YES
By Isabel Oakeshott
Forgive me, for I have sinned. In a tweet last week, I was blunt about the dangers of being fat.
In return, I received a tirade of abuse and death threats. Well sorry: not sorry. As the NHS battles with the effects of a national obesity crisis, it’s time for a few home truths.
It all started when I came across a gigantic mannequin in a London fitness store. Sporting a lurid, lime-green puffer jacket over a matching velour sports bra and leggings, she looked like a sumo wrestler.
Not only was she morbidly obese; she was about 9 ft tall, which meant her belly and thighs were right in my face.
Isabel Oakeshott and Sarah Vine debate the impact of the Fabletics store on London's Regent Street using plus-size mannequins (pictured)
I tweeted that such attempts to appease the body positivity movement — which preaches the unquestioned championing of all shapes and sizes — are not inclusive, but dangerous. And all hell broke loose.
Perhaps if she’d had a head, she might have looked like a modern-day Titian, proudly displaying her curves as she towered over mere mortals. As it was, the faceless and strangely out-of-proportion wonder was more freaky than fabulous.
Don’t get me wrong: big can be beautiful. Plus-size models such as Ashley Graham are stunning, as are millions of ordinary girls and women who are not a size 8 or 10. Moreover, fit certainly does not have to mean thin. As any doctor will attest, it’s more about being strong and lean than a particular dress size.
But morbid obesity is not a state to be celebrated: it is dangerous. As the UK grapples with a huge weight problem, my worry is that brands are promoting very large body shapes as if there is nothing wrong or unhealthy with that physique.
A growing number of clothing companies are using larger figures. Nike introduced plus-size mannequins into its flagship London store in June 2019, and Debenhams used size 16 models in stores from 2013.
This strategy reflects typical body shapes among their customer bases, but will do little to reduce the UK’s gross national tonnage.
However, as I discovered when I waded into this toxic issue, the body-positive movement has no time for dissenters. Anyone who challenges the philosophy that all physiques are equal can expect vicious abuse.
I admire anyone who is determined to get fitter. For most people, being in good shape requires a huge amount of effort, vigilance and restraint, especially in January.
Isabel (pictured) tweeted attempts to appease the body positivity movement — which preaches the unquestioned championing of all shapes and sizes — are not inclusive, but dangerous
So if the lime-green giantess in the window of the Fabletics store on London’s Regent Street was designed to send the message that women should not let a few extra kilos stand in the way of their picking up a kettlebell, then I salute her — along with anyone she might inspire to delete the Deliveroo app and start converting flab to muscle.
The problem is the aggressive drive to promote social acceptance of obesity. It started in America, championed by stars such as singer-songwriter Lizzo, an icon for what she calls the ‘18+ club’, here a size 22. She lauds ‘girls with back fat, girls with bellies that hang, girls with thighs that overlap’ and has declared it’s time to normalise obesity.
A growing number of UK retailers are jumping on board and it’s no wonder, when the plus-size market is expected to be worth £9 billion this year. Just look at Doc Martens’ Tough As You campaign, starring a scantily clad plus-size model in a bra and cycling shorts boasting that she can do what she wants. Surrounded by a crew waving ‘Be Yourself’ placards, this young woman holds aloft her own banner which reads: ‘You are not alive to lose weight and pay bills’.
Death threats will not stop me saying fat shouldn’t be a source of pride
She isn’t just overweight — she is morbidly obese. In a quest to ‘be kind’, the body positivity movement insists that’s fine when, in truth — as Covid has tragically shown — it can be a death sentence.
Almost two-thirds of UK adults are classed as overweight or obese and so are many children. According to one report, weight gain during the pandemic has left a quarter of ten and 11-year-olds in England overweight, prompting experts to warn of ‘devastating’ health consequences.
A million hospital admissions a year are linked to obesity. This is expected to cost the NHS £10 billion a year by 2050. For women, being grossly overweight can cause fertility problems, as well as raise the risk of heart disease, stroke and diabetes. We have to stop pretending this is OK.
Isabel asks why should it be more acceptable to promote figures that are dangerously fat, than glamorising sickly-thin figures. Pictured: Nike mannequin
In the 1990s, the fashion industry was rightly condemned for parading emaciated models. So-called ‘heroin chic’, characterised by young girls who looked like they were on the brink of starvation (and sometimes literally were, as in the tragic case of anorexic French model Isabelle Caro, who died aged 28) was blamed for projecting an impossible and dangerous physical ideal and fuelling eating disorders.
Amid public outcry, fashion houses were banned from using these waifs. Companies such as Dove led the way in celebrating normal body shapes.
Morbid obesity is not a state to be celebrated
There was widespread
