The average height and size of an American woman is 5 foot 4, size 16. The average size of a model is under 6 in missy, 10 in plus and both are expected to exceed 5’8 in height. This leaves a staggering disparity in how the average woman compares to her print and digital counterparts. Essentially shorter curvier women are the norm and yet vastly underrepresented. Though they make up the majority, this group is relatively unseen. Visual representation by brands, networks, and organizations opt for taller women to showcase their products or represent brands. In their efforts to celebrate their actual consumers, some brands have steered away from the size 10 and employed larger models like Tess Holliday and Simone Mariposa.
Holliday and Mariposa are inspirational advocates of self-love, both women are very active on social media boldly flaunting their bodies, challenging their followers to love themselves and shutting down shamers one post at a time. Though their reach extends beyond size, neither is representative of the average woman. As the number of plus size advocates continues to increase and larger women enjoy a new era of visibility, the view of the average woman is slowly being eclipsed. Petite curve model Aurea González hopes to increase visibility and carve out a place for the average woman with her Petite Curves Matters campaign. The fledgling crusade is a labor of love for the model and mental health advocate. To further her efforts along, González held a body-positive photoshoot in June, featuring a collection of beautiful women who more accurately represent authentic everyday beauty.
As a lifelong member of the big fat black girl squad, the body-positive movement is one that resonates deeply with me. Like many, I’ve battled with my self-image. I wasn’t a skinny or even average-sized kid, in fact, I was 5’8 and size 14 by the time I reached fifth grade. By junior high, I was 5’10, with D sized breasts and a size 18, not at all your typical tween. Through it all I managed to develop healthy self-esteem and unyielding confidence, I was lucky. I have a family that would defend me at all costs and friends that stick with me no matter what. I was fortunate to grow up in the pre-social media world. We didn’t photograph every moment or live in fear that one bad day would result in viral immortality. I grew up fat, black and dark-skinned in a time when none of those traits were openly celebrated. Every video vixen, leading lady and model I had ever seen was smaller and usually lighter than me. On the screen, the women who looked like me were either the sassy sidekick or the comic relief. Finding women like me in print or billboards was impossible. I was model height but never model size. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t being represented properly. Like most of us, my self-worth wasn’t tested until I hit my teen years. I dealt with low self-esteem for a while. Like most girls I wanted to look like the women, I saw walking the red carpet and covering magazines. I also wanted to dress like all the smaller girls but that was often a losing battle as well. I was a plus-size teen in a time when plus-sized adults could scarcely find trendy clothes. The only way to get the looks I wanted was to lose the weight. My love of fried food and Oreos outweighed my interest in working out and eating well so I didn’t get any smaller. I also didn’t let my size define me. My waistline increased and in a stunning plot twist, my confidence eventually followed. I cried about being fat once and only once. I was 16, I had no date to prom and found out my crush was crushing on someone else. I was hurt, angry and convinced my blubber was to blame. I cried like a baby, big cathartic tears of grief and sadness. In the middle of my solitary ugly cry, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and my inner Amazon was appalled. Who was this person crying over some boy? What was wrong with being fat? Weren’t there worse things than this to worry about? As I often do when I’m upset, I replaced my emotions with logic:
- I didn’t think I was ugly before that day so I must not be ugly.
- I didn’t like every boy who ever liked me so this one person not liking me back shouldn’t be a big deal.
- I’m taller, smarter and bigger than most so I’m above average, I’m a damn Goddess
From that moment onward I focused on all the things I loved about me and never looked back. I even went through an insufferable cocky phase which thankfully ended once my clumsiness and lack of funding brought me back down to reality. Reclaiming my self-confidence was relatively easy for me, but everyone isn’t as fortunate. These days, young people are bombarded with images and an overwhelming need to look the part. This need has led to an increase in eating disorders, chronic anxiety, dangerous cosmetic procedures, and in some cases even death. Though there is a lot of negative effects surrounding this global visibility, there is also an upside. The visual nature of our world has prompted many to take action. Many artists, performers, and influencers are using their platforms to call out brands, and industries promoting exposure to photoshopped realities and impossible expectations. Projects like González’ shoot are giving everyday heroines the opportunity to finally be seen and heard. In addition to the shoot, filmmaker Chloe Raymond-Lebel was on hand to interview and document the experience. She interviews each of the models and captured their unique experiences. Some of the footage she has gathered will be part of her latest project “I Want to Look Like That”, a documentary which focuses on body image, eating disorders, and other issues. Armed with the hashtag #PetiteCurvesMatter González and the models from her shoot are sharing their stories via social media, Everybody is worthy of celebration and the strength that comes from.
-Desha Winborne