This gallery contains 32 photos.
After finishing my book, which is now in the hands of external referees, I realized that many photographs—taken by the incomparable artist and designer Patrick J. Reed—could not be included in it. I think his images offer feminist interventions in the often heteronormative, … Continue reading
Feminist Figure Girl: Look Hot While You Fight the Patriarchy
September 08, 2010
Introduction Becoming Feminist Figure Girl
Even more appealing to me was the chance that my plan would fail, and that I would be unable to compete on stage. My literal failure was certain, for I could never win a figure competition, and would likely not even place in the top ten at an entry level contest. Continue reading
Q: Dear Fitbabe,
Hello, I am a regular gym goer, and have been observing a young girl who has an incrediably thin frame, and is always on the cardio equipment when I arrive, and is still on it after I have trained for an hour, showered and had a steam. I have mentioned her to the front desk staff and they say several others have brought it the attention of the personal trainers in the gym, but it is a difficult subject. Should I approach this girl with concern? Doesn’t the gym have a moral obligation to intervene? I am worried about her and I don’t even know her!
Regards, John Continue reading
That will teach you to laugh at our hats, European bitches!
Brits sure love to row, I think to myself, flashing back to the televised Heritage Minute in which a group of Canadians win the World Championship in 1867. Oh how the badly dressed fishermen sniggered as their heavy boat slid by the fancy pants team from Oxford. Now it’s my turn to show those weedy coxswain-knockers what’s what. After hunching over musty medical books at the Wellcome Library all week, I cannot wait to work my back. I settle onto a machine at the busy Tottenham Court Road gym—ah, the seat is still warm—turn the tension up to 10, pop in my earbuds, and push through my legs and torso before pulling the bar to mid chest while leaning back slightly. Check that form, baby! My feeling of euphoria does not last long, coming to an abrupt halt when a young woman awkwardly straddles the machine beside me. She is skeletal, her painfully knobby knees and shin bones protruding though a layer of thin skin. Continue reading
Let me start by admitting that I am a fan of Jamie Oliver, the English chef and media personality. I don’t find him particularly good looking, never having been drawn to roast beefy morons, a term I learned by watching Blackadder. Continue reading
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