Fashioning Fat: Inside Plus-Size Modeling Read online

  While in a casting session or on the job, I was unable to conduct formal interviews with models due to the unpredictability of wait times to see clients. Instead, I engaged in informal conversation with them while we waited and then invited them to participate in an open-ended, semi-structured interview either after the casting or at a later scheduled date and time. We met over coffee at a local coffee shop and talked for, at times, close to two hours. In this manner, I gathered a snowball sample of thirty-five plus-size models (see table 1.3).44

  The plus-size models interviewed for this study worked in a variety of areas. They worked in commercial and catalog print, promoting clothing and products on billboards, buses, magazines, and newspapers. Many worked in showrooms, promoting new fashion designs for clothing buyers at a department store or boutique, and on the runway during designer fashion shows or on-air telecasts for the local news and daytime programs. Twelve of the women worked as fit models. In fit modeling, a designer or clothing manufacturer hires a model to try on garments at various stages of production to determine the fit and appearance of the pieces on a live person. The models self-reported their sizes to me, which ranged from ten to twenty-two with an average size of sixteen. The women ranged in age from eighteen to thirty-four, with an average age of twenty-seven. These plus-size models were older and larger than average straight-size fashion models, who model between the ages of fourteen and twenty-four and normally retire from modeling by the time plus-size women start their own modeling careers. Modeling agencies routinely represented plus-size models as young as sixteen to more mature women in their forties and beyond. These older models generally worked in the areas of fit modeling. Of the thirty-five participants, seventeen identified as white, twelve as black, three as Latina, and three with a mixed-race/ethnic background. Most had some level of college education and worked outside the modeling industry in some capacity.

  TABLE 1.3 Interviewee Characteristics of Plus-Size Models

  As soon as I mentioned that I was a sociologist studying plus-size models, many of the women perked up and began disclosing their proverbial war stories. At first, some models did not believe that I was a sociologist, since appearance-wise, I seemed to fit in with the crowd. In a follow-up exchange, one model confessed, “I really thought you were joking for the first five minutes of our conversation.” More than a few models, upon hearing I was “really” a sociologist, would encourage me to start modeling full-time. A makeup artist at a runway show was convinced I was a professional since, in her words, I was “bea-u-ti-ful” and had a fierce walk. Naturally, all of this positive enforcement (which incidentally only came from fellow models or stylists and never from any of the agents who represented me) encouraged me to continue my research through periods when I was not booking work and agents stopped sending me out on castings.

  While getting participants for interviews took nominal effort, fitting into a plus-size model crowd posed its challenges. Often I entered a casting and realized that the other plus-size models grossly outmatched me in terms of experience and amount of curves. Physically, at a size ten, I was at the “small” end of plus size. I assumed that my curves would grant me access into the community since my size was not too far off from plus size; instead, I often experienced the alienating effects, not of stigma but, something that I did not expect, “thin privilege.”

  At one particular open casting call for a fledgling design firm that catered to a much edgier version of Ashley Stewart’s clientele, I was, in blatantly descriptive terms, the “token skinny white chick.” Coupling my “smaller” stature with the fact that I was racially and ethnically in the minority, my usual role as marginal insider shifted to that of an outsider amidst a roomful of glares from the other models. Even the two designers who were at the casting questioned my presence at the casting. One quizzed me, “What attracted you to this line? Which is your favorite item?” Having peeked at their website before arriving at the casting, I was able to fudge a response, but I knew I was not convincing. I sensed that they were trying to gauge my interest in their fashions since I was not their intended audience, i.e., “trendy, urban plus-size women” who wear a size twelve or larger. My chosen outfit for the day—jeans and a plain blouse—was not a dramatic explosion of style. I did not represent their “eccentric, anti-ordinary” fashion. I was, in fact, too ordinary. Needless to say, I did not get that job.

  Attending castings and open calls, I noticed racial differences in my fellow attendees. If I was at a casting arranged by my agency, most of the other models were white, with a few light-skinned African American and Latina models. At open casting calls, the reverse was true—the majority of models were African American and Latinas with a handful of white models. I could not figure out the basis for this trend until I visited several agencies. When interviewing agents at their offices, I observed their “boards,” i.e., shelves lined with the comp cards of the models the agency represented. These boards pointed toward the presence of multiple markets within the fashion industry, markets defined by size and divided by race.

  It was not simply a model’s body size and shape that determined her ability to find representation with an agency, which in turn led to job opportunities. Her racial and ethnic status was also key to determining the quantity and quality of work available to her. High-profile modeling agencies, with access to high-status clients and generously paying jobs, preferred to work with models on the smaller size spectrum of “plus size.” They also happen to be predominantly white or light-skinned. This excluded the growing number of prospective African American and Latina models. So, these women and those who wore larger than a size sixteen settled for representation with less prestigious, boutique style agencies that had limited access to clients or, if not signed, attended one open casting to the next in search of work. This racial and size division explained the difference in types of models that attended my castings and open calls.

  At these open casting calls where I was the minority, I grew accustomed to the stares and whispers from the other models; however, my token status ultimately served as an advantage. Given that several models did not perceive me as their competition for the job, they were intrigued by my presence and agreed to participate in my study. In the company of these women, I was considered too thin. I had entered some sort of twilight zone where I went from “average” to “plus” to “small” in an afternoon.

  Through the Plus-Size Looking Glass

  Like Alice, I peered into the plus-size looking glass to find a fantastical world governed by strict aesthetic rules. According to its logic, I was no longer considered an average body type but, rather, “plus size.” I followed a path where my body was measured, objectified, and paraded before the public. This book follows the everyday production process within modeling agencies that began with my entrance into the field and concluded with my transformation into a product of constructed images that idealized a larger body.

  In chapter 2, I present the faces of plus-size beauty. I discuss their backgrounds and entrance into modeling, as well as their career prospects and modeling ambitions. Chapter 3 presents a discussion of the nature of size in a fashion industry that is clouded by inconsistency and confusion. What is considered plus size in modeling does not exactly fall into the same categorical schema in general retail practice nor match the cultural image of a plus-size woman. Highlighting the cases of the models Velvet D’Amour, Whitney Thompson, and Crystal Renn, I show that there is more variation among plus-size models in terms of both body type and size when compared to the strict body standard of straight-size models.

  An examination of the social construction of beauty cannot begin and end with the models themselves. Such an investigation would fail to capture the complete aesthetic labor process involved in constructing an image. The models’ agents and clients dictate each step of the production of beauty. In chapter 4, I document an intensive aesthetic labor process, whereby these models continually developed their bodies according to the demands of their fashio
n employers. In modeling, an inch here or there really does matter. These models face intense pressures from their agents to alter their bodies. In order to work in fashion, they utilize their bodies as capital and embark on a variety of body projects at the risk of losing work opportunities and agency representation. Chapter 5 discusses the agents themselves, the fashion gatekeepers who are responsible for a model’s career.

  While models are subject to the corporeal demands from their agents, clothing designers dictate fashion trends and aesthetics. In chapter 6, I explore the products of modeling work—the images conveyed in retail marketing campaigns—and a new crop of designers who, themselves, identify as plus-size. This burgeoning field of plus-size designers that self-identify as plus-size women, offer the unique case of establishing a clothing market of and for their own. As plus-size women, they hold the key to challenging contemporary bodily aesthetics that privilege the thin body.

  Chapter 7 explores the impact these various plus-size fashion professionals—the models, agents, and designers—have on cultural representations of fat bodies. The fashion machine hides the backstage labor process from consumers, who never see the physical labors a model endures to fit an image dictated by fashion professionals. Fashion also ignores health concerns. Instead, consumers receive a commercial image of a “plus-size” beauty—joyful, desirable, and free from bodily imperfections.

  By examining the complete aesthetic labor process—both the front stage and backstage behaviors—and the relationships between these cultural producers, I show that a plus-size model’s performance does not result in the reclamation of her embodiment. Yes, the plus-size model challenges contemporary bodily aesthetics that privilege the thin body, demonstrates that fat can be sexy, and feels empowered while doing it. At the individual level, she succeeds in overcoming years of self-loathing and shame over her body. Furthermore, the entrepreneurial designers who identify as plus size do envision a new aesthetic for fat women. However, the day-to-day interactions between a plus-size model and her agent reveal the model’s lack of control in the construction of the image of beauty. At the institutional level, the fashion industry perpetuates her objectification. A plus-size model conforms to an image created by fashion’s tastemakers. Her body fits within narrowly defined parameters of their choosing. Ultimately, she molds her body to fit an image instead of molding an image of beauty to fit her body. Within this occupational structure, she is voiceless and disembodied.

  In this book, I give her a voice and try to recognize her body on its own terms.

  2

  How to Become a Plus-Size Model

  A week after the call from the assistant, I boarded a downtown subway to the modeling agency. As the subway car zipped past station after station, I clutched my bag in nervous anticipation of the meeting. My bag held the additional snapshots the agency had requested that my roommate took of me in a haphazard photo shoot in our living room a couple of days before. A flurry of thoughts filled the darkness of the underground—Will this meeting end like the last? Was this a foolhardy idea doomed to fail?

  When I emerged on street level from the depths of the subway station, I quickly found the office building and then backtracked to a drug store around the corner. When I went to auditions as a child actor, my mom and I rode into the city on the commuter rail system, hopped on the subway, and then stopped at any fast-food restaurant within the vicinity of the audition location for a cup of standard, orange pekoe tea and small fries. (This was before coffee shops replaced the ubiquitous fast food joint on every Manhattan city block.) It became our ritual that helped me to mentally distance myself from the stresses of the school day and prepare myself for the audition. On this day, I was too nervous for a cup of tea and simply wanted to inconspicuously check my hair and makeup.

  I returned to the building promptly at 11:15 a.m. for my 11:30 a.m. appointment and rode the elevator up to the agency’s suite. When the doors opened, a rush of sights and sounds did not greet me as in the last agency. Instead, the décor was rather sparse. A mere potted plant and a stand-alone air purifier accented the off-white walls of the reception area. The receptionist handed me some paperwork to fill out and directed me to a pair of chairs against the opposite wall. I waited, again.

  I was sitting in the center of daily operations for this mid-sized agency, which employed up to eight modeling agents. Agents swirled about the facility, scampering from one office to another, often pausing at reception to chat with the young woman answering the phones or pick up bundles of mail. From my seat, I heard an agent haggle over the phone with a client about an upcoming television commercial. Another complained to a client about a delayed payment. The constant chatter and underlying buzz from the air purifier lulled me into a state of complacency such that I had not noticed that an hour had passed. Finally, I was called into the director’s office.

  I entered. On a desk in front of me were piles of photos and proof sheets. To my left, shelves displaying the faces of dozens of plus-size models with ruby lips and smoky eyes stared down at me. These were the director’s “girls”; they were his business. I wanted my picture up on that wall.

  Having failed to learn from my previous interaction with a modeling agent, I was caught off guard by a lack of personal introduction. Instead, in rapid-fire succession, Bobby, the director, detailed my fate as a plus-size model while he visually sized me up aloud:

  You’re cute and have a good personality but a bit small for plus. We start at [size] fourteen but you may be right for fit and commercial [modeling]. You have good eyes, teeth, and well proportioned . . . You will have to maintain your shape . . . Besides fit modeling, you could do showroom and commercial print for catalogues, cute little articles in magazines like Marie Claire, and commercials like Verizon . . . You are more of the Banana Republic look . . . classier, sophisticated.

  At some point during his verbal tirade, I reckoned this was a sales pitch to tantalize my model dreams, throwing me candy bits with recognizable retailers and markets to bait me. As much as I tried to sell myself to this agent, he tried to sell his services to me. I felt relieved that Bobby, a fashion insider, thought I might have a future in modeling. The first agency open call left me discouraged, but now I was hopeful, my confidence bolstered. His positive evaluation of my body and “look” was the validation I needed to pursue this adventure. I could do this.

  Before agreeing to work with me on a freelance basis, Bobby required that I “test,” i.e., have photos taken by a professional fashion photographer to see how I perform in front of a camera and acquire high-quality photos for my portfolio. After the test shoot, we would meet again to discuss my modeling future and “get rolling.” He handed me a photographer’s business card and directed me out the door. My modeling journey had officially begun.

  Typology of Recruitment into Plus-Size Modeling

  The nature of modeling work suggests that models are different from the general population. Compounding the difficulty of working under the conditions of impersonality, objectification, and necessary corporal discipline, plus-size models face additional scrutiny due to the negative cultural view of fat. While Erving Goffman’s view of stigma suggests that fat women would be more inclined to cover up their curves and excess flesh, these women chose to enter a field where they publicly parade their fat bodies for a discerning public. Essentially, it is this very courage to flaunt their bodies that sets plus-size models apart from traditional, straight-size models. These women shed a penetrating layer of shame and guilt built up over the years to reveal a new, confident self that was no longer afraid to enjoy her size and shape. These plus-size models broke with conventional interpretations of their social identity by flaunting their fat bodies in hopes of changing the cultural discourse.1

  The typical routes to enter into plus-size modeling include the former straight-size model, the performer, the outsider, and the self-promoter. In the first type, a straight-size model discovered plus-size modeling after she failed to maintain a thin p
hysique. As plus size, she tends to inhabit the smaller end of the size spectrum. In the second, a non-model working in entertainment booked a modeling job because of their status as a performer and then continued modeling after that initial experience. In the third, a fashion insider recruited a woman without any previous modeling experience. In the fourth, a woman entered the field of her own volition without the aid of a network connection. As my own case demonstrates, this is possible but requires a great deal of determination and luck to acquire contacts. Success, by any route, is rare.

  Formers

  Some of today’s top earning plus-size models began their modeling careers as straight-size models. Crystal Renn’s career trajectory is a prime example of this route. After struggling to maintain weight as a straight-size model by exercising for eight hours a day, Crystal transitioned to plus-size modeling:

  You know, I was so happy for once, and I was really comfortable in who I was. You know, whereas before, I was completely unhappy, and you know, scared and insecure. It was a whole different me . . . I really learned—it took me six years, but I learned to be who I was.2

  Livia’s story is another example of this transition. While working as a size seven fit model in Los Angeles, Livia’s body “gave up” on her due to hunger and dehydration, so she decided to move to New York, where she discovered plus-size modeling. Clarissa, too, switched to plus-size modeling after a couple of, self-described, unsuccessful years as a straight-size model: