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The Tufts Daily
Where you read it first | Friday, April 19, 2024

Elizabeth Landers | Campus Chic Report

A professor recently gave me "Pricing Beauty," (2011) an academic study of the modeling world written by Ashley Mears, a former model and current sociology professor at Boston University. I have always had a love?hate relationship with the modeling world of fashion. While I am repulsed by unrealistic body images, I am simultaneously attracted to beauty and the perfect "look." Women know that what we are looking at isn't real, but we accept the images and strive for them all the same. Though certainly not high?fashion, Sports Illustrated and Victoria's Secret catalogs contribute to the onslaught of bodies that we emulate.

There are numerous points that Mears addresses that explain fashion modeling, an integral part of the industry. She also raises many questions about who can change a feedback loop where the girls just keep getting smaller. A high?end model is characterized by an unusual and outlandish look, and is probably a girl who would not be considered conventionally attractive. Commercial models smile at you from Macy's ads and are considered wholesome and comely. Editorial holds prestige; commercial pays the real money. A handful (and I mean a mere 10 girls) bridges the gap between high fashion and commercial fashion: GiseleBundchen's latest Versace ad screams unattainable Italian palazzo lifestyle, but her Victoria's Secret shoots sell underpinnings to the masses.

Unfortunately, the editorial standard for uniqueness breeds extremely thin girls. Designers say their clothes look better on bodies that do not detract from them, and modeling agencies say they simply satisfy designers' demands. The cycle is counter?intuitive - wouldn't a designer want to put clothes on a person that mimics their customer in look and taste? The crux of the issue, as Mears points out, is that designers don't use models to sell clothes; they use them to sell a lifestyle. Consumers look at models and are perplexed by their bizarre looks, but they desire the glamour, jetsetting and major money spending that they represent.

In high school, I shadowed a French men's modeling agency to see the business side of things. One of the bookers noted that the company loved to represent women because female models earn much more than males. The discrepancies between male and female models are staggering; indeed, modeling and prostitution are the only jobs in which women make more than their male counterparts.

Fashion weeks are the visual manifestation of conspicuously young, thin models. The old saying goes that the camera adds 10 pounds, and maybe this is correct. You cannot imagine how tall and thin these girls are until you stand next to one of their towering figures. They are anything but the norm.

The Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA), the trade association for top American designers, re?released a statement before Fashion Week about their health initiative regarding runway models. The statement encourages designers to be cognizant of eating disorders and check IDs to make sure models are no younger than 16. But there was backlash to this statement: These are guidelines, not enforceable industry regulations.

The CFDA should have taken a stronger stance on the issue, conducting a study of fashion week models by analyzing height, body weight, relative fitness, etc. They should also be in dialogue with modeling agencies, as the agency fulfills designer's demands and perpetuates the cycle. Diane von Furstenberg, president of the CFDA, should examine her own lineup of runway girls before advocating this sort of poorly enforced guideline.

I think if you asked women, they would not be opposed to models that look like them. We already have celebrities representing the "ideal" - why not buy clothes worn by healthy and happy women?

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Elizabeth Landers is a junior majoring
in political science. She can be reached at
Elizabeth.Landers@tufts.edu.