Fashioning Fat: Inside Plus-Size Modeling (22 page)

Because we understand curvy women, we know that the fit of your curvy underwear matters. For that reason we provide not only a wide range of sizes to choose from, but create every curvy bra and panty with support, comfort and fit in mind. From microfiber technology in your under-wire bra, to lightly lined tummy control panties, you can be sure that we always aim to make you comfortable and help you get the right fit for your curves.
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The collection aims to “enhance and support a curvy woman’s natural curves” because “you and your curves are sexy, so flatter them!” Sculptresse by Panache also gears its products to a plus-size customer who is concerned with form and function. It offers special design features such as a smooth-shaped wing, cushioned hook and eye closure, and fully adjustable straps that sit closer together on the shoulder.

Ultimately, these retailers provide fat women with options that traditional retailers have not. The brand summary statement by Luscious Plus Lingerie sums up these aims:

You are Bodacious, Bold & Beautiful. Whether you want to pamper yourself, treading outside of your comfort zone, adding a little spice into your life or exploring new intimacy trends, we have something just for you and in your size . . . Luscious Plus Lingerie LLC is setting new standards of sexiness for our curvy ladies, allowing you to feel just as sexy and sensual as anyone else, we are vastly moving away from the limitations of floppy flower prints, to steamy leather, popular animal prints, glittered items, two-piece sets and an inventory of full figured sexy, silky, laced up corsets and much, much more.
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The corset re-imagined for the plus-size woman, by Hips and Curves.

By presenting consumers with the image of a sexually charged curvy woman, these retailers attempt to recapture the lost femininity of a fat woman and transform her into an empowered woman, empowered enough to make a purchase. As a woman seeks bras and lingerie that hug her curves and support her breasts, plus-size lingerie companies offer her a variety of options, from plain and sturdy to sexy and lacy. A woman of any size can potentially transform herself into an object of desire and enter her own fantasy.

The presence of these provocative images and rise of plus-size models expand the fashion landscape and challenge cultural conceptions of beauty. As the plus-size model gains status in the modeling industry, she also becomes more visible to consumers. Posing within magazines and on the web, a plus-size model presents an alternative image of a fat woman that is designed to soften the stigma of fat. Instead of covering up their fat, these plus-size models strip down and arch their backs to emphasize their curves. An advertisement for Sculptresse by Panache exemplifies this type of imagery. The model, dressed in a bright pink bra and panty set, assumes a pose reminiscent of a 1950s pinup girl, complete with a parasol.

The highly stylized image in the ad calls for a rejection of bodily shame and respect for feminine beauty. Kneeling before the viewer, she tilts her head to expose the sensual curves of her neck. While this body positioning speaks of vulnerability, she still commands attention. She smiles with a come-hither stare. Flesh is exposed, and the viewer is challenged to see all of her plus-size body as sexual, desirable, and beautiful.

While this performance of fat appears to support a form of sexual liberation for plus-size women, it is really an act of reproducing heteronormative bodily ideals and what Samantha Murray calls “an obsession with the visible.”
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Her very pose is an imitation of sexual displays of women throughout the twentieth century and today. The Sculptresse brand, itself, is a “fuller-figured” version of Panache lingerie; Cacique is a facsimile of its “little” sister Victoria’s Secret. The look of her curvy (yet smoothed and toned) body, aided with properly fitting and stylish lingerie, is of the utmost importance as fashion continues to privilege aesthetic ideals. Fashion commodifies and reduces this model to a sexual object subject to the male gaze. The difference, however, is that the branding message teaches her that she is as desirable as a “thin” model. In the end, there is no counter aesthetic presented in these images—just differently sized bodies.

An advertisement for Sculptresse by Panache that exemplifies the use of 1950s pinup girl imagery.

In the marketing of intimate apparel, the commodified fat body becomes embodied and visualized in order to attract (1) an underserved niche market that is (2) on a quest for better fit and style options in order to (3) bring sexy back to the full-figured. The sexualization of the fat body is an attempt to reclaim femininity and beauty amid a fat-phobic society. Plus-size retailers create a new image to attract a fashion-starved demographic. In exposing the taboo of the fat body, these images tell us that plus-size models, even if they are fat, are beautiful and sexy. These plus-size models convey this message of body acceptance through affective labor. Retailers hope that the intended consumer connects with the image and makes a purchase, thus legitimizing this carefully constructed visual plan to overhaul the dominant cultural discourse on fat.

These marketing campaigns contain an inspirational component. On set, the photography team invites the models to imagine themselves as seductive characters and pose for the camera in slinky lingerie. These characters can be kinky, provocative, but, ultimately, imaginary. The images of these plus-size models are airbrushed, retouched, and altered. Extra rolls of skin are smoothed and removed. In the end, the images
displayed on these lingerie websites present a retooled fat body that is, at last, acceptable, but imitations of heteronormative constructions of beauty.

In the final chapter, I conclude with a discussion of what is absent from these fantastical images of exposed flesh and exaggerated curves—the backstage labor process involved in creating these images and a concern for health. Amid this retooled deviant body that is purposefully sexualized, there is no mention of the aesthetic labor these models engage in to achieve that image, nor is there mention of the increased risk for heart disease and diabetes among fat women. Fashion professionals present a marketable image of a “plus-size” beauty in a desirable, slick, and superficially happy package, hiding her flaws, physical labor, and health concerns from consumers.

I walked up the steps of “Fashion Hall” in midtown Manhattan. As workers literally rolled out the red carpet in preparation for the night’s main event, I scampered up the steps to seek shelter from the gentle drizzle. Once inside, I found myself in a gilded hall amidst a process of transformation, echoing one that I, too, was to undergo that afternoon. In four hours, I would walk down a fashion runway.

As production staff dashed around, setting up chairs along the constructed runway, I headed to the rear of the hall toward the makeshift backstage area. Behind the partitions, three plus-size models awaited instructions as Michelle, the style director for the fashion show, scurried in and out of the ladies room. She was busy fitting a model for a morning show appearance the next day. As she multitasked, we—the models for the show that evening—waited. Throughout the afternoon, eight more models arrived to participate in the evening’s festivities.

Half an hour later, an assistant instructed us to head over to hair and makeup. As the hair stylists and makeup crew set up, the thought of my forthcoming debut on a New York City runway overwhelmed me.
Feeling like a fish out of water, could I really pull this off? Would my inexperience be evident on the catwalk? While I had previously “worked the runway” at a
Seventeen
/Macy’s event, that was almost a decade ago. Could I really do this now?

I plopped into the first chair for hair. The hair stylist decided on a “loose ’do with a flip.” She slathered a volumizing cream on the top of
my head and rolled the top layers of hair in Velcro rollers. While the rollers set, she shooed me over to makeup. Once in the makeup chair, the makeup artist applied a base layer of foundation on my face with a sponge and fluffed powder atop my nose and across my forehead.

As the makeup artist attended to my eyes, a production assistant gave us a ten-minute warning for our runway rehearsal and reminded us to wear our heels to practice our strut. While the other models rushed to their garment bags to change into their heels, I remained in my chair. Perhaps indicative of modeling inexperience or a by-product of living day-to-day in style-centric New York, I had been wearing a pair of “sexy, thin-heeled” ankle boots, a staple in my winter wardrobe, the entire time.

As we headed to the staging area, an unabashed, flamboyant runway specialist named Charleston greeted us. “Walk in your natural groove and have fun,” he reassured us. “We want big smiles,” he commanded. Charleston demonstrated our route down the runway, indicating the points where we were to pose and turn. Then, it was our turn to walk down the catwalk.

As we each took our turn, he became our personal cheerleader, lauded us on our sass, and encouraged us to have fun. It was my turn. With my hair still in curlers, I held my head up high and struck my first pose. As the model before me turned to head off the stage, I stepped forward and strutted down the runway, as Charleston cried out, “Fierce . . . oh, you know you’re fierce!”

Back in the makeup chair, the makeup artist finished lining my eyes for a smoky eye look and brushed a raspberry tinted gloss onto my lips. “You have a great walk, my love. You’re a natural,” she assured me as she applied the finishing touches. Next, I headed back to the hair station, where the hair stylist removed the Velcro rollers and brushed, fluffed, and sprayed my hair into place.

Earlier, Michelle had left to retrieve our wardrobe for the show. Someone had prearranged a bike messenger to deliver a couple thousand dollars worth of dresses to the event, but, since it was raining, Michelle took a car to pick them up and avert a fashion disaster. Less than an hour and a half until we were scheduled to hit the runway, she had not returned
with our little black dresses. We waited and finished our primping in hair and makeup.

With less than an hour until show time, Michelle finally arrived with the dresses, and we scurried to finish our transformations. While huddled behind the runway, Michelle’s assistant doled out the dresses to us. She handed me the smallest dress in her arsenal, one that was at least two sizes too big. I tried it on and, luckily, due to the color and the type of material, the designer halter dress gracefully draped my frame. Afterward, we moved to the accessory station. The stylist handed me a scarlet, beaded necklace with a golden pendant and logged it in her ledger.

At six o’clock, the stage manager instructed us to line up, where I was assigned the second spot in the lineup. Ten minutes later, the production team hushed the atmosphere music, and an announcer called the audience’s attention to the stage. Donning a black lace dress, Michelle stepped out from behind the scrim onto the runway. She welcomed the enthusiastic crowd and introduced the collection. The stage manager directed the first model to start and told me to hit my first mark, i.e., step out onto the runway and pose.

As I emerged from behind the scrim, a stream of blinding flashes illuminated my silhouette as I struck my first pose.
Smile. Have fun. Oh, and don’t trip!
I heard the music pumping, and internalized the beat to use as a guide for my walk.

I took my first step down the runway.

Michelle introduced me to the crowd and detailed my outfit. As I stopped to pose again at the top of the runway, photographers fiercely focused their cameras on me to capture the look in that moment. The thrill of all the attention intoxicated me. With Michelle’s voice floating over the music, I soaked in my moment. I felt fierce.

My short glimpse into the realm of modeling revealed this illusion. With each click of a camera or strut down a runway, the spectacle seduced me.
As a model pampered and dressed in the latest fashions, I attest to the ease with which a model may get lost in the moment and feel liberated from a stigma. Under the spell of a “cultural goal of becoming photographable,” I no longer felt like an ordinary woman.
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As a model, I believed that I was special, a standout among the crowd, and no longer burdened by my failure to live up to the engendered bodily ideal of thinness. As models of resistance against a negative cultural discourse surrounding the fat body, these women expose their bodies of curves without shame. For those brief moments, they emerge victorious, reclaim their femininity, and feel empowered.