Model Behaviors

In My (Kate Spade) Shoes


October 2, 2006
By Carrie Bodner

Fashion Week, better known as High Holy Week in the fashion circles, is a series of runway shows and parties that occur every fall around the world. With the newest collections shown by famous designers, celebrities flitting about everywhere and fashion galore, it is the stuff models dream about. But did they ever dream that they might be told they were too skinny to partake in the fun?

Two weeks ago, organizers at Madrid’s Fashion Week announced that they would prohibit models with a BMI, or Body Mass Index, of less than 18 from participating in any of the runway shows. Although only five models fell below the sacred number, the decision has created ripples of both praise and criticism throughout the fashion, psychology and nutritional circles. Consequently, all eyes are poised on upcoming fashion shows to see if other design leagues will follow Madrid’s lead. Similar limitations could restrain the careers of models and designers alike: some of the most famous models would be sidelined, while designers would give up a degree of creative control.

The organizers in charge of Madrid’s Fashion Week ought to be applauded for their proactive step to promoting a healthy beauty image, but their method of implementation is hardly ideal. BMI is a simplistic calculation: your weight (in kilograms) divided by your height (in meters) squared. Your BMI can then be compared to the four broad categories of health that are defined by the National Institute of Health: a BMI over 30 will place you in the “obese” category, a BMI between 25 and 29.9 is considered “overweight,” a BMI between 18.5 and 24.9 is the “normal” weight range and a BMI less than 18.5 is deemed “underweight.”

The ban against models with a BMI of less than 18, then, is a rather black-and-white evaluation: either your height and weight will calculate into a high enough BMI, or it won’t. Never mind genetics, muscle tone, your body frame or your activity level. BMI doesn’t take into account muscle mass, either, so an athlete with a great deal of muscle mass and a small amount of fat might have a BMI that falls in the “overweight” range. That’s right, just because you can bench-press a small boat, your BMI might tell you you’re overweight.

Some sports benefit from routine drug-tests in order to weed out the athletes with detrimental practices, but a BMI is not as telling as a cup of urine, since it cannot concretely identify the presence of an unhealthy habit. Although the BMI is less likely to skew one’s proportions into a diagnosis of “underweight” when they are actually normal, an “underweight” model might not have an eating disorder. Who hasn’t had a skinny friend who gobbles up everything in sight and yet never seems to gain any weight? They’re the ones we always enter in the wings-eating contests and can count on for, if not an outright win, at least an amazing display of gastric elasticity. If the wings-eating contest were a runway show, some of those friends might not be allowed to participate — all because of their BMI.

In addition to discriminating against healthy models who are naturally skinny, the BMI limitations may allow those with eating disorders to continue to parade down the runway, such as those with bulimia nervosa. The vicious binge-purge or binge-exercise pattern of bulimics does not always result in a noticeably low body weight, but prolonged bulimia is rather likely to lead to cardiovascular, esophageal and pancreatic problems.

“It’s discrimination!” Valentina Zalaeyeva, a Russian model, complained, and similar cries were voiced by models across the world. And indeed, when we come down to it, it is a form of discrimination: a job restriction based on appearance alone. If this sort of regulation were placed on lawyers at a law firm, it’d go straight to the Supreme Court faster than you could say Ken Starr. The weight limitations imposed are, in an ironic twist, placing more emphasis on body image and less on healthy living habits. Before the weight regulations, we were more likely to see a range (albeit a very narrow one) of beauty ideals on the catwalk, but the ban is focusing on a single shape. The best prototypes would showcase more of a variety of body types and emphasize healthy living.

So how then, can we encourage fit lifestyle habits without discriminating against those who are naturally thin? Perhaps it should start with the designers, many of whom claim that they choose skinny models for their “aesthetic appeal.” Designers can pay for their models to see a nutritionist, and, if necessary, a psychologist. Or, we could play up on the allure of celebrities, who regularly receive the coveted front-row ticket to the top fashion shows. Designers have featured celebrities as models in their shows before; why not also feature famous athletes alongside models? The fit athletes would be terrific role models for teenagers and young girls when it comes to healthy lifestyles, the designers would get to schmooze with the celebrities they love and I highly doubt any male (or female, for that matter) with a functioning reproductive system would be averse to watching Anna Kournikova or Maria Sharapova sashay down the runway.

Designers could also follow the lead of Lilly Pulitzer’s “Get Tied For a Cause” campaign, in which all the proceeds of a limited-edition scarf were donated to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. Similarly, fashion designers could donate a portion or all of the proceeds of a single item they sell to funding public eating disorder clinics and centers. In this respect, they can maintain their aesthetic on the runway, while proactively helping to “fix” the negative body image and unhealthy eating habits of patients.

Although the catwalk might appear as cutthroat and competitive as a sport (think Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller’s walk-off in Zoolander), we can’t resort to a simple test to encourage positive eating habits among participants or a healthy image of beauty. The organizers of Madrid’s Fashion Week took a remarkable step forward in trying to act upon the problems with the image populated by the fashion industry, but it’s a step slightly in the wrong distraction. Judging and acting on a measurement alone is not model behavior.

Carrie Bodner is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be contacted at cjb56­­@co­rnel­l.edu. In My (Kate Spade) Shoes appears alternate Mondays.