Individuality and the Imperfections of Perfection; A Critical Look at the Modeling Industry
Sierra Cameron
Eliza Glass
When I was fifteen a stranger asked me if I had ever considered modeling. Optimistic that the title “model” would dissolve all my teenage insecurities, I eagerly accepted her business card and soon after, signed a contract with the agency she represented. Although modeling never became a huge part of my life the way my fifteen year old self had hoped it would, nearly three years involved with the industry helped me understand it in a new light. I ultimately decided to terminate my contract a few months ago for two reasons. First, I felt that my morals didn’t align with many of the industry’s practices and second, being a model did not eliminate my physical insecurities. If anything, it made them much worse.
Dictionary.com defines a model as “a standard or example for imitation or comparison.” A model’s job is to look perfect in every advertisement–whether it be for clothes, make-up or otherwise–so that envious consumers buy the product in hopes that it will have the same effect on them. Models must fit so perfectly into society’s standard of beauty that everyone strives to resemble them in any way they can. Unfortunately, the standard of beauty that the industry perpetuates is narrow and specific, making modeling a toxic job that values cutthroat competition and exclusivity.
I believe that I was scouted for my height. Growing up, I was always a bit taller than my friends and when they stopped growing, I did not. Although I was used to being abnormally tall, it always made me insecure and I didn’t see any value in my height until modeling was proposed. However, when certain casting calls only requested models over 5’10, I was ecstatic that my 5’11 body was giving me access to opportunities that not everyone had access to. However, oftentimes, this height requirement was paired with measurement requirements–measurements I didn’t fit, measurements I couldn’t believe anyone of that height fit. According to Forbes, the average American woman is approximately 5’4 and a US size 16-18; yet the modeling industry continues to seek and glorify the 5’10, size 0 woman. Unsurprisingly, in studies performed by Stanford University and the University of Massachusetts, 70% of college women reported feeling worse about their appearance after reading women’s magazines. If their job is to provide a “standard for imitation,” shouldn’t the average model reflect the average woman?
If their job is to provide a “standard for imitation,” shouldn’t the average model reflect the average woman?
The modeling industry certainly breeds a toxic comparison culture; but beyond that, it deems beauty a competition in which there are winners and losers. There isn’t enough room for everyone to exist as uniquely beautiful so the industry only seeks out who they consider to be the most beautiful by restrictive and outdated standards. Oftentimes, the “winner” is the one willing to sacrifice the most for their success. A model’s body is her (and her agency’s) most prized possession and she must present every client with the figure they were promised. The immense pressure to maintain and even shrink their body leads many models to obsess over their eating and exercising habits to a concerning degree. According to a study done by researchers at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health and Northeastern University, 62% of models have been told to lose weight by their agencies and 81% of these models were already underweight according to the BMI scale. Therefore, the modeling industry is guilty of glorifying an unauthentic, unnatural, and almost completely unattainable image of beauty. Instead of using its power to broaden our collective understanding and appreciation of beauty, the modeling industry continues to perpetuate a toxic ideal that stains too many young women with a deeply personal sense of inadequacy.
Instead of using its power to broaden our collective understanding and appreciation of beauty, the modeling industry continues to perpetuate a toxic ideal that stains too many young women with a deeply personal sense of inadequacy.
I find myself subject to this when, upon looking in the mirror, I instinctively gravitate my attention towards the aspects of my appearance that I am unsatisfied with. My body is the facet of my identity that I have the least control over, and yet it consistently has the most control over my confidence, happiness, and overall sense of worth at any given moment. Unfortunately, this sentiment is not unique to models. In fact, according to the National Organization for Women, 53% of girls in the United States feel unhappy with their bodies at age thirteen and 78% feel this way by age seventeen.
We aren’t born insecure. We aren’t born ashamed of a well fed stomach. We aren’t born wanting to pump silicone into our breasts or slather cellulite cream on our thighs. We aren’t born worried about these things because they aren’t inherent reasons for concern. It’s only when our mind surrenders to society that the body becomes imperfect.
My roommate and I recently decided to tape pictures of our younger selves to our mirror so that when we critique ourselves now, we’re forced to admit we’re also criticizing those innocent girls beaming through chubby cheeks and crooked teeth. In the photos, I’m riding a rocking horse and she’s playing with flowers. Our bodies are functioning the way they are intended to and that’s all it takes to make us smile so radiantly. Back then, we didn’t associate our bodies with our worth because innately, the two things have nothing to do with each other. In a perfect world, we’d have never lost sight of this. In one of my favorite songs called “House With No Mirrors,” Sasha Sloane sings, “If I lived in a house with no mirrors / Where the walls didn't talk back at me / Maybe I'd dream a bit bigger /If there was nothin' to see.” We aren’t born insecure. We aren’t born ashamed of a well fed stomach. We aren’t born wanting to pump silicone into our breasts or slather cellulite cream on our thighs. We aren’t born worried about these things because they aren’t inherent reasons for concern. It’s only when our mind surrenders to society that the body becomes imperfect.
Photography & Models, Lillian Shattuck, Zari Garfield, Emily Strasburg, Eliza Glass, Andrew Neumann, Gavyn Davies, Zeke Hooper