Becoming a wife was never something I aspired to. Marriage, yes, but not a slumpy, frumpy ‘wife’. Even the word promises little, being wider than it is tall and regularly lumped on the end of equally stout prefixes – house-wife, fish-wife. Compare it to ‘girlfriend’ – suggestive of kissing, fancy lingerie and shiny hair – or even ‘partner’, which strides forth beaming and biker-booted, full of equality and modernity.
But a wife I am. In fact, carelessly, I’ve been one twice: Once very badly; the second time – hopefully – a bit better (a fortune-teller told me there would be three husbands, but she also said I’d be rich, which I might be were I not so stupid as to pay fortune-tellers).
Enamoured, then, by marriage but not my marital status, you’d think I’d be nonplussed by Kate Moss’s recent comment that her husband “would go mental” if she dressed “like a wife”.
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Kate Moss, who has made millions of dollars from being pretty skinny, has said: “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” You can read the news story here.
Cue outrage! How dare she actively encourage young women to starve themselves! She’s a role model! You can read the hundreds of condemning articles here.
Seriously? Do we really expect a woman who once devoted quite a bit of time to Pete Doherty to be a pin up for healthy living? Relying on the likes of Moss to guide our girls is dooming ourselves to perpetual disappointment. And putting too much store by what she says derails the body image debate.
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