The body positivity movement has UTTERLY FAILED to convince women it’s OK to be fat

Every now and then my phone sees fit to create a ‘memory’ from one of my stored photos and notifies me of it. Mostly I just ignore them, but the one I received a couple of weeks ago stopped me in my tracks and made me go misty-eyed.

Was it a snap from a particularly memorable holiday? A beautiful sunset? Or a happy family Christmas? None of the above. It was a photo of me standing in a drab ladies loo. The reason it made me well up is because, taken four years ago, it marks the last time I was slim and, therefore, the last time I felt happy in my own skin.

Fed up with being overweight, I had started 2019 vowing to diet down to a size 12 for the summer and achieved it by limiting myself to 1,200 calories a day over four months. It was thoroughly miserable but worth it — because when I’m slim, my world is a much better place.

I’m aware that in our ‘body positive’ times, when women are encouraged to love their bodies and ditch diets, many will disapprove of losing weight to feel happier. They’ll argue that the extra pounds aren’t the problem. Actually, for me, they are.

Yes, every High Street shop now stocks clothes beyond a size 20 and plus-size models populate catwalks and fashion campaigns, but the truth is I don’t know a single woman, including the feistiest of feminists, who isn’t happier when she’s slim.

On the cover of last week’s Femail magazine, writer Susannah Jowitt and her mother offered their incendiary and conflicting views on body shape. While Susannah revealed that her mother’s obsession with weight made her fat, her mother confessed that, aged 82, the happiest day of her life was still when she achieved a tiny 24in waist.

An accompanying poll asked Mail readers if being thinner would make them happy — as many as 70 per cent said it would. Well knock me down with a feather (second thoughts, best make that a sack of feathers, as I’m now back up to a size 16).

While 49 per cent agreed that ‘I’ve put on weight in recent years and certainly felt more confident when I was slimmer’, 21 per cent ticked ‘I try not to worry about my size, but when I go clothes shopping I always wish I was thinner’.

Meanwhile, only 10 per cent said they did not feel happier thinner because ‘diets make you miserable and so does obsessing over your weight’; 20 per cent said staying fit and healthy is what makes them happy.

The poll result came as no surprise to me whatsoever. As someone whose weight has yo-yoed over the past 20 years, I know without doubt that I’m always happier, more confident and more sociable when I’m at my slimmest. Since my mid-30s, I’ve been as skinny as a size 8 and as hefty as a size 18.

When I’m thin, clothes hang on my body so much better. There’s no muffin top spilling over the waistband of jeans, no back fat seeping out from underneath my bra.

With a hint of cheekbone and one chin (instead of three), my face photographs better too and I don’t feel panicky when somebody whips out a mobile phone for a selfie. When I’m slim, I’m healthy, confident and much more in love with life.

When I feel fat (and for me that’s a size 14 plus) I’m unhappy. I hate the way clothes look on me, I can’t bear to look in mirrors, I avoid people who I believe might judge me for gaining weight and I turn down invitations to events where I’m going to feel frumpy and self-conscious.

The idea of fat acceptance isn’t new — it has its origins in the 1960s. In the 80s, the term ‘BBW’ (big beautiful woman) was coined. In the 1990s, Dove launched their famous ‘real women’ advertising campaign. But it wasn’t until a decade ago, after the arrival of Instagram, that the movement took hold and morphed into activism, with hashtags such as #celebratemysize and #EffYourBeautyStandards trending on social media.

The activists want women to feel content with their size and stick two fingers up to the diet industry. The only problem is that I don’t know anyone in the real world who agrees. The subject of weight and dieting is prominent and ever-present in my conversations with friends and family.

‘How’s your week been?’ I asked my sister via text at the weekend. ‘Can’t stop eating, have gained three pounds,’ she replied.

Recently somebody I had lost contact with and hadn’t seen for 18 years got back in touch. After covering where we were living and what we were doing for work, the issue of weight came up — as it always does. Both a size 10 last time we met, she was the first to say, ‘I’m so fat now,’ before I echoed the same. We agreed to meet for lunch … but not until we had both lost two stone.

The subject of our body shape and our diets — successful or otherwise — populates my WhatsApp groups with friends, too.

Ally recently lost 10lb before a holiday to Greece (Ritz Crackers and grapefruit in case you’re interested). Kim, a gorgeously curvy size 14, has been seeking advice for what to wear to her daughter’s wedding.

Our suggestions of frocks are usually met with, ‘No, can’t show my arms, has to be long sleeves’ and ‘Too clingy across the boobs, I’ll look like a floozy’.

We’re a group of career women in our mid-50s who’ve known each other for years and there’s never a time when we aren’t miserable that we’re fat or delirious with happiness when we’ve slimmed down. Lately we talk about the anti-obesity medications Ozempic and Saxenda more than we do our families and jobs.

I’m glad we have a body positivity movement, I just wish I could buy what it’s selling. While I don’t agree with the promotion of obesity, which is unhealthy and life-limiting, the acceptance of women in all shapes and sizes should be celebrated. But, in my experience, it rarely is — especially by my peers.

Coming as it does in the age of social media, the positivity movement seems to mostly have captured the imagination of Generation Z, who’ve grown up with bigger bodies being celebrated.

Occasionally, I’ll be out and about and see an overweight younger woman dressed proudly and confidently in a crop top or a short skirt and I’m full of admiration that they don’t hold with the belief that some fashions are only suitable for slim bodies.

I wish I felt the same. I do feel a pang of sadness when I think of the time women spend fretting over their body shapes. But if you’ve lived half a century and you know that being slim is a big part of what makes you happy, then it’s not the place of any individual or movement to deny that, or to make any woman feel guilty or shallow for wanting to be less heavy. Worrying about my spare tyre doesn’t mean I care any less about women’s rights.

In spite of attempts to make women feel flabby and fulfilled, I firmly believe that if you offered any overweight woman the chance to pop a magic pill and wake up thin, 99 out of 100 would take it.

The global weight-loss industry isn’t worth £370 billion for no reason. Women want to be slim.

Today, the blue chinos I’m wearing in the ladies loo photos are still in my wardrobe, but I’ll need to lose four inches from my waist before I can button them up. The only reason I haven’t binned them is because I’ve vowed to lose the lard again.

I’ve set myself the target of Christmas and — if I do it — I know it will be a happy one.

Here three readers share their views on their weight:

‘Nothing is better than a flat stomach’

Personal assistant, Jessica Vihkrlson, 42, lives with her son, seven, in West London.

Weight: 10st 9lb

Dress Size: 12

There is nothing more satisfying in life than a flat stomach, the faint outline of my ribs and a happy smiling face. I’m unapologetic about wanting a slim figure.

I’m almost 6ft 1in — in other words pretty striking anyway. If I was overweight as well, I would look ridiculous.

Those who say tall women can carry the extra weight are kidding themselves. As for the body positive movement, I’m not judgy but it’s total codswallop, isn’t it?

It’s fine in your 20s or 30s but where will that attitude take you in your 60s and 70s when you develop all of the known health issues that come with being overweight?

By then it will be too late because the damage — heart disease, arthritis, diabetes — will already have been done. People need to find the time to exercise and eat properly. Take it from me, you will look healthier and feel happier when you’re thinner.

While I love being a mum, I didn’t love being so big during my pregnancy and worked hard to get my figure back. I’m a dress size larger (size 12) today than I was before having children (size 10) and I’ve made peace with that.

I’m not perfect and last year I had a depressive period when I gained half a stone without realising. I felt awful and looked awful.

To fix the problem I printed off a picture of me in my favourite bikini and stuck it on the fridge. It took me three months to lose it.

Now I’m comfortable in my body. Looking like this makes life good.

‘Men ignored me until I put on weight’

Study skills tutor Emma Donaldson, 54, is single and she lives in Leicester.

Weight: 16 st

Dress Size: 24

I was thin during my teens and 20s. My nickname at university was beanpole. While women complimented me on my size 10 figure, men didn’t even notice me. And when I look back at that willowy woman, I see someone who always found something wrong with her reflection.

It was only when I put weight on in my 30s that my love life took off. I went up to a size 16 and it was a revelation. Men would chat to me at parties. Finally, I was no longer being ignored by the opposite sex.

Today, I’m 16 st and I like to say my figure has flourished over the past 20 years. There is no way being thin made me happier — quite the reverse.

I was well ahead of the curve in terms of the body positive movement. Yet it irks me that I spent my formative years living under the shadow of those impossibly thin supermodels.

That’s why I welcome the younger generation calling out fashion’s ideals as irresponsible. I’m proof that being thin doesn’t lead to happiness.

‘I want to look hot for as long as I can’

Retired civil servant Emma Parsons-Reid, 56, is married with a daughter and five grandchildren. She lives in Cardiff with her husband.

Weight: 12st 11lb

Dress Size: 16

Today, I am two stone lighter than I was two years ago and the difference it has made to life is phenomenal. It’s easier to wear nice clothes and I feel good when men and women do a double take — my legs are now slim and toned because I go to the gym regularly.

At 56, I’m receiving more attention than ever — and my husband loves it. In my 40s, the menopause hit and I took my eye off the ball. It was when I experienced back problems that I had my wake up call to do something about my weight. I went to the gym and started to feel better about myself.

When the body positive advocates reach my age, they’ll realise how being fat damages your body. I see so many obese women my age who rely on walking aids or even a wheelchair.

I want to be that smug older woman still turning heads. Being thinner is so much more fun. I want to look as hot as I can for as long as I can.