What is a model? A role model, an act against feminism that women have fought so hard for, or simply a job? In my opinion, a model is simply a walking talking clothes horse.
Perhaps that requires a little more explanation.
A clothes horse is of course, as defined by Google: “A frame on which washed clothes are hung to air indoors.” Similarly, models, although they have the tendency to prance around in the nude, showcase the artistic work of designers by wearing their clothes. Clothes which have been designed to flatter the bodies of women who are slender and
of the height of a mini giant tall. Where designers developed the
assumption that the majority of ladies have this body shape is beyond my
understanding. However, that’s for another blog post.
Lovely little representation of a
model clothes horse
Ah yes, the walking and talking part. Now, that is pretty self-explanatory. Although models resemble the stature of a clothes horse they are in fact humans, walking and talking humans, with feelings.
It’s very common to spend a lonely Friday night flicking through the pages of Vogue envying the body of models and hating them, assuming that they starve themselves and convincing ourselves that they’re horrid non-appreciating people. However, that’s really not the case.
Models, or their bodies rather, have become both an object of desire and disdain. Yet I don’t feel as if they are the ones to blame. These women have worked hard to develop a body occasionally resembling a Grecian Goddess, and ruddy well good for them!
A perfect example of models' bodies being used as a blank canvas for an artist's work
If the works of art that are couture and the products of a designer’s inspiration best suit a body with a more petite frame, well then we must grow to accept this. No longer should we force ourselves through traumatic periods of exercise and eating crudites convincing ourselves that we enjoy it just to gain such a body, as for many, this is just impossible. Besides, why should we strain ourselves so much just to become somebody else’s idea of perfect?!
The point of my ever so ramble-y rant is that perfection is not attainable. Only the feeling of content is. Be happy with who you are and what you look like, for if you don’t, then who will be?
Wallace said it best "Love yourself first"