"My Body Desperately Wants to Be This Size"
An interview with five women about the costs of being a body at work
Mode/Switch: You each read an Economist article, asking if it’s financially smart for women to try to be skinny. The article says, yes. What about you?
Andrea: Trying to be thin has consumed so much of my life since I was probably 10. It's depressing. But it's also this thing that it feels like we haven't talked about in the workplace as much as we have things like race or sexual orientation, and in this case people can still be openly discriminatory. They can say, “It's about your health.” People can just be assholes about it.
You know, it's hard because it's not like somebody is going to tell you, “I didn't hire you because you're fat.” I couldn't even tell you the direct places where I pick up this perception. But somehow our society has told me that people look at a fat body and think, “Laziness,” or, “You're not gonna do a good job because you can't maintain yourself.” I would imagine that other plus-sized women have felt this, that people see it as some sort of moral failing to be plus-sized.
My body desperately wants to be this size. The thinnest I've been was during the worst part of my life. I was essentially starving to be a “normal,” socially acceptable size. My body wants to be this size. (But when the apocalypse happens, I'm gonna outlive all these skinny bitches, because my body wants to hold on to that fat!)
Aubrey: Being the owner of a youthful body—especially in my particular industry—I'm the youngest person at my firm by a long shot, and I am client-facing. One of my clients is a big hospital in the area, and we just went last week to have our quarterly meeting in person. The things that went through my head: Make sure my nails are painted. Make sure my acne is covered up (which means I have to pull out the good concealer today). Make sure that my hair is curled.
If we're thinking of an economy of of thinness or an economy of presentation, it feels very intense for me. I know that when you just look at me, you're gonna say, “What is this 18-year-old doing telling me what investments I should make?”
Bethany: Across the board, thin privilege is definitely a thing. But like anything with being a woman in public, it's a double bind. Thin often reads as young. And when I was young, I put more into that, like dressing professionally, wear a lot of blazers so that I didn't get mistaken for a student. That happened through my 30s.
Rachel: None of us are black. I don't know a whole lot about the hair community for people of color. But those prices blow my mind. I'm rocking a haircut right now that I spent $60.00 on, and I get it done once a year. It's like a yearly shearing. We get it back to base, and then I forget about it. I can straighten it. I can put it in a ponytail. No one really cares. But for black women, that is such a different story. Different costs for different populations and different sizes and different skin colors. It's a bigger a bigger issue, depending on the woman that you ask.
Andrea: This is another place where we can thank black women. The body positivity movement—black women have opened the door for any of this conversation.
Mode/Switch: What are some of the hidden costs you carry for being your body at work?
Rosalia: I'm a pretty hardcore thrifter, and even with that, especially with inflation now, a week’s worth of clothing—at least $150.00. (But it’s a time suck.)
Rachel: I work in marketing, so there's these special events. I went to DC, and it was with all of these military professionals, and I had to get a gown. I'm only 5 foot. So floor-length gowns are a problem. Every time I have to be faced with my own height. But then, it's the cost of them. I'm going to wear this one time, and even to rent it is going to set me back like $100. I had to do all of this and put all of this energy into questions like, “Can I borrow something? Do I have the money in the budget to do that? How am I going to move money around? Is this gonna rip? Do I feel comfortable? Am I too exposed? Is this my color? I have no idea.”
That's such a lot of mental energy to put towards something. It should just be my brain and my abilities, but it it never really is.
Andrea: I have a ton of gray hair. I dye it. (Men are allowed to go gray.) My face moisturizer costs over $70—creams to try to stay young, to try to get rid of acne. I have two. Those are both fairly expensive.
Rosalia: In 2020, I had a pretty severe change in weight, because I had gastric bypass. I lost like over 200 pounds. As the world was changing, my body was going through a huge shift as well.
Before COVID, it was a struggle for me just to find clothing, let alone, professional clothing, professional shoes. After Covid, in the corporate situation, everyone else was chilling out a little. My CEO is all about tennis shoes. Nice tennis shoes, but tennis shoes, you know?
Bethany: The trend now is something called Wrong Shoe Theory: your shoes shouldn't match your outfit. And that's what style is. I'm on board for that.
Aubrey: I feel the need to look sophisticated, and to look sophisticated takes money. I think about my nail polish needs to be gel, because if I have a chip in my nail they're gonna know that I'm young and reckless.
Rachel: Aubrey, you talked about the amount of care to look young and keep young and keep healthy-looking. I don't know if I ever really considered the cost of a good moisturizer until my mid 30s. Too late! It's not a miracle.
From the moment I wake up in the morning, I have to be thinking about how to roll back the clock. I've got a fork off like $400.00 to even give myself a fighting chance.
And even if I wanted to, I'm not gonna be that dedicated to it. I'm gonna go right back to my gremlin ways.
It's such a waste of time, planning and thinking about all of the these things, and what you were actually paid to do. And that money is just going right back into that cycle.
Bethany: This is a place where where size privilege can come into the economics. When I was a size small, I could buy all of my stuff on clearance. There's always a couple smalls and extra smalls left. But larger sizes are sometimes hard to find at all for any price. And if you're more mid-size, that stuff tends to disappear before the prices drop.
Mode/Switch: How did you experience Barbie? How did it depict being a body in public?
Rachel: I cried a lot. I didn't expect to laugh and cry. It wasn't any of the the times that people point to on social media, the beautiful speech that America Ferrera, etc.
It was small things that no one ever talks about—about what it means to exist as a woman in any place. Nothing that I will ever do will be good enough for the world that I'm in.
Barbie lures you in with fun, fun colors and funny people and Ryan Gosling. And then you're smacked in the face with the reality that you'll never win. And no one can win, because of Ken's patriarchy. No popcorn can fix this.
Andrea: I was keenly aware of almost everybody still being thin. And the one plus-sized girl being a token who was dressed more conservatively than the other Barbies. The movie shed light on so many things about being a woman. And yet, plus-sized women were still invisible, essentially.
Being fat feels like the last frontier.
Aubrey: I was super excited for Barbie. I went and saw it opening weekend dressed up—and as I'm watching the movie there is so much beautiful representation. There are different bodies, different ethnicities, different abilities. And they're all part of this dream Barbie world.
But what was I doing before I went to Barbie that I was so excited to see? I put on my, you know, pink silk skirt and my white T shirt.
Ohh well, I don't look like the Margot Robbie Barbie, so I don't know if I count. I'm not the Margot Barbie, so can I be Barbie? It's this warped idea of being so excited for representation, and yet at the back of my mind, I'm still wondering “Is it enough?”
As the world changes to better accommodate us as we are, has its historical voice been too loud that it's even gonna matter? That voice has been in our heads since we were four years old.
Bethany: The colonizer is in me.
Rosalia: I mean, it may not be for us. Aubrey, to what you're saying: it's gonna take a long time. And realistically, for us, it's probably never gonna go away.
Mode/Switch: What are the small moves you have learned to make to be your body at work?
Andrea: Yeah, I don't know. I have tried desperately to love myself, the way that I am. I have not been able to do that yet. It almost feels cruel to put that on me. Like, “Society doesn't love you, but you should love yourself.” No, I need society to accept this. But other people have done it. Gay people have done it. Black people have done it. They love themselves, despite the way that society feels about them. But I have not gotten there.
This burden on women is also a detriment to society. The amount of time and energy and brain space that brilliant women have spent worrying about their bodies—it’s just a damn shame. We missing out on brilliant ideas, discoveries, and leaders.
Rosalia: I've always just assumed people are gonna make assumptions about me, that I'm lazy, that I'm not as well kept as other people. That used to deter me or make me sad or anxious. What I've done is start to view it as like a little monster on my shoulder that I just need to soothe sometimes. “It's going to be OK.”
There'll be a lot of assumptions made about me because I'm a woman, because I'm a larger person, because I'm my age, because I come from a theater background and I'm in a corporate world, right?
Time and time again, living my life with integrity—working hard on being a kind person—wins out in the end. I'm playing the long game, you know?
It’s not rocks on top of me. It's water I move through.
Bethany: Great metaphor.
Aubrey: Putting on makeup before a committee meeting is putting on war paint. Yeah, my eyebrows are on point today! And my blush is blushing! I'm ready. The sound of heels walking into that meeting room is the warning alarm, right? I'm coming in and I'm gonna blow your mind with this data.
But there are other times where a client may put a 30-minute meeting on my calendar for Friday afternoon. And maybe I am a little gremlin. I put on my large glasses that cover the majority of my face, and I slick back my hair and I say, “What's the problem?”
Rachel: Yes to all of that.
I have to make these these trade offs. If I'm in an environment that is just not good for my mental health, then I seek validation from something else.
The job sucks, but at least I have this project that I've been working on on my own, and it's going really well. Or I showed up for a friend, and we had a great time.
Little treats, little things, I can look forward to—not tied to my worth at work. If someone’s going to think less of me, I don't care anymore. There's this beauty of being in my 30s. I've heard it all, and I've already suffered enough, and I can't spend the time and energy to care what you think. If you're getting what you want, this is transactional. It's my brain you wanted. You got it.
Rosalia: When Rachel was talking about not caring what people think, it made me think, “At least we're tolerating bullies less. It's like a big thing, even through the Barbie conversation. We do the best we can, speaking up for ourselves and not taking shit anymore.
Contributors to this interview: Rachel Hennessy (a millennial marketer in a tech company), Bethany Keeley-Jonker (a millennial scholar who studies health communication), Andrea Munday (a millennial business owner and marketer), Rosalia Portillo (a millennial in corporate), Aubrey Weedman (a Gen Z in finance). So thankful they spoke up! We’d love to hear your answer to any of these questions. Send us a note themodeswitch@gmail.com.
Finally, a word of thanks to Sarah Hao, who concludes graphic design work for the Mode/Switch this week. She’s been a skilled contributor, working late on Friday nights to finish out the issue. All the best to you, Sarah, as you continue your career in marketing!
The Mode/Switch is now seeking a new graphic designer. You interested?