Despite it being 2023, the tremendously toxic term ‘summer body’ is still being used unabashedly. Sigh.
If you haven’t noticed, summer has arrived on this little island we call Britain. The skies have turned from overcast to clear blue, our thermostats have finally been turned off, public transport has become unbearable, fans are sold out everywhere, and we’ve all developed an addiction to ice lollies (again).
My inbox, like clockwork, becomes full of adverts and pitches selling me sugar-free gummies (laxatives), cellulite cream (as in, removal), and ‘miracle’ reformer Pilates classes. They all have the same messaging, which I’ll translate for you all now. They might say ‘summer is just around the corner, these supplements will get you summer body ready’, actually means ‘hurry up you fat sod, take some pills that will make you shit yourself so your stomach can be momentarily flatter on holiday in Ibiza’. ‘Ladies, are you summer-holiday-ready?’ Actually means ‘are you your thinnest possible weight? Are you as hairless as a mole rat? Have you spent £500 on highlights, eyelash lifts, eyebrow threading and a whole new wardrobe?’. Oh, and hi fellas, maybe pack some clean underwear this year, yeah?
What is this mythical ‘summer body’ society yaps on about, then? Well…it’s just that, mythical. And bullshit, definitely bullshit.
Despite what marketing may have you believe, our summer bodies are the same as our winter bodies. And spring bodies. And autumn bodies. Our bodies can change and transform, sure, but they are always the same being. They belong to you, the person, not the season.
We don’t hit 30 degrees and wake up in a Freaky Friday scene. Our bodies do not go ‘ah yeah you’re right, I’m a Summer Body now, I must metabolise faster’.
Every year I feel a deep sense of shame as spring turns into summer. For yet another year, I have not transformed. My body has not halved in size, my skin has not become silky smooth, my pubic area is not bump-less. I shake this feeling off as quickly as I can, because I know it’s that pesky diet culture and patriarchal beauty ideals knocking at my door, not how I actually feel.
I know the shame is not logical, but that does not make me immune to the messaging. After a lifetime of worrying about whether my body is a ‘beach body’, whether it’s a ‘summer body’, whether it’s ‘holiday ready’, it’s no wonder I feel this way.
I know my body does not exist to please society’s narrow ideas about what women should look like; my body is not conscious; it is not a concept. It is not a ‘summer’ body, it is my body.
At this point, I’m not sure what will make certain brands and people stay away from stupidity-soaked terms like ‘summer Body’. Maybe nothing will. But I hope you, and me, remember to pay it no mind. Remember it is not real. It’s simply one of capitalism’s favourite tricks: invent a problem, make you feel bad about it, sell you a solution, and then sell you another one when the former doesn’t work. And repeat.
So, let’s try something radical this summer. Let’s just have a human body.
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