Monica Bellucci, older women, sexuality and the media

The sexuality of older people is frequently denigrated and neglected. This is particularly true for women. People of all genders are taught a dogma of youth=beauty and marketed a multitude of products to fend off the effects of time. But whilst men become “distinguished” with age, women are touted botox in a bid to keep their partners from trading them in. 54-year-old George Clooney is still considered a sex symbol, Hugh Hefner surrounds himself with bikini-clad bunny girls and it’s not uncommon for women to talk lustily of “salt and pepper hair” and be-suited “silver foxes”. Where is our celebration of older women? Of grey hairs, lines around the eyes, ageing breast tissue and hot flushes? Women are encouraged to continue to remain looking youthful, or risk being deemed “ugly” and discarded. Meanwhile, men are taught to only see attractiveness in the young. Where does this leave us?

Ever see this gender-swapped?

Ever see this gender-swapped with an older woman?

Much has been made of the casting of Monica Bellucci in the latest Bond film, Spectre. The choice of the 51-year-old actress as a Bond Girl (or should that be, Bond Woman), a pedestal of sexual attractiveness, has been lauded as “ground-breaking” and a “triumph” for feminism. Should it really shock us that Bond (played by Daniel Craig, aged 47) has finally been cast alongside a woman of his own age? We think little of him being paired with women in their 20s and 30s, as is common for the franchise. Bellucci, who can hardly be described as“old”, holds all of the assets commonly associated with “beauty”. She is famed for looking younger than her years and an ex-model, so perhaps her casting will not give great comfort to other middle-aged women. The film makes a small step for representation, but the furore around the issue reminds us of how few examples we have of older women portrayed as “sexy” in film.

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Daniel Craig (47), with “older” Bellucci (51) and Seydoux (30)

Narrow and negative views of women’s sexuality are punishing at any age. Younger women struggle with Madonna/Whore attitudes, which both encourage them to be “sexy” and then shame them for it. As women age, they quickly become stereotyped as “desperate” and predatory “cougars” if they choose to be visibly sexual or become entirely invisible. Although some women may prefer younger men, fantasies of the sexually experienced “older women” (a la The Graduate) aren’t helpful if they’re the only image of sexuality in older women we see. In a depressing excerpt in porn documentary “Hot Girls Wanted” a 25 year old performer describes progressing quickly from being cast as a “teen” to a “MILF”. These fantasies aren’t only damaging to women, who should be given opportunities to explore and express their sexuality as they age as more than a vehicle for a younger man’s naughty adventures. Women who sexually abuse young people are frequently given lesser sentences than their male equivalents and attitudes that boys would be “lucky” to receive such attention abound. Women don’t sexually deactivate at the age of 35, with some women describing feeling more sexual at this age than when they were younger. But all too often this part of women’s lives is silenced and we see little of it represented in the world around us.

ruth

Six Feet Under’s Ruth, a great image of a sexually active older woman

Ideas about age and attractiveness are multi-faceted and can’t be entirely blamed on the media. However, greater representation of older women (and not just middle-aged) as attractive and viable sexual partners rather than the butt of jokes or pornographic fantasies can go some way to expand our narrow terms of reference. One particularly good example I’m reminded of is the character Ruth Fisher in HBO’s Six Feet Under. The character is widowed at the start of the series and begins to explore her sexuality, taking a number of lovers. Although there are jokes to her storyline, Ruth’s love life isn’t a humorous sideline and is treated seriously. Ruth’s adult children struggle with her newfound life, but her sexuality is shown in an honest and unedited manner. In one shot, she is shown naked, grey hair falling on her shoulders, lying in bed with her partner, also an older man. How often do we see images like this? Or are we encouraged to see them as somehow “disgusting” or ridiculous?

Recent years have shown an increase in films with older characters, reportedly vying for the “grey-pound”. We need to have accurate representations of people of all ages in the media, not just so that people can identify with characters like themselves, but for the ways in which it challenges and teaches us to think critically about our stereotypes about age. Monica Bellucci is a great addition to the Bond films but let’s not laud her as a game-changer for women in film. We need more representation of older women (not just those with model looks), as beautiful, sexy and sexual. They need not always be centre-stage, but included alongside other plots and characters, for a drip-by-drip education that can encourage us to see activeness in all ages. Images like these could serve to remind women that they don’t have a “best before” date and their sexuality, at any age, is something to celebrate.

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Trans Visiblity: Rallying, allying and minding your own business

NB – I am open to suggestions and making edits to this piece if anyone feels the language used is inappropriate or inaccurate. Please drop me a message and let me know556cd6644ae56e586e4588d8_caitlyn-jenner-bruce-jenner-july-2015-vf

Here is an extract from a recent conversation I had:

“But the first Matrix is definitely the best Wachowski Brothers’ film”

“They’re actually not called the Wachowski Brothers anymore, as one of them has since transitioned”

“Ah okay, didn’t know that! Good pub quiz knowledge!”

And then the conversation moved on. Transgender people are arguably more visible now than ever before, and words and phrases such as “transition”, “non-binary”, “female-to-male” and “gender identity” are far more commonplace in general vocabulary and seem to not need the level of explanation that they once did. That isn’t to say that it’s fully entrenched in common knowledge, and many people still don’t know the difference between terms such as “transgender”, “transvestite” and “hermaphrodite” (and think “cis” is some kind of infection), (the BBC published a helpful glossary this week). Awareness is rising, and that’s never been more true than this week, with Caitlyn Jenner’s Vanity Fair cover, quickly becoming the most visible trans person in the world.

Transvisibility has certainly increased in the last couple of years. Openly trans actress and activist Laverne Cox rose to prominence in Orange is the New Black, later gracing the cover of Time magazine and posing nude for Allure. Trans models such as Lea T and Andeja Pejic have been very visible in fashion and beauty campaigns. Popular television shows such as Transparent and Louis Theroux’s “Transgender Kids” have been educational to audiences. Journalist and presenter Paris Lees, once voted top of the “pink list” of influential UK LGBT people, has brought a lot of attention to trans issues. Trans men continue to be less visible, although statistics suggest that they are similar in number.

Prior to this week I was only vaguely aware of Ms Jenner (I’ve never watched her reality shows) but lately my social media has been awash with images of her, celebrating her bravery, openness and the inspiration she gives. But you only need to read the comments posted on this article (or indeed from some celebrities) to see how far we have to go in terms to increasing awareness, acceptance and equality for the transgender and minority gender identity community.

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Trans people experience significant discrimination and abuse. Many trans people, particularly women of colour, are murdered each year. They are rejected by their families, bullyied and the list of those who turn to suicide increases. The stories of Leelah Alcorn and Lucy Meadows are two recent tragic examples that have been publicised. Trans rights were largely ignored in the equal marriage debates, and the issue of “spousal veto” remains – in which a married person applying for a gender recognition certificate must have the approval of their spouse. The UK’s most prominent gay rights charity Stonewall has only recently begun to represent trans people, after lengthy lobbying. Transphobia is pervasive and often slips under the radar, as though seem as a fair topic for fun rather than an undercurrent of prejudice that impacts on the lives of trans people continually. Trans people are often the subject of jokes in the media and derogatory terms such as “tr*nny” are used without thought. If you look out for it you might be surprised the level of offensive language commonly used that refers negatively to trans communities, often slipping in subtly. Trans people are overrepresented in mental health populations, and with a lifetime of discrimination and high incidences of trauma it’s little wonder why. In order to access gender identity services people must jump through considerable hoops that include extensive psychiatric evaluation. The past hashtag #transdocfail exhibited just how uninformed health professionals are about trans issues. Any one of these instances is shocking, but together it’s a pretty horrifying picture of how we treat human beings we see as “different”.

TDFSamples

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Electronic Selves – Professional and Personal Identity Online

Peter Steiner’s famous New Yorker cartoon

I blog and use twitter in a pseudo-anonymous fashion. By that I mean that I don’t put my full name on either account. I haven’t gone to great lengths to conceal my identity, but I do feel an advantage to not being too identifiable on the internet. Recently the GMC stated that doctors on twitter should use their real names, which sparked some debate about the kind of candid and honest communication that this might shut down. It’s said that nothing on the internet is truly private and I do have anxieties that my personal life and writing might somehow impact negatively on my career and clinical work. On the same hand, I wonder what opportunities I cut off by maintaining an alias. I’ve been having a chat about this with some friends who also blog about personal experiences, both as professionals and service-users.

Self as a writer. I love writing. Perhaps there’s something somewhat exhibitionist about writing about my life on the internet for strangers to read, but my writing style has always drawn on my own experiences, often mixed in with more factual information. I do enjoy sharing my own stories, it’s the only thing I can really claim any expertise in and makes my writing something unique and my own. My writing serves as a space for my own reflection, but I also hope to inform other people and draw attention to topics that I feel are important and lend my voice to debate. So for me writing is personal, but also a form of communication, providing a resource to others and a form of activism. It’s also something I enjoy and an outlet from my day-job, which can be quite stressful! Many online writers, especially those who write candidly about more controversial topics (think Belle du Jour) use an alias, it can be less restrictive and give the freedom to write without worries about how it might impact the rest of your life. Blogger LandslideGirl is a psychology student who also has experience of mental health problems.She mentioned the freedom that comes from writing anonymously, which I definitely agree with, “My twitter account is something I use in both a personal and academic sense.  On twitter I identify myself as both a psychology student and a person with mental health issues, although again I don’t have my real name on it.  There are several people from ‘real life’ who follow me, but it allows me a greater degree of freedom than facebook which is so closely linked to my identity.  I find that on twitter I can have the best of both worlds. “ 

Sharing personal experiences – self as patient (and as regular human being) – I write about my general life but something I’ve used a lot is my experiences with mental health problems and using mental health services. Reflecting on these times helps me to understand and learn from them, but I also think I can have a role in helping other people to understand what it can be like to have a mental health problem and be in treatment, for other people who might identify with me and conveying messages about hope, recovery and growth. I also have the benefit that I’m also a mental health professional, so in some ways I can talk both ‘languages’ and I can talk about my experiences in a way that’s accessible to the people who might work with someone like me. I guess I’d hope to foster understanding on both sides.

LSG uses her blog in a similar manner, I wanted my landslidegirl blog to be somewhere that I could write about the things that effect me, and tell my backstory, from a more reasoned perspective, rather than a daily update… I haven’t linked my blog to my personal identity, although if someone read it who already knew me they would work out that it was me without too much difficulty.” There can be something quite therapeutic about sharing experiences in such an open forum, but we’re both aware of the possible consequences of this.

Rufus May – Out and Proud

There are some mental health professionals who have spoken openly about their own experiences of mental health problems, Rufus May and Marsha Linehan are two good examples of this. They’ve been praised for their honesty, but it is noticeable that both ‘came out’ at a point when they were quite established and respected in their careers. I don’t have that luxury, I’m still getting on the ladder and I don’t know how people who might employ and work with me might respond to my disclosures. Similarly, I’m encouraged not to reveal a lot of personal informations to the clients I see in practice. It depends on the model of therapy you work with, but generally self-disclosure is considered to often be unhelpful to the therapeutic relationship and process. I don’t know how other professionals who have a lot of personal information about them in the public domain manage this, but I am wary that knowing details about my experiences might be detrimental to my clinical work. I have tight privacy settings on my Facebook to limit colleagues and clients seeing pictures of me falling over drunk in fancy-dress (not that I do that, obviously…).

Lyssa is a family and marriage therapist who blogs. Her blog is a personal one (often very personal, she recently shared her engagement photos and her erm… reflections on her bowel movements). However, she does mention her job, although not in the same detail that I do. mentioned this also, “In terms of personal disclosure with clients, I like to think that I am comfortable being fairly open with my clients when they ask me directly about my life.  I like Yalom’s take on being honest and open with clients…..because change is all about the therapeutic relationship, and I think being genuine can only help that (as long as the main focus stays on the client, of course). I suppose if a client found my blog and then brought it up in session, I might be embarrassed, depending on what the client thinks about it all.  At the end of the day, it’s just me, and my clients can take that or leave it.”

Talking about work – self as professional. Another side of my writing is often writing about issues and ideas that come to me from my clinical work, things that strike me as interesting, things that make me laugh and sometimes things that make me really sad. I’ll sometimes use examples from the people I see in my work. I am mindful of confidentiality and I don’t use names or identifying details, but I sometimes mention the type of problems I’m working with or things people have said to me. Given I don’t have my name or where I work linked to any of my accounts, I don’t think it’s possible to actually identify individuals. A lot of the people who follow me on twitter and some of my readers seem quite interested in what my day-to-day life as a mental health professional involves and I hope to give a sense of that. I’ve read quite a few other anonymous twitters and blogs that similarly offer snapshots of a professional’s life. If I was identifiable online, I’d need to really edit my online content to remove these references. Similarly references to colleagues. Sometimes I write about controversial and contentious topics, and I often take a critical view on current mental healthcare. If I was more identifiable online I wonder if there would be any issues with expressing views online that might not be in line with the views of the organisations I am involves in (such as the NHS, my university). At the same time, whilst my writing isn’t identifiable, it limits my ability to share it within my professional and academic network. LSG also mentioned fearing negative outcomes that come from writing candidly (and sometimes negatively) about the systems we work within, “During the placement year of my degree I worked in a clinical psychology service and I faced considerable stigma created by the clinical team.  This was something that I felt strongly agrieved about and wanted to write about, but I decided not to, on the off chance that somehow it got back to them.  So yes I am careful about what I write.  I’m more conscious than ever of keeping my comments quite general and not naming names.” 

Lyssa does mention her job, although not in the same detail that I do. I asked her about how she manages this professional/personal identity boundary, “My colleagues don’t know that I blog. I try to keep my personal and professional lives separate as much as possible….while still blogging about personal stuff. For instance, I post really personal stuff on Facebook but, as a rule, I do not have Facebook friends who are current coworkers of mine. And yes, I do use pictures of myself on my blog, but I try not to describe exactly where I live and I don’t use my full name, in hopes that my blog will be less searchable by people who may know me in the real world (like clients).

Real-life’ self – academic discourse. In my work life, I’ve published a paper and hope to put more out, in terms of research papers and other professional comment. This work has my full name on, the same one I use at work, so if colleagues and clients were to google me, this is what they might come up with (and hopefully not pictures of me drunk on my birthday). Although what they’d find would be very little in comparison to the amount I’ve written on my blog, and online conversations I’ve had with service-users, activists and professionals (both anonymous and those that identify themselves online) and other campaigning. But my ‘real-life’ identity probably packs more clout, I can communicate through a wide professional network and have the associated prestige and respectability of the organisations I’m a part of. My opinion perhaps carries more weight than that of an anonymous blogger and maybe I’m able to have more impact in this role. But this identity remains unconnected with articles I’ve written about sex and pornography, more frivolous pieces on lingerie and fashion and twitter rants.

So in addition to the roles I juggle at work, I carry about these different ‘selves’ with me. They start to blur into each other as I have real-life friends who read my blog and follow me on twitter, I have fellow trainees (who straddle a blurry area between colleague and friend) on my Facebook where I sometimes post my writing, not to mention photos. On my twitter I communicate with a range of professionals who I really respect, but if we came into contact in a professional environment, would I let them know who I am? Recently some staff from my university have followed me on twitter, and I’m pretty sure for people who already know me, I’m pretty identifiable online.

I doubt the NHS has the funds to do a Lisbeth Salander-style online check on me, and airing a few controversial opinions and having a good time is not exactly illegal. I don’t think I break confidentiality in my writing, but am aware that others might see it differently so am mindful of it. Even if my clients aren’t identifiable, it perhaps communicates something about my profession and how we share information if I’m seen to be writing about people I work with. I’m undecided about whether I want to come ‘out’ as a wounded healer and professional with lived experience of mental health problems, and I think it’s something I’ll probably leave to consider later in my career when I’m in a more stable position job-wise.  And if clients found me online? That would be a difficult issue, but I don’t think impossible to manage. I’d like to be an empty vessel to take on their projections and unconscious phantasies, but at the same time, I am a real person and it’d be unrealistic to act as though I have no life beyond the clinic walls. Like Lyssa says, I’d probably be embarrassed, but this is me, and my writing and my past experiences are part of who I am.

Thanks to Lyssa and LandslideGirl for their help! Go check them out, they’re great. I’d welcome any other opinions and views from others who struggle with this personal/professional interface and the dilemmas the internet and disclosure bring up.

Rape happens to men too

  If you’ve used the London underground in recent works you probably can’t help but have noticed the posters for charity Survivors UK. Under a dark, stormy sky, it features a rugby ball, punctured with a nail. The stark slogan above reads ‘Real Men Get Raped’. 

The advert has an underniable shock-factor. Maybe that’s just because it has the word ‘rape’, displayed so boldly and publically. We’re British, we barely even like talking about sex, especially not anything relating to anal sex, and definitely not sexual assault. What if a sweet, middle-class child saw this, tugged his father’s coat and said ‘Daddy, what’s rape?‘. Now, that would be an uncomfortable conversation! But maybe it needs to be had.

Rape is horribly common. Amongst the people you work with, it’s likely that a couple of them have been victims of some kind of sexual assualt. Amongst your friends and family, it’s likely that a couple of them have also been victims. Statistics hide the large number of people who never come forward about what they have experienced, secrets that go undetected and unchallenged. And rape doesn’t just happen to young women. Perpetrators of sexual violence and abuse can be both men and women. Rape happens to women of all ages. It happens to people of all sexualities and appearances. It happens to children. And yes, it does happen to men. Survivors UK quote the statistic that every hour, a man is sexually assaulted in London. And there will be countless other crimes in other cities, and indeed all over the world.

We don’t usually get too worried about men being sexually assaulted. Men typically don’t wear short skirts, low-cut tops or engage in the other ‘provocative’ behaviour that has too-often been blamed for women’s assaults. We worry about women walking home on their own, about their getting their drinks spiked or picked up by unlicensed taxis. What about men? Are they somehow safe, immune? This article, though focused on sexual violence against men as a weapon of war abroad rather than in the UK, highlights some of the horrific realities of male rape. It’s quite graphic and intense, but worth reading. This is another very powerful article  about a police officer’s experience of being raped and the following investigations. It does happen, far more often than we might like to think.

The Survivors UK campaign has attracted some flack for their use of the phrase ‘real men’ as critics says this perpetuates the idea that there is such a thing as a ‘real’ man, or that a certain type of man may be more ‘real’ and ‘manly’ than another. This is unfortunate, but I don’t think it detracts from the impact of the posters. Their aim has been to try and dispel myths that male rape happens to only a certain subset of men, perhaps those who are gay or men who are physically weaker or more effeminate. The reality is that rape can happen to any man, regardless of whether he fits a stereotype of ‘manliness’ or not. Rape happens to ‘macho’, muscular, heterosexual, beer-drinking, sport-playing, hunting, fishing, all-round red-blooded men, as well as any other variety. On the use of the image, Michael May of Survivors UK said: “We’ve chosen to use an alpha male sport in our advertising to challenge assumptions about the type of men who get raped. It’s just as likely to be a rugby player as a librarian, a suited city banker as a hooded gang member. And we hope that by challenging our innate assumptions about the identity of male victims, we can make it even fractionally easier for a male rape victim to ask for help.” This rugby-themed poster deliberately coincides with the Six Nations, so it’s aimed at these men in particular. Maybe it’ll start a conversation. Maybe people will look at it and then awkwardly look away. If all the poster does is make someone think, perhaps for the first time ‘Rape actually happens to men’, the it’ll be a success. There is a great stigma and culture of shame around rape and this can make it even harder for men to come forward to receive support and justice they deserve. Survivors UK quote that only 11% of men ever report the crime they’ve experienced. This is disturbingly low. Would you ever know if a man in your life had been raped? Would anyone? Let’s start a conversation.

More information and support at Survivors UK

Bisexuality in the UK

On February 15th a report was published bringing together research and information on the UK’s bisexual population. In particular the paper highlights the discrimination bisexuals face, often related to misconceptions, negative stereotypes and ‘invisibility’ within the community. It seems amazing that it’s taken this long for us to have a paper of this kind, but hopefully it is a step towards greater public and professional awareness of this often unseen group. It has been produced by BiUK in conjunction with the Open University, Bi Community News and the Bisexual Index. You can read it here.

Twice as nice? Or double the discrimination?

The paper offers some definitions of bisexuality, explaining that many different forms of identity may come under the umbrella of the term. Bisexuality includes individuals who are not attracted exclusively to one gender (regardless of whether they engage in sex or relationships with individuals of more than one gender), people of fluid and changeable sexuality, individuals who do not see gender as an important factor in attraction and those who dispute the concept of a gender binary in sexual attraction. A bisexual need not actively engage in relationships with people of different genders or have an equal preference for different genders. Not all individuals who fit with the used definitions may actually use the term ‘bisexual’ to describe themselves, picking a more precise term or preferring not to label themselves.

Biphobia is a term used to describe discimination against bisexuals on the basis of their sexuality. Distinct from homophobia, bisexuals may experience discrimination both within the heterosexual and homosexual community. This can often centre on beliefs that bisexuals are confused, promiscuous, greedy or not acknowledging that bisexuality truly exists. Presentations of bisexuals in the media have often conformed to stereotypes and further perpetuated myths. Female bisexuals are often presented as people who break up relationships, tease and generally exist for the fantasies of heterosexual men. Bisexual men are an even lesser spotted species, often considered to be an insecure individual’s ‘stepping stone’ before fully coming out as gay. Much progress has been made in recent years about tackling homophobia, but prejudices against bisexuals are rife and even seen in the communities that seek to promote gay rights. This can lead to bisexuals feeling alienated and having to conform to either a ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ identity in order to be accepted.

Bisexuals can often seem invisible when judgements about sexuality are often made based on a person’s current relationship, their involvement in the gay community and even their appearance. A bisexual does not cease to be a bisexual if they marry an opposite sex partner, or same sex partner, or even if they choose to not be in a relationship at all! LGBT campaigning and activism often makes very little mention of the ‘B’, such are in recent discussion over same-sex marriages, and LGBT groups and events (such as Pride) may have little visible represenation for the bisexual community. The difficulties faced by bisexuals can be undermined as people erroneously think that they ‘have it easy’ compared to homosexuals, and some how their struggle is halved by having ‘one leg in the straight community’. Statistics on bisexuals are often lumped together with the other LGBT groups, rather than examined in their own right as a separate sexuality.

One of the most attention-grabbing and upsetting details of the report is the statistics that Bisexuals have poorer mental health than both homosexuals and transsexuals. This is something difficult to publicise without unintentionally feeding into stereotypes of bisexuals as ‘tragic’, ‘dramatic’ or ‘confused’. Indeed, much of the distress experienced by bisexuals has been linked to hostile and unhelpful reactions from others, rather than the sexuality itself. Coming out, an already difficult process, may be more marked for bisexuals who may need to come out when they choose a same sex partner, then again when they choose an opposite sex partner. There has been quite some media attention about depression and suicide in the gay community but similar issues in the bi community seem to have been overlooked. The evidence suggests that Bisexuals are more likely to suffer distress and to have a diagnosed mental health problem. Medical and mental health professionals are often uninformed about bisexual issues and may even make remarks suggesting that the individual’s illness has something to do with their sexuality. This kind of treatment can make it challenging for bisexuals to access mental health treatment and get appropriate care. Manchester group BiPhoria have created a fantastic and informative document for mental health professionals to guide them on working with bisexual clients, I’d really recommend it. Can be read here.

Quotes from BiPhoria

Much of the reccomendations in the report, and from other Bi media sources, amounts to not making assumptions about Bisexuals and considering them separately from homosexual groups. The mental health statistics are worrying and if we’re going to do anything to solve this problem, we need to be sensitive to individuals’ needs and be open-minded to different perspectives. Bisexuality may present in a wide variety of ways so it’s difficult to predict exactly how a bisexual may live their life, or what their experiences will be. As with working with other individuals, an individualised, person-centred approach and a genuine curiosity to learn about and understand another’s view point, can help us to support Bisexuals and help them to become a more visible part of the UK’s community.

Gender Fatigue – Andrej Pejic & the trend for the ‘bend

Edit 22/04/15 – In the time since I wrote this piece I’m aware that that Adreja Pejic has “come out” and transitioned. In light of this I’ve considered whether this piece comes across as mean-spirited. My intention was to criticise the idea that the only kind of acceptable gender non-conforming body was one that conformed to idealised standards of (female) beauty, and that this was not as ground-breaking and empowering as some media sources had made it out to be. I have no issue with Pejic herself and however she chooses to express herself, more the way the media paraded her.

Barnes & Nobel censored this cover, worrying that customers might mistake him for a topless woman

Barnes & Nobel censored this cover, worrying that customers might mistake him for a topless woman

Here comes an unpopular opinion. I am bored of Andrej Pejic. There, I said it.

Yes, he’s pretty, I don’t deny that. I’m not bored of looking at him,  he’s gorgeous and has created some stunning images. What I’m bored of is the way he’s being continually lauded as the patron saint of gender diversity as if he’s the first bloke to ever wear a dress.

You’ve probably heard of the Serbian-born male model, famous for, well, looking like a girl. And not just any girl, a beautiful girl, with the high-fashion look designers crave. Andrei shot to fame following a Marc Jacobs editorial which showed the blond, elfin model in a short dress, showing off his slender, well-oiled legs. A sensation was born and Pejic became one of the first male models to take part in female catwalk shows and fronting many campaigns for men’s and women’s wear. Controversy and world-wide fame insued after he gained a place in FHM’s ‘hottest women’ list, generating some rather ugly transphobic abuse, and when he starred in a push-up bra advert.

Pejic, who does not identify as transgender, has been quoted saying that he enjoys dressing in both masculine and feminine styles and has been mistaken for a girl since he was a child, suffering no hostility for it “I can’t really say that it was ever a bad thing. All I’ll say is … a lot of free drinks!”. Journalists and media have applauded his bravery and defiance in the face of gender-norms, his innovation and his status as an icon of gender-fluidity, someone judged on their ‘merits’ rather than their gender. So does the acceptance of Pejic into the mainstream media and fashion world mean that society is becoming more accepting of variation in gender and individuals whose identity differs from their biological sex? I’m not so sure.

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Ordinary Obsessions

When I left eating disorder treatment I wanted to love myself and my body. Love, not just like. Not just tolerate, put up with, make-do. I wanted to look in the mirror and smile at the person standing there, feel that that was someone worth being. Turn around, do a twirl, and love the me-ness reflecting out.

I was 18 and I’d been in out-patient treatment for a year. I’d been to countless assessments and therapy sessions, cried in front of various stern professionals, and grudgingly, bite by painful bite, I’d put the weight back on. I was crawling back to wellness. But it had been worth it. When my body had enough energy to power it, the world didn’t feel like quite such a fearful place. I began to venture out, to open my mouth, smile and rekindle the friendships my illness had tossed aside.  Something warm began to grow in me.

When the clasps of this monster started to loosen, I felt like I could finally see the full extent of the horror I’d led myself into. The scars on my limbs, the downy hair that now grows permanently from my cheeks, my back and chest.  The dull ache in my fragile, calcium-deficient bones. The feeling of grief for the younger-me began to turn into an anger. Why had being thin, being ‘beautiful’ been so important that I had risked my life and hurt so many others for it? I felt desperately sad for everyone else still stuck in the pain I had felt. I wanted to lash out at the world that had planted such ideas in my head. I was a born-again body-confidence evangelist. Working Saturdays in a local book-shop I felt a surge of rage at the shelves in the ‘health’ section.  Filled with tones of empty promises for the perfect figure and the perfect life; through a few simple dietary instructions. Why should we sell so many of these ugly things, when we didn’t have a single copy of ‘Lolita’, or ‘Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit’? But there was a demand that kept the books in stock.

At the eating disorder clinic, there were no fashion or gossip magazines in the waiting room. Only rather dull publications on gardening, interior design and current affairs. At the time I found this rather patronising, that they feared that a photo of a supermodel would be so wretchedly triggering that I wouldn’t be able to bare it. But looking back on it, I think about how they’d tried to keep the clinic a safe space, away from the blare of the appearance-obsessed media. A rare haven away from the storm. It was a token-effort, but I can appreciate it.

In treatment you learn that ‘normal’ people do not keep their bodies at an unhealthy weight, or go to such extremes to lose and maintain weight. The dietician gave me a plan of ‘normal’ eating, with three balanced meals a day, plus snacks in between. ‘Normal’ people feel hunger, and then they eat. And they’re able to stop eating when they’re full. And then they carry on with their day. ‘Normal’ people do not wake up in the middle of the night sweating because they dreamt they went downstairs and ate everything in the fridge. ‘Normal’ people do not burst into tears when trying on jeans in Topshop.

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