“Misty clearly has an aptitude for acting,” Mr. Stevens said. “Ballet in some ways is so competitive that it’s not unusual for dancers to forefront their strengths and background their weaknesses. She goes right there and isn’t afraid.”
’s almost like they haven’t been reading our thinkpieces.
On his left, Antoine takes up the tale. “The thing is, the political class don’t listen to people like us. People call us extremists, but we just want someone who will make sure that the lights stay on and not do something stupid, like take us out of the European union.”
. . . the problem with women’s self-image has never, ever been that our bottles of soap are not shaped enough like our bodies. In fact, isn’t part of the problem that our bodies are treated like objects? Perhaps making our objects look more like our bodies is not the way to go . . . The ways that we talk about women’s body shapes have always seemed designed to dodge the actual reality of bodies. The most common approach to classifying body types makes us sound like a sort of Renaissance memento mori still life: the apple, the pear, the hourglass. Other times we’re reduced to simple geometric forms, like diamond and triangle. Some clothing companies develop their own cute taxonomies; Lane Bryant, for instance, used to sort waist-to-hip ratios into red, yellow and blue. Often they congratulate themselves for acknowledging that women come in as many as six or eight shapes.
Nicole Chung’s debut memoir All You Can Ever Knowwill be published inOctober 2018. Her essays and articles have appeared in The New York Times, GQ, Longreads, Shondaland, BuzzFeed, and Hazlitt, among many others. She is the web editor-in-chief of Catapult and the former managing editor of The Toast. Find her on Twitter: @nicole_soojung