A propos of this similarity in "hot" women's bodies, I've been intending to watch the new ABC program, "Are you hot?" for quite some time now. I'm a big fan of sadistic reality TV shows, and hoped it would provide as much entertainment as "Fear Factor" or the first few episodes of "American Idol." However, I wasn't sure when it was on, so I went online recently to look it up and check out the progress of the show. On ABC's site, I noticed a picture gallery of the contestants, and decided to catch up on the show's progress. As I looked through the pictures, I could not help but notice the obvious: each looked remarkably like the previous one, and the next. Of course there were little differences-X was slightly taller than Y, and A was black while B was white-but none of those women could have been bigger than a size four. I couldn't help remembering a scene in Eminem's "The Real Slim Shady" music video, where rows and rows of Eminem clones step off a conveyor belt in a factory. In this situation, however, the factory is the gym, coupled with various eating disorders, and the products are hordes of women who look exactly the same. When this happens, how do we judge who the "hottest" woman is? When there's practically nothing to differentiate each contestant from the next, the criteria on which they are judged become the most minute of things, and I dare not even hazard a guess as to what these might be. All I can say is that we're in a sad, sad culture where women are considered attractive not because there's something different or especially eye-catching about them, but because they look exactly like everyone else.
I suppose this is evident to me and not many other people because I haven't grown up in this country. In Ghana, where I live, no one really cares much about what other people's bodies look like beneath all the clothes they usually tend to have on, even in 90-degree weather. This is a result of convention and social norms-women who have gone out in what other people consider indecent or shameful have been publicly stripped naked. And their humiliation makes headlines in tabloid newspapers the next day. It's hardly a religious practice, as in Islamic nations, merely a moral conviction that there is an appropriate place and time for everything, and nudity is best confined to one's bedroom.
Living in such an environment, the first thing I noticed about my new American schoolmates, when I arrived in late summer, was their shorts-or lack thereof. These skimpy creations looked to me like what many Ghanaian women wore to the beach (paired with t-shirts) in place of the more revealing bathing suits. Of course, I hadn't yet encountered thong bikinis. What struck me then about the American, or western, female body, was that it was intended for blatant public display. This accounted for the strange practices I observed-shaving legs, getting Brazilian waxes, pairing low riders with thong underwear, navel piercings and tattoos in strategic places. All of these were meant for the viewing pleasure-or displeasure-of the general public.
In order to avoid the latter, i.e., disgusting the general public, one will usually need to possess a body capable of flaunting the latest trends in unrestricted nudity. For guidance, and examples, we look to the "hottest" stars in the music and movie industry, who have managed to whittle down their waists into nonexistence and might as well, for the most part, have been pressed into the same mold. And every effort is made to emulate these people-how did they get those bodies? Going to the gym, low-carb, no-carb, low-calorie, outright starvation. Whatever it takes. And congratulations, because we've made it! We now look exactly like them, and like each other, with skin clinging tightly to ribcages and stringy muscles-what more could we wish for? Ironically, the American ideal of individual self-expression has been smothered by this desire for uniformity in women's outward appearances.
I'm not criticizing this desire to look like everyone else, because I've been here long enough to understand, and appreciate, the pressures to squeeze into the mold. I wonder, though, how everyone would look if they didn't work out obsessively or have eating disorders, and were content to grow into the body types they were born with. To me, this country seems to have two extremes: those who spend every waking moment working on fitting into the mold, and others who ignore it altogether, as well as their own well-being and end up suing fast-food chains or parading on the ads for various weight-loss products. There are hardly any people taking the way of moderation and discovering for themselves what their natural body shapes will be as they blossom into womanhood.
Spring break is almost upon us, and summer just around the corner. Headed for exotic beaches around the globe, we frantically make last minute attempts to get rid of the spare tire, that little unappealing bulge which disqualifies us from wearing bikinis with strings that rival strands of hair in thinness. Just for one day, take a break from grueling workouts and celery with peanut butter. Try to gradually wean yourself off that desire to look like all those other women. Dare to be different.