the strange power of the victoria's secret swimsuit catalog

Bra shopping is second only to jeans shopping in its ability to make you feel terrible about your body and convinced that you must be deformed to fit so badly into mass-manufactured clothes...which is why I order almost all of my bras online, from Victoria's Secret. Yes, I know they use sweatshops and abuse photoshop (BADLY OMG) and their PINK line is sometimes just damn ugly (though comfy), but I can rely on most of their bras to fit me pretty well and I can try them on in the comfort of my own room, instead of in a dressing room, being hounded by the overly helpful attendant. All this to say: I get an absurd amount of VS catalogs in my wee college mailbox.

how are you reallll?

And on Monday, their first swimsuit catalogue for the summer of 2011 arrived. Cue the temporarily plummeting of my self-esteem.

Even with the knowledge that these photos are ridiculously photoshopped (see above link, people), even knowing full well that these women are paid to look good and that's all (whereas I am paid to do things!), even given my personal battles with body image and knowing that by now I've fully earned the right to not give a damn what I look like in a bikini...the VS swimsuit catalog holds this strange power over me. 

I find myself scrutinizing the pictures, practically drooling over their abs, then turning to the mirror and wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong that I don't have that kind of definition, why I don't hit the gym harder, why I'm so fucking short, why I'm not that tan, why my stretch marks show, why why why.


To answer that, I turn to a silly forward email from one of my aunts (one of those forwards that references events that probably never happened, but I like the sentiment): 
Recently, in a large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:

THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?
A middle-aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:
Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans).  They have an active sex life; they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales.  They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp.  They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia. Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs.  They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans. They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don't exist.  If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis.  Fish or human?  They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them not to mention how could they have sex?  Therefore, they do not have kids either. Not to mention, who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.

By no means do I consider myself (at least when I am being rational, and after I have put down the VS catalog) a whale or even overweight. I am pretty goddamn normal, and honestly, that's fantastic. I've got great boobs, a nice butt, thick thighs, fantastic hair, and (most importantly) a brain that is something not to be fucked with underneath that hair. A brain that allows me to reflect on all the things my body and heart and soul can do that have jack shit to do with how I look in a bikini. A brain that allows me to note that looking good in a bikini does not mean looking like Alessanda Ambrosio, it means looking healthy and happy and happy with yourself. A brain that recognizes that I never could look like Alessandra anyway, unless I grew half a foot and became Brazilian. A brain that reminds me I can construct my own beauty ideals. Sometimes. When I remove the bad influences and step away from the images of photoshopped models. Which we should probably all do.

Do you have anything that, despite its ridiculous nature, wrecks your confidence? How do you combat it?

Much love,
The Sheriff

PS-FF is cross-posted today on Beauty Schooled, which is a fantastic blog about the beauty industry and the price we pay for the products we use (both literally and in terms of the chemicals in them, the effects of ads, etc.). You should check it out!