I wore a
misogynistic medieval torture device Kim Kardashian style waist trainer for a week.
Well, not a week exactly. I didn’t actually last that long. It was about three and a half days in the end…
Plus I took it off at night.
You know how famous actors, artists and journalists will suffer for their craft? Mila Kunis, for example, has talked this week about dropping to a scarily low weight ahead of her much acclaimed role in Black Swan, so she would ‘look the part’ of a determined and somewhat deranged psycho ballerina. Closer to home, a confronting and divisive video art exhibition opened in Melbourne this week where the artist organised to have sex with a stranger in an attempt to ‘recreate’ the experience of rape.
These are serious issues, for serious people. The ethics of which are certainly contestable.
Now, I like to consider myself a serious person. So I’d like to be able to tell you that I wore the aforementioned waist trainer as a grand social, physical and psychological experiment. An experiment in which I put my body on the line for the pursuit of deeper knowledge and expanded understanding.
But the truth is that I’m no ground-breaking investigative journalist. I’m just an average-sized woman who despondently compares herself to Victoria’s Secret models and is on a lifelong quest to achieve slimness without having to do much exercise or give up my co-dependant relationship with cheese.