OPINION: Body of evidence shows women targeted again by sexism

Bigger girls should not need the ‘Fatkini Movement’ to embolden them to proudly don bikinis, but sexism insists that they cover up, says Suzanne Harrington

SO the summer is over and the bikini is back in its box for another year. That is, providing you are a socially acceptable size to wear one.

Fat women would never dare wear bikinis, would they? Of course not. Larger ladies have their own ranges of swim- and beachwear, feats of structural engineering with mysterious, added stuff like ‘secret panels,’ ‘extra control,’ and ‘tummy flattening,’ as though an extra layer of industrial-grade elastine could make it all stop wobbling. For the even larger lady, there is the suggested option of avoiding the pool/beach entirely. Just stay indoors, love.

This summer, hiding indoors under a bedsheet was rejected by the Fatkini Movement, which began in the US before making its way to the fatter end of Europe. You’ll have seen the photos — fat women in colourful, two-piece swimwear, smiling, posing, having fun, as though being fat does not equate with misery. Could this actually be true?

It all began with a blogger named Gabi Gregg, who posted a photo of herself, in a bikini, on her website GabiFresh. Gabi is an American size 18, and posed in a 1950s-style full-cut bikini. Her photos got mixed comments — while praised for highlighting body diversity, she was criticised for supposedly promoting obesity. How can an individual, rather than a multinational selling high-sugar junk food and drink, promote obesity? Does the sight of fatter bodies trigger an impulse in less fat people to stuff themselves with crisps and doughnuts? A fat woman in a bikini was catnip to the lower end of so-called ‘women’s’ magazines. When the cover of a recent edition of Bella asked, “Should Fatkini Girls Be Proud Or Ashamed?”, along with some photos of fat women in 1950s bikinis, a Twitter skirmish ensued.

The chick-lit author turned Tory MP turned New York housewife, Louise Mensch (nee Bagshawe), waded in, suggesting that fat ladies in bikinis should — while perhaps avoiding all out body shame — be very concerned about their obesity, calling it an “awful condition” and likening it to alcoholism. Then she had a go at “fauxminists” for ‘bigging up’ body pride and diversity.

The Vagenda Team, who advocate zero tolerance of media sexism, pointed out — rather reasonably — that this was not an argument about health, but about policing women’s bodies.

No fat guy in groovy Hawaiian trunks was plastered all over the cover of anything, asking whether he should be proud or ashamed. Nope, as usual it was just the ladies.

As the possessor of both a bikini and excess body fat, allow me to waddle in.

I am a generous size 16, and have a pink polka dot bikini, which I wore all summer. On the beach in the south of France, I was one of the fatter ladies, as I hurled myself into the waves before flopping on the crowded beach to sunbathe. Nobody made harpoon jokes. Nobody cared. Least of all me.

I love bikinis, because you get the sun on your non-structured, non-control-panelled stomach, and it feels heavenly. The beaches were filled with male and female bodies, aged from 0 to 100, and there were all kinds of sizes, shapes, consistencies, textures and colours, and, this being France, nobody was taking much notice of anyone else. They were all too busy smoking and snogging. Apart from a few self-conscious 12-year-olds, nobody gave a hoot. At no point did anyone approach me and ask if I felt ashamed or proud.

See how absurd this sounds? Yet there it was, this shame-or-pride thing, presented as a valid question on the cover of a popular magazine. We are so accepting of female body shaming that we barely notice it, never mind question it. Of course, being fat is not a super-healthy option, but not all fat people are dying of diabetes, nor dying of shame. (This is about common or garden fatness, rather than anything morbid, which is an altogether more serious and deadly progression of obesity, and should be viewed as a medical issue rather than a magazine one).

But for ordinary fatties, the issue is the focus on one gender, such that fat men in swimming trunks are given a permanent beach pass — give or take the odd pregnancy joke, which they are supposed to find hilarious — while women (fat AND thin) are policed, scrutinised, judged, and, depending where you are on the feministometer, either praised or ridiculed. Like we are children being judged at a fancy dress party.

Enough! Wear what you bloody well like, whether it’s a g-string or a bedsheet. It’s your body — own it.