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Yes, Thin Privilege Exists, but Skinny Shaming is Still Not Okay

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Nottingham chapter.

Although it may be hard to believe at times, the world is slowly becoming a better place to live. The recent body positivity movement has seen more and more brands celebrate diverse body shapes by introducing ā€™plus-sizeā€™ models who are more representative of the average person.Ā 

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But unfortunately, discrimination towards body-types still pervades in society with body-shaming a common phenomenon. The likelihood is that in hearing the term ā€˜body-shamingā€™ your mind automatically pictures an overweight person being subject to prejudice, taking the brunt of an offensive joke. This is a telling sign. Fat-phobia is the most common form of body-shaming and fat-shaming is far more prevalent in society than its counterpart, skinny-shaming. We know that the repercussions of fat-shaming are dangerous. Not only is it psychologically damaging, but it normalises it as an acceptable social bias.

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ā€˜Thin privilegeā€™ very much exists. Fundamentally, privilege is an advantage or benefit granted to a specific person or group due to some characteristic they possess. Slim people tend to encounter this daily. Despite recent efforts, a slim body is still often perceived as the ideal female body-type, partly due to the pervasive pressures of the weight loss industry. As a result, smaller women are more likely to get complimented on their appearance than someone who is overweight. But the prejudices against larger women are more systematically entrenched in society than this trivialisation. According to a survey by Crossland Employment Solicitor, 45% of UK employers surveyed admitted they were less inclined to recruit an applicant at the interview stage if they were obese.Ā 

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However, the term ā€˜thin privilegeā€™ is problematic. Like any discourse surrounding privilege, it heavily depends on the context. It goes without saying, not all slim people are privileged in a general sense, be that financially, racially, or socially. Recent discourse has confused ā€˜thin privilegeā€™ with the misconception that only privileged people are thin. The idea is that slim people look that way because they can afford to buy healthier foods, purchase gym memberships, and have more free time to exercise. While a privileged social standing will likely make it easier to control your body shape, itā€™s certainly not always the case.Ā 

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Either way, in the context of this debate thereā€™s no doubt that slimmer people are met with certain advantages in society. But this does not set a precedent for skinny-shaming as acceptable. To set the record straight; all body-shaming is wrong.Ā 

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Itā€™s a myth that thinner people donā€™t face prejudice too. Whether you consider it comparable to fat-shaming is up for debate and irrelevant to this conversation. The point is, it happens. As a naturally skinny person, I can speak from experience. Like most women, Iā€™ve felt self-conscious about my body. Iā€™ve often used self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism, but itā€™s other peopleā€™s comments that hurt. Throughout my teens, people would often be suspicious that I had an eating disorder. Although this was sometimes a sincere concern for my health, more often it was a snide remark; a whisper that could be heard making its way across the gym hall. In most cases, I could be seen in baggy clothing, grateful to be disguising my arms and legs.Ā 

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People often feel entitled to question my eating habits too. Iā€™m sure most slim people can relate to being told to ā€˜go eat somethingā€™, but why should it be deemed acceptable to publicly discuss our food choices just because weā€™re smaller in size? Once I ordered a salad at a friendā€™s birthday party only to be questioned on my decision as if I wasnā€™t free to choose what I wanted to eat. I struggle to put on any weight, and believe me, Iā€™d like to in certain places. I eat three meals a day, indulge in dessert and sugary snacks, and I donā€™t exercise as much as I probably should, but itā€™s something I have little control over. No matter how much I reassure people of this, Iā€™m often met with incredulity.Ā 

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The recent body-positivity movement is a wonderful thing. Iā€™m all for celebrating women of diverse shapes and sizes. Seeing unhealthy size-zero models on strict diets is not only outdated but psychologically damaging for so many women. But celebrating plus-size women does not have to mean ostracising naturally slim women from the narrative. Pop-culture has created an obsession with curvier women as sex symbols, large boobs, large bum, clinched waste. Once again, a largely unrealistic and unachievable body standard. As someone with no curves, narrow hips, very small breasts and a considerably flat derriere, itā€™s made me feel undesirable and unattractive.Ā 

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Growing up, I was led to believe that skinny ā€˜lankyā€™ people like myself arenā€™t sexy. As I was told as a teen, ā€˜boys donā€™t like girls who are skin and boneā€™. Even as recently as 2014 Meghan Trainor released a song with lyrics that read, ā€˜don’t worry about your size /ā€¦boys like a little more booty to hold at nightā€™. I think her intentions were in the right place, but the implicit insult is indisputable.

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The popularity of the Kardashian-Jenner clan and their famous physiques has played into this notion too. Kendall has long been the family exception with her tall height and skinny frame; she recently came under fire for promoting unrealistic body standards after posting a photo to her Instagram modelling the SKIMS Valentineā€™s range. Undeniably, with her endless legs, toned stomach and airbrushed skin, she looked like the embodiment of brunette Barbie. But soon after, my social media was filled with friends announcing their decision to unfollow her. I totally respect people for taking a proactive measure to improve their mental health and self-image, but it made me question how many followers I might lose if I posted a similar photo. Ignoring the fact her photo was likely photoshopped, Iā€™m by no means implying that Iā€™m akin to Kendall Jenner. Yet, itā€™s quite possible that people may decide to unfollow me because seeing my body could damage their confidence in themselves. Itā€™s a disheartening thought; celebrating body-positivity should include all body types.Ā 

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Studies suggest your genes determine up to 80% of your weight and body shape. This essentially means that any form of prejudice towards someone for their size is futile. Youā€™re commenting on something largely out of their control, the same as insulting their nose shape or hair colour. In most peopleā€™s eyes, Iā€™m fortunate because I have a fast metabolism. But the existence of a fast metabolism entails the existence of its antithesis, a slower metabolism. No amount of dieting or calory-counting will ever be able to control these factors.Ā 

Itā€™s important that we encourage these sorts of conversations so that people understand other peopleā€™s experiences. I acknowledge that I have a privileged position, but Iā€™m also worthy of respect. I should also be entitled to celebrate my body without being shamed for my size in the same way Tess Holliday can celebrate hers. After all, the world would be a boring place if we were all the same

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I'm Lilith, a final year English and Philosophy student at Nottingham. I'm an aspiring journalist interested in writing investigative features and opinion pieces, especially on the topic of mental health. I have an unhealthy obsession with house plants which I love to paint in my free time.
Jess Smith

Nottingham '21

2020/2021 Editor-in-Chief for HerCampus Nottingham. Aspiring Journalist, with a lot of love for all things bookish. Final Year Sociology student, with a primary interest in Gender Studies, Film Analysis & Mental Health!