Thank You, Girls

How a television show gave me body confidence

Last month in Goa, my brutally honest brother looked at me dressed in a pretty floral dress and remarked, “You are fat… but you know how not to look it. You cover it up well.” At the time, I was stoked. Haven’t we always been taught to cover our flaws and flaunt our assets? In my case, though, while I would try to cover my flaws, I would often forget to flaunt my assets. Trying to be sexy was not my style; being classy was a better option, right? I had it all sorted out.

Then last month, I saw the American TV sitcom Girls, and still can’t get the image of Hannah playing ping-pong in her panties out of my head. She is the show’s protagonist, and no, she does not look like Blake Lively of Gossip Girl. Instead, she is best described as ‘pudgy’. Played by Lena Dunham, creator and director of HBO’s Girls, Hannah is a fat woman of medium height; her face is full, her breasts small, stomach round, thighs wobbly and legs rather too thin for her weight. In the world of fashion, she would be described as ‘bell shaped’— with a disproportionate lower half.

Yes, I know I sound judgmental right now, but the reason I dissect Lena Dunham’s figure is this: if I were her, I would be trying to cover all my flaws. Instead, this fabulously talented ‘curvy girl’ is not afraid to appear naked on air. And no matter how. One moment you see her rump elevated for doggy- style sex, the next a flash of her tiny breasts as she trips on cocaine at a nightclub. She seems to strip every chance she gets. Her character Hannah is also proud to say there is nothing she would not try in bed (other than a buttplug). There are other girls on the show as well, such as Marnie the prude, who later lets herself be tied up and rear-mounted, and Jessa, whose hippy charm helps her carry her buxom body with the ease of a naked Cleopatra.

It was Hannah, however, who made me stop and ask myself a seemingly silly yet profound question: was I uncomfortable with my body? Why had I chosen to cover it all up and pretend to be classy? Was I somehow scared of how my body would look if I let it show? Was I afraid of looking sexy? Or was I afraid of looking foolish if I tried?

It is true. Even though I claim to be fine with my body shape, there are days when I stand in front of the mirror in my underwear and wish my love handle would melt. My body is not like Hannah’s, but is pretty flawed in its own way. I am ‘pear shaped’. My face is childlike in its chubbiness. My chest, as my husband so fondly puts it, is like that of “girls at Oktoberfest in their cleavage- bearing dresses”. My stomach is round. Each of my thighs could measure a thin person’s waist. My legs are fine, and here, my only happiness lies in the fact that I do not have fat ankles.

Though I have never lived on broccoli to lose weight, been depressed over it or let body issues obsess me, after watching Girls, I suspect I have been covering up only because I feel unconsciously shy of revealing myself.

It is strange when a fictional character makes you question the way you have been living your life just by being so comfortable in her skin. Looking at Lena Dunham naked onscreen has made me feel oddly liberated. If she could do it, and with such élan, why couldn’t I show just a bit of thigh in a dress? Here was a girl so unapologetic about how she looked that she couldn’t waste a minute deriding herself for it. And even though she has been the subject of several ‘cover up Lena Dunham’ debates in the US, and seems in perpetual search of excuses to strip, she is more admired than admonished. After all, her show is a huge hit, and this is usually attributed to its sharp wit and realistic script more than flashes of nudity.

To me, however, the sitcom is a hit because it makes women believe that it is okay to show some leg even if imperfect. It makes me feel I am neither fat nor curvy, neither plump nor thin. I am myself. Looking at Hannah naked—first with disbelief, then slight revulsion, and eventually in complete admiration—I find myself looking at myself with new eyes. I know that I will never cringe at my body again. That love handle? Well, it’s how it’s meant to be.

And if I show off that Oktoberfest cleavage some day, I would know exactly who to thank. Lena Dunham. But please promise not to cover up, okay?

About The Author

Aastha Atray Banan