Tagged: sexuality

Stop saying manorexia.

This post is written in response to this Daily Mail article and comments from WIWT founder Poppy Dinsey. I hope my tone doesn’t come across as too combative towards her, because I lav the Poppy. As for the mainstream reaction towards anorexia? All of the combative.

EDIT: To be clear, Poppy did not use and has never used the term ‘manorexia’; that’s something I came across in the Mail. Not sure whether or not it originated with them.

manorexia debate YSL

Of the caustic terms that permeate contemporary debate, ‘manorexia’ is one of the worst. Anyone who’s read this blog is probably already aware of my disdain for the term ‘metrosexual’ (read why here), but manorexia is ten times worse. Barring a couple of isolated examples (postnatal depression springs to mind), I fail to see what gender, race or class have to do with mental illness.

I’ve never really had any issues with my weight, but I can’t imagine it being easy for men to deal with having anorexia. It’s traditionally seen as a feminine illness, to the extent that the ‘ideal’ anorexic body conflicts directly with the traditional ‘masculine’ body, i.e. broad shoulders, muscular arms etc. In this way, anorexia not only others you from your gender, but also from your sexuality. I say this as weakness and limp wristed-ness has been historically (not to mention ridiculously) associated with homosexuality.

To go one step further and label their *version* of the disease as manorexia feels seems to completely trivialise it – it reeks of punny newspaper headlines and the idea that ‘it’s like what girls get, only different’. It’s on par with labelling someone’s depression as ‘a bit of a downer’, or calling sexual deviance ‘just a phase’.

Although newspaper columns, Twitter and website articles are awash with women, and men (myself included), highlighting the fact that the trend of calling curvy women ‘real women’ is not only ludicrous, all too many social media users seemed to misinterpret Poppy Dinsey when she tweeted the following:

Poppy Dinsey manorexia YSL tweet
Despite being directed at the fashion house rather than the model, Dinsey’s tweet led to many of her followers commenting that the model looks ‘disgusting’, something Poppy later protested about. She has since tweeted me remarking that she spends a lot of time arguing that all women are real women. It’s worth noting that my response is mostly motivated by the Daily Mail’s response to the story (link at the top of this post) and the issue in more general terms.

Yes, the fashion industry has traditionally been dominated by underweight models. However, does that mean that their presence should be outlawed? Once upon a time, religion was compulsory – does that mean that everyone should now be Atheist? Homosexuality was once illegal and regarded as a mental illness, does that mean everyone should be gay now? Jumping from one pole to another is never a sensible way to handle something, because it always comes across as disingenuous. Not to mention how impractical implementing either of the above would be…Admittedly, these debates aren’t quite the same thing, as there is a medical risk associated with being clinically underweight.

However, my problem with the ‘real women’ debate and the ‘banorexia’ (a term I think I’ve just invented) movement is that it insists that skinny people aren’t ‘real’. By excluding size zero models, the mainstream media creates the idea that anorexia/thinness is wrong. We’re already seeing this force the culture to move underground. I hesitate to use the term culture to describe a group of people who have what is still widely believed to be a mental illness, but that’s what’s happening – ‘pro ana’ blogs, tweeters and Instagram accounts collate anorexic imagery and intensify it by making it the only point of focus, which is far less healthy than a media that features all different body shapes.

female body shapes

Please don’t take from this post that I’m pro-anorexia, because that’s not the case. What I am tetchy about is labelling a skinny male model ‘shockingly’ thin and ‘disgusting’, especially given that we know nothing about his mental state or eating habits, because it drives a stake between people (who may already be on their way to looking like this boy) and normality. Whether their thinness is due to extreme dieting or their genes, they may feel that they have no choice but to embrace an increasingly toxic underground movement that promotes anorexia as aspirational and beautiful.

Of course, the big comeback to this is that allowing images of extremely thin people in the media distorts young people’s perception of beauty. While that may be true for a tiny minority who already have a predisposition to eatings disorders, it simply isn’t true for 99% of people. I had the following debate with Poppy on Facebook, which I think bears repeating here -

Screen shot 2013-01-21 at 20.14.43
Evidently, I am part of that 99% – yes, pictures of Taylor Lautner, Zac Efron and all those dudes on Abercrombie bags motivate me to hit the gym harder, but never to the extent that I’d start taking steroids or gulping down raw eggs every morning. I’m sure the same is true of most women – they might wish their face looked a bit more like Emma Stone’s, or their rack looked a bit more like Beyoncé’s, but they probably just…well, get on with things because sometimes eating half a tub of Ben and Jerry’s is more fun than going to the gym. Something I know from experience.

brad pitt fight club body
One day, Brad. One day.

So what will help that 1%, the people who are susceptible to images promoting extreme thinness? It’s definitely not labelling them ‘freaks’ or ‘disgusting’. Once we know for sure that someone’s emaciated state is caused by crash dieting, it’s time to raise the idea that they may have a problem. But just as you wouldn’t tell someone with depression to cheer up, this can’t be as simple as saying ‘eat something!’ As for exactly what the answer is, I’m not sure. If I did, I’d probably be writing this piece somewhere a lot cooler than my blog.

Fashion: Not Just For Girls

Unless you’re living under a rock, you’ve probably seen Brad Pitt as the new face of Chanel No. 5. If not, here it is:

The negative response the campaign has had from a lot of fashion bloggers and industry pundits doesn’t really surprise me. Responses tend to fall into one of two camps – ‘lol he looks like a tramp’ and ‘OMG, I LUFF BRAD’. In my opinion, both of these responses completely miss the point of the advert. I keep swinging between two responses of my own, and until all the constituent parts of the commercial are released I doubt I’ll be able to.

Theory number one – It’s worth stating that the second part of the new Chanel No. 5 movie (embedded above) still contains a ‘Chanel girl’ – positing Brad Pitt as the ‘star’ of the first advert then having him appear less in the second, his presence occasionally reduced to a mere voiceover, is indicative of the fact that the Chanel girl overshadows everything, even Brad Pitt. If I’m on the right track, the next part of the commercial will presumably feature even less of Pitt, perhaps leaving only his voice.

Theory number two (and the one I prefer) – To those who claim that Brad Pitt isn’t ‘a fit’ with Chanel, it should be pointed out that a big part of Chanel’s history is stripping away extravagant and overwrought aesthetics. Pitt’s masculine ‘au naturale’ look is a perfect contrast to Nicole Kidman’s OTT ‘I’m a daaancer’ advert. In this way, Pitt’s individualism and self confidence embody a masculine reworking of the Chanel girl. Pitt must have been aware that the advert would kick up controversy and parodies (…inevitable), but he did it anyway. Though the $7 million cheque in his pocket probably helped.

I’ve previously written about my experiences as a straight man in fashion (that post is probably still my favourite thing I’ve written on this blog), but recently I’ve noticed that things are changing. Pitt being chosen as the face of Chanel No. 5. David Beckham appearing on the cover of Elle Magazine. Articles appearing in this season’s Shortlist MODE supplement about men flirting with extravagant fashion.  All of these are indicative of the fact that the voice of straight men in fashion is getting louder.

I’ve long has issues with the word ‘metrosexual’ – it’s insulting to men, both straight and gay. It designates fashion and grooming as being inherently feminine, thus associating homosexuality with being somehow girly or sissy. It also implies that men with an interest in fashion are a bit ‘wrong’ and can’t really be straight, so they need to be labelled something else. This is incredibly damaging to young straight men who are interested in fashion in that it can lead them to question their sexuality and identity. Weirdly, the show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy actually went a long way towards dispelling myths about homosexuality – the contrast between Carson and Jai’s tendency towards effeminacy and Thom, Ted and Kyan’s fairly masculine natures served as a reminder that homosexuality and femininity aren’t mutually exclusive. Excusing the odd joke about checking the straight guys out in the shower, the Queer Eye guys were never really that ‘gay’ – they’re just well groomed, stylishly dressed men who happen to sleep with men.

Something that appears in most fashion magazines that really frustrates me is the ever present ‘ask the bloke’ section. The name and aim may vary from mag to mag, but there is inevitably a column in which men offer up their opinion on trends only to be picked apart by industry experts. The whole experience is not only incongruous – Page 4: Laugh at what these ridiculous men said about mullet skirts!! Page 6: How to keep a man interested by dressing slutty!! – but also incredibly distasteful. There have been a couple of occasions where people have made remarks to me like ‘interesting opinion, for a guy’. I’m not one to get on a soapbox, but if wolf whistling at women and comments about how women don’t understand the offside rule aren’t ok, then neither are articles about hot guys we wish had fashion blogs (ok, ok, not quite a fair comparison, plus the article is much less shallow that the title suggests) or the assumption that a man’s opinion on fashion is less valuable than a woman’s.

But lately, the tide has been turning. I’ve done a couple of freelance styling projects (no mega-brands, just some chilled out advice) recently and was told that I was picked not only because of my honesty and frankness, but also because I have a solid opinion on most trends. This is something a lot of fashion bloggers seem to lack – they sit on the fence until a consensus has been reached about whether or not something is ‘in’ (usually relying on Company Magazine to declare it so) before they play their hand. As anyone who reads this blog knows, I’ll always happily put my cards on the table. ‘Do you think that’s because I’m a guy?’ I asked a friend I was helping to pick out an outfit. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I think it’s because you have good instincts, and I trust them.’ Then I made a joke about us not being on an after-school special and we went back to chugging white wine spritzers.

Fashion is becoming more ‘unisex’ in other ways too – I was recently at the My Celebrity Fashion relaunch in Hoxton, and got quite a shock when I left. ‘Let me grab you one of the men’s gift bags!’ chirped a smiley PR lady. A MEN’S GIFT BAG. Granted, the only difference is that it had a tie in as well as the other stuff, but still! Since then I’ve been to a couple of events where they’ve had gift bags for the men in attendance as well as the women, but kudos to MCF for being the first one that I encountered.

Of course, revolution isn’t just about attitudes; even clothes themselves are changing to blur the lines of gender in fashion. Take, for example, Karl Lagerfeld’s recent capsule collection for Selfridges, differentiated only by fit. Other than that, both the guys’ and girls’ versions are identical -

Maybe that’s the revelation here. I frequently joke that I’m the only straight male fashion blogger in the world, but the world is changing. Teenage boys all over the world are opening copies of Vogue (which might just as easily be their own as their girlfriend’s, boyfriend’s or mother’s), think ‘that’s a beautiful dress’ and not feel the need to question their identity or their sexuality. What a time that will be.

Coming Into The Closet.

The following are all things that have been said to me at, or regarding my presence at, fashion events:

  • ‘Oh yeah, you and room full of women, bet I know why you like that so much!’
  • ‘Doesn’t your girlfriend ever get jealous of you hanging around with all these fashion girls? If she does, give me a call.’
  • ‘I hope the boys who are coming know this is about blogging, not picking up chicks.’
  • ‘Here you go mate, have a few extra free drinks tokens if you’re going to be stuck up there all night.’ (Ok, admittedly this was actually pretty nice of this guy to offer, even if it was misguided)
  • ‘Sorry, tonight’s girls only!’
  • ‘So what’s actually your story? We all know there are no straight men in fashion.’

It’s an ongoing joke that there are ‘no straight men in fashion’, one that isn’t completely unfounded – aside from a few biggies like Oscar de la Renta, Christian Lacroix, Paul Smith and Tommy Hilfiger, I struggle to think of many straight male fashion designers. However, I’m not here to talk about straight fashion creators, rather straight male fashion enthusiasts and the discrimination they face.

I’ve been interested in fashion for as long as I can remember. Even as a boy (once I outgrew my penchant for oversized American sports jerseys and Big Dog t-shirts), fashion fascinated me because of the extent to which it pervades popular culture. In my teenage years, I devoured magazines like Vogue, Cosmo and InStyle, always making sure that I had an alibi for doing so – I would read them in the hairdresser’s because there was ‘nothing else to read’, or because I was ‘THAT bored’ in the sixth form common room. By the time I went to University, I had given up on quipping to cashiers that I was buying fashion magazines ‘for the girlfriend’ and gathered them with impunity. The common thread in all of this is that I knew (or at least, felt) that fashion wasn’t something I was supposed to be interested in. When male interest in fashion went mainstream, the term metrosexual was born. Of course, it’s worth noting that this term is still shrouded with a sense of ‘otherness’ – the implication is that men who like fashion, even if they aren’t gay, are still somehow different from their hetero brethren.

Since I started blogging more regularly about fashion, I’ve made some incredible friends who have welcomed me into the scene with open arms. However, they have been the exception, not the rule. The sad fact is that I feel alienated from much of the fashion community on a daily basis. I see new bloggers quickly becoming chummy with fashion PRs, being invited to events that I haven’t even heard about and being sent freebies, despite the fact that they’ve been on the scene for a matter of days. I’ve been pretty down about it recently and have found myself wondering if I’m just a really unlikeable person – I can be pretty self-centred and come across as fairly obnoxious, so before I made any generalisations I decided to see if this is just my problem. Thankfully, I quickly found out that it isn’t.

I spoke to a lot of male fashion bloggers, some straight and some gay, and most of them told me that they’ve all had similar experiences. Arash Mazinani told me that he believes that ‘in my limited experience, I’ve found that gay men are welcomed more warmly by bloggers’ and that despite having previously worked at a big high fashion department store ‘I’ve never been invited to their local fashion events when other female bloggers in my city have, which I was a bit disappointed by.’ Joseph Kent, of Unlimited by JK (which I love, by the way), told me that he’s “found it difficult as a male fashion blogger in gaining followers and being noticed by brands/PR companies etc.” He describes it as “rather a blow, because more than just having fun at these events, I’m trying to further my career into fashion journalism by networking and building relationships.” Even after a year of knowing Joseph, a lot of people on his journalism course thought he was gay (he isn’t), with one remarking that “I know you’re straight, but I find it hard to believe, because you have such a good fashion blog.”

Speaking with one gay male fashion blogger, who asked not to be identified, was a particularly interesting experience. He told me that women, particularly fashion bloggers, almost immediately start cooing when they meet him because they’re desperate for a gay best friend. However, he told me that “they soon lose interest, as I act quite differently depending on the people I’m mingling with. It’s like as soon as we’re not at an event, I’m not gay enough for them anymore.” He poignantly described this experience as being similar to his coming out – “Sure, it was tough at school when everyone found out I was gay. Everyone seemed to forget about it after a while, then when I didn’t expect it someone would make a joke or generalisation and it would come right back to the surface. It’s the same with some of these girls – we might not have talked in ages, but when they need the token homo opinion on something that’s when they pick up the phone.” He also told me about the way in which he feels he has become a parody of himself – “I do sometimes think about whether the things I’m saying are ‘gay enough’. It gets to me sometimes, and I end up questioning my whole identity.”

In recent years the mainstream media has done little to help break stereotypes of gay and straight men – while shows like Sex and the City and Will and Grace romanticise the idea of the GBF, as if they’re a chihuahua in a handbag or some other bang on trend accessory, columns that ‘ask the straight bloke’s opinion’ feature footnotes by an (almost exclusively female) industry expert who rips their ideas to shreds and laughs at how wrong they are. Men are placed on a two point scale, with the lager swilling, football loving, boob honking caveman at one end and the immaculately groomed, purple suit wearing, flaming homosexual at the other. There seems to be a need to round off anyone who falls somewhere in the middle to one side or the other, which might explain why people seem shocked when they discover that, while I might use three different kinds of moisturiser and like to watch ballet, I’d give my left pinkie for a night with Kate Middleton. The fact that I don’t ‘fit’ with the traditional idea of the gay male fashion enthusiast immediately calls my motives into question, and tends to make girls think that I’m only there to get into their trousers. Whereas, actually, I’m probably just interested in looking at their trousers.

So, my point? Well, people say there are no straight men in fashion. Maybe they need to work a little bit harder at letting them in.