When Instagram banned the hashtag #curvy, making it no longer searchable on the site, it caused a huge uproar. Other words having to do with body image —”skinny“, “fat“, and “thin“— were allowed. #curvy, an active ad hoc community on Instagram, allowed women of all shapes and sizes to affirm their beauty. The backlash was so fierce, that Instagram reversed its policy. Mira Keras blogged about what the “ban on #curvy” was REALLY about, seeing through the flawed logic into the deeper social forces at play. With it, she posted this bold photo of herself (above), an affirming act of defiance. It is an example of one of the great powers of the internet that we embrace: to antidote shaming and inhibiting ideas.
The ban on #curvy is not intended to protect innocent eyes from porn. The ban is an intentional aggressive attack on the Body Positive Movement.
It upsets mainstream media that I’m UNASHAMED of my body. That though I don’t fit a preordained ideal, I still feel cute as fuck. Because if I feel adorable, I might not sheepishly hide, and spend money on hiding. If I am aware that cellulite is a secondary sex characteristic, you know, just like boobies, I might not feel ashamed of the cellulite on my ass. That “FLAW” is a sign I am a grown healthy woman, fuck yeah. #FLAWLESS to the picture of my gorgeous ass, with cellulite on it.
The real reason for banning #curvy is simple: If I am not only aware I’m curvy, but want to celebrate that with other similarly identifying people, then that might build a community. That community might not buy into your “how to change everything about yourself and find happiness” article. That community might not buy your diet pill and might not buy excessively to fill the void you you’re trying to create by making us feel unworthy or ugly.
Do not hide behind your bullshit idea of “modesty” to push us down. I don’t need your sorry-ass fat-shaming big-business bullshit.
I am #curvy #healthy and #flawless
In another post Keras rebloggged “If Aphrodite had stomach rolls then so can I“ by an anonymous man whose wife was so mortified by her body, he showed her a picture he had taken at a Chicago museum of a sculpture of Aphrodite:
I said, “look at this picture. What does she look like?” And my wife very shyly answered “Me…” (Literally her body is IDENTICAL to the sculpture) so I replied “That is the Goddess Aphrodite. THAT is why your body looks like this.”
We think of the parts of our body we dislike, or are ashamed of, or hide and ask: Why?
Why not celebrate them instead?
Top photo of Crouching Venus by Carole Raddato (Flickr), with these notes:
Hadrianic copy of Greek original by Doidalsas mid. 3rd century BC, from the so-called Heliocaminus Baths at Villa Adriana at Tivoli, Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rome. The original was made in the 3rd century BC and depicted Aphrodite (Venus) bathing, with her arms covering herself as if the viewer had just walked in on the goddess. The style was often copied with many variations – sometimes the goddess seems unaware of her observers, in one she has her fingers buried in her hair as though in the middle of washing it. There is often a small Cupid/Eros flying above her (often all that remains is his hand on her back) holding a mirror for her. While far from the most complete, this Aphrodite is considered one of the most beautiful.