COMMENTARY
By STACEY
MORRIS
Published in The Post-Star newspaper 3/14/02
Woman is the slave of the slaves ...We make her paint her face and danceIf she's real, we say she's trying to be a manWhile putting her down we pretend that she's above us While telling her not to be so smartWe put her down for being so dumb We insult her every day on TVAnd wonder why she has no guts or confidence -- John Lennon
The directive I'm about to make is for anyone who has ever twittered in disapproval over the size of Jennifer Lopez's caboose or the circumference of Calista Flockhart's waist:
Get a life.
Or at least a grip on reality.
Calista's too skinny! We're afraid she's hovering somewhere between semi-consciousness and death's door. And what's up with Jennifer's butt -- it's so big!
When Jennifer Lopez burst onto the entertainment landscape five or so years ago, in all her Latina gorgeousness, did we hear much about her singing, dancing or acting talent?
No, it was her derriere that was discussed, or in most cases, lampooned obsessively and ad-nauseum.
Then Jennifer lost a few pounds and was roundly scolded and scoffed at for having liposuction on her most newsworthy feature -- an allegation she has denied.
The point is, Jennifer Lopez can't win (and if she can't, we're all in trouble).
And neither can Calista.
Because I assure you, if Ms. Flockhart were to put on 20 pounds, she'd make the front page of the Enquirer, underneath headlines that screeched her impending doom at being out of control and approaching a "deadly 200 lbs," (one of my favorite Enquirer headlines used in reference to Oprah years ago).
Come on -- if 200 lbs. were deadly, I'd be long gone.
What is it we want from women?
How are we supposed to look?
How sick I am of women's body parts, or their bodies in their entirety being critiqued by leering men, catty women, smug fashion editors, or worst of all the nauseating panel of "experts" on E! who sit on their elevated director's chairs like a nightmarish, self-appointed board of directors spouting insults and should-haves about every female brave enough to walk past Joan Rivers on their way into the Golden Globe awards.
For the better part of my life I've been in the category known as plus-sized or fat or full-figured or whatever term you care to label it.
I know firsthand how women of size are treated and judged and believe me, it's not a love-fest.
And I'm just talking about what goes on at family reunions.
But whoa Nellie! Watch what happens when a woman with a full figure becomes a public figure.
Oprah, Roseanne, Winona, Camryn Manheim and Rosie O'Donnell have endured more than their fair share of ridicule for exceeding the parameters of socially accepted standards of beauty.
Closer to home, I've had the displeasure of hearing on morning radio shows some scathing remarks made about WTEN news anchor Tracy Egan because she's not a waif, while her detractors apparently haven't taken note of the fact that her co-anchor, John McLaughlin, is twice her size.
Large people being ridiculed is nothing new under the sun.
But what I read in yesterday's Arts/Life section of The Post-Star about Nigella Lawson, host of my all-time favorite cooking show, "Nigella Bites," really got under my skin.
I admit, part of why I like her so much is that throughout her half-hour foray into the preparation of her favorite recipes, the London-based Lawson makes no bones about the fact she loves to eat.
For "Nigella Bites" doesn't just take place in the kitchen, segments of it hover around her dining room table, where she and family and friends are filmed joyfully digging in to her sensual feasts of Greek lamb stew, parsley chicken soup and steaming ramekin cups of baked chocolate pudding (topped with creme fraiche, of course).
True, Lawson does exceed the weight of your average model. She knows it and couldn't care less.
But yesterday's story (written by a woman reporter from the Los Angeles Times) made mention of Lawson's body size three times, describing her as "Rubenesque," "Zaftig" and "Amazon."
The reporter also threw in a phrase about the size of Lawson's breasts.
Huh?
I thought this was a story about Nigella Lawson's cooking show and her stateside rise to fame on the American TV.
What is the world coming to?
Am I the only one who thinks the scrutiny has gotten out of hand?
I've got an idea -- why don't we just let women be.
Nigella, Jennifer, Calista, Roseanne, all the actresses who'll be walking the red carpet to the Oscars on March 24, Oprah, Rosie, Camryn, me and you.
Much like the "Great American Smoke-Out," let's make a small beginning and take one day where we don't ponder things like the width of a woman's buns, the pendulousness of her breasts or the radius of her upper arms.
Really now.
Don't we have more important things that deserve our attention?