The horrors of the fashion world are right before our eyes

Who could possibly see beauty, creativity and inspiration when the human beings selling it are in such pain?

Kirstie Clements, former editor of Australian Vogue, has written an exposé of what goes on behind the scenes in the fashion world. That’s assuming anyone needs telling and can’t see what’s right before their eyes, which is that the catwalks are populated by models who are starving. And what a dull thing to write, models who are starving. How lacking in imagination and vision. So the beautiful people eat tissues, balls of it choked down to suppress the gnawing of their concave stomachs. So what? We always knew they weren’t like you or me.

Every year we head the same old gasps of horror in response to London Fashion Week’s latest bag of bones. Every year the same old pledges and initiatives while the rest of us struggle to decide whether it’s an issue worth caring about at all. After all, these people are an elite minority. They are paid to look unlike anyone else. Each time a fashion editor poses as whistle blower, you can’t help wondering whether it’s merely to create a distraction from all the other obscenities of the fashion world: the adoration of money, the sweatshops, the laissez-faire attitudes towards racism and anti-semitism. So you’ve decided that from now on all your models will be over 16, but can’t make up your mind whether a BMI of 18 is all that important. Fine. We’ll just leave you to it. That Dorian Gray world of yours is just beyond redemption.

Fat prejudice is insidious, aiding and abetting the classism, racism and misogyny of haute couture. It’s hard not to think of the tissue-eating models as co-conspirators. They chose this path or even if they didn’t – even if they are too young, even if they had few opportunities back home, wherever it was in the world they were plucked from – they remain complicit. It’s their bodies we see, endlessly reinforcing the association of thinness with wealth, glamour and achievement. These bodies, obscenely fragile, become fixed in the brain as “how the privileged look”. They’re not, of course – the link between obesity, thinness and class is nowhere near as clear as our preachy government ministers imply – but we buy it all the same. The writer Barbara Ehrenreich once described low-fat diets as the penance of the rich, “the hair shirt under the fur coat – the daily deprivation that offsets the endless greed”. In the UK this may be true for women – the thinnest of whom tend to be the richest – but amongst men thinnest tends to mean poorest. The lean, disciplined aesthetes don’t inherit the Earth; as ever, the plain old rich people do, merely using the emaciated ladies as window-dressing (but for that we won’t ever forgive them).

On the catwalk and in the pages of Vogue, unless they’re desperately frail, skinny bodies soon lose the power to shock. It’s the larger ones – the “plus” sizes, 8, 10 – that look most out of place. I see pictures of models who starved to death – Ana Carolina Reston, Luisel Ramos, Eliana Ramos, Hila Elmalich – and find myself thinking “well, they weren’t all that thin”. After all, they don’t look any different from the others, the ones who are still getting to live out their half-lives before the camera, dreaming of bread and sugar. I harden myself to it, deciding the experience of anorexia must be different for models. Some of them die but for the others it’s not real. It can’t be, otherwise we wouldn’t still be watching. I guess part of this is due to my own experience of the illness. I fear being tainted by association. Sufferers have a hard enough time dealing with the perception of anorexia as a disease of privileged little girls (hence not a “real” disease at all). Turn anorexia into a disease of privileged little girls who want to look like models – who perhaps are models – and I fear everyone will lose patience with us, we starving prima donnas. Hence I’d rather not think of this as authentic suffering. It’s as though, like the too-small clothing samples for which no one claims responsibility, these women appeared from nowhere. They’re not genuine human beings at all.

Of course if fashion models were actual people we would be horrified. You can’t convey in a picture what true hunger feels like, nor the ways it takes hold of your mind. You develop a host of rituals to keep yourself from despair. Despair still comes but intermittently, every now and then as you scrabble along from one meagre eating opportunity to the next. You spend your whole life scouring supermarkets, recipe books and online shops, looking at food labels, planning meals you’ll never eat, missing tastes you once despised, trying to remember what it feels like to be warm. The thought that your experience of the world could be otherwise never crosses your mind. There is no space for it. You are too hungry, even in the midst of plenty. You are a walking metaphor for the ingratitude of wealthy nations. Of course you are ashamed, but you are also terrified (I bet the tissue-eaters steer well clear of Kleenex Balsam. I bet the uncertainty of what might be in it makes them quake with terror). Anorexia might capture a whole host of prejudices, leaving more in its wake, but it is not rational. At its most basic level it is entrapment and fear.

Who would ever create a job in which enduring this became essential? How could any of us look at magazine cover in the same way? Above all, how could anyone see beauty, creativity and inspiration when the human beings selling these concepts were in such pain? 

The Simone Rocha runway at London Fashion Week. Photo: Getty Images.

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.

Getty Images.
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Jeremy Corbyn's speech on terrorism will do him more good than harm

The Labour leader's criticism of police cuts and western foreign policy will resonate with voters.

The election campaign, if there was any doubt, has resumed. In his speech responding to the Manchester attack, Jeremy Corbyn did not limit himself to expressions of sympathy and solidarity. He squarely targeted Theresa May on her home turf: policing and security.

The Conservatives' repeated warning is that Corbyn is a "threat" to his country. But the Labour leader countered that only he could keep it "safe". Austerity, he declared, "has to stop at the A&E ward and at the police station door. We cannot be protected and cared for on the cheap." May, having been warned by the Police Federation while home secretary of the danger of cuts, is undoubtedly vulnerable on this front. Under Labour, Corbyn vowed, "there will be more police on the streets" (despite Diane Abbott's erroneous arithmetic), while the security services would receive whatever resources they need.

Corbyn swiftly progressed to foreign policy, the great passion of his political life. Though it is facile to reduce terrorism to a "blowback" against western interventionism (as if jihadists were Pavlovian dogs, rather than moral agents), it is blinkered to dismiss any connection. As Corbyn noted: "Many experts, including professionals in our intelligence and security services have pointed to the connections between wars our government has supported or fought in other countries, such as Libya, and terrorism here at home" (the Tory-led Foreign Affairs Select Committee is among those who agree).That the former Stop the War chair has long taken this view absolves him of the charge of crude political opportunism.

Corbyn was also more careful than his pre-briefed remarks suggested to caveat his criticisms. He emphasised: "Those causes certainly cannot be reduced to foreign policy decisions alone. Over the past fifteen years or so, a sub-culture of often suicidal violence has developed amongst a tiny minority of, mainly young, men, falsely drawing authority from Islamic beliefs and often nurtured in a prison system in urgent need of resources and reform.

"And no rationale based on the actions of any government can remotely excuse, or even adequately explain, outrages like this week’s massacre."

But he maintained his central charge: western intervention has made the world more dangerous, not less. "We must be brave enough to admit the war on terror is simply not working," he said. "We need a smarter way to reduce the threat from countries that nurture terrorists and generate terrorism."

Though Corbyn's arguments have appalled Conservatives (and some in Labour), they are ones that will likely find favour among the public. Polls have consistently shown that most voters oppose western adventurism and believe it has endangered the UK. Corbyn's words will resonate among both the anti-interventionist left and the isolationist right (this is, after all, a country which has just voted to retreat from even its closest neighbours).

The speech, given at 1 Great George Street (in the room where Ed Miliband gave his resignation address), was marred by Corbyn's refusal to take questions. But it was unarguably well-delivered. "Let’s have our arguments without impugning anyone’s patriotism and without diluting the unity with which we stand against terror," he warned in a pre-emptive strike against the Conservatives.

Corbyn's decision to give an overtly political speech four days after the Manchester attack is being widely described as a "gamble" or even a profound error. But the election will now rightly focus more closely on the issue of security - nothing should be beyond democratic debate.

Many of Corbyn's life-long stances, such as unilateral disarmament, do not find favour with the electorate. But there was little in his speech today that the average voter would contest. The Conservatives will hope to turn the heightened security debate to their advantage, ruthlessly quoting Corbyn against himself. But on this front, as on others, the Labour leader is proving a tougher opponent than they anticipated.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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