The idea that you need to be better than merely ‘human shaped’ - this inch-perfect toning, where even an excess tablespoon of fat overhanging the knee is unacceptable, let alone a world where a size 12 is ‘XL’ - is another piece of what strident feminists can technically dismiss as ‘total bullshit’.
My fat years were when I was not human shaped. I was a 16-stone triangle, with inverted triangle legs, and no real neck. And that’s because I was’t doing human things. I didn’t walk or run or dance or swim or climb up stairs; the food I ate wasn’t the stuff that humans are supposed to eat. No one is supposed to eat a pound of boiled potatoes covered in Vitalite, or a fist-sized lump of cheese on the end of a fork, wielded like a lollipop. I had no connection to or understanding of my body. I was just a brain in a jar. I wasn’t a woman.
—Caitlin Moran - How to be a Woman