedom, force themselves to struggle through pain,
excruciation, and sweat to recreate a “hell” that can be reflected on their bodies. Those chiseled
abs, rippling legs, and toned, sexy arms tell a story of each time a woman persevered.
Although this raging increase in exercise can coincide with a promotion of outdoor living
and harmony, it enslaves a woman to the subjection of others’ opinions. Areas of stored fat that
used to embody womanhood, like round bellies and full breasts, now resemble weakness and
lack of discipline. Those love handles are a constant physical reminder of that cake you should
not have eaten. In this new mentality, we, ourselves, are our fiercest critic and strongest enemy
(Siebers 181-182). Thus with the readiness of media and the willingness of women to be
subjected to such imprisonment, exercise has transformed into a mass confusion of feminine
liberation and oppression. Each woman wants to be slender, thin, and fit to either feel good or
please the male psyche. This achievement is made through cutthroat competition, hard work,
and a submission to the standardized ideal that homogenizes and normalizes all women into
coercive sameness (Thornham 102-103).
Exercise is not inherently misled. Being active, staying healthy, and feeling good does
not necessarily imply a subconscious, or conscious, desire to look like an anorexic supermodel.
Yet, the shift from where it started to where it is now is frightening. Beginning as a new and
enthralling technique to lose some weight and reap health benefits, it has now seized the minds
of a majority of women. It dictates the construction of magazines, television shows, celebrities,
and all other forms of public advertisement to reinforce the ideal all women should strive for.
Even with the conscious acknowledgement that you may not achieve such bodily perfect, women
incessantly torture themselves to try, to discipline enough, starve enough, and sweat enough to
rid all fat from the body. Each inch of skin emanates perseverance and mental toughness, yet the
overall figure falls right in line with the male desire. As the desired weight continues to decrease
with time and publicity, the future is frightening. How long will it be until femininity grabs
ahold of its identity again? When will we be able to recognize natural health and differentiation
in body type of women? How much farther can we push?