I must admit, I’ve never been one to keep up with models. I adore Heidi Klum for her often ridiculous critiques on Project Runway, but otherwise no one model has won me over as a big fan. However, I have recently become enamored with Crystal Renn. Not only do I find her beautiful, her lack of sexy-face brings something new and interesting to the table. Of course, she is known for more than just her expressive photographs; Renn is a size 12 and the leading “plus-size” model working in the industry right now.

At 23, Cystal Renn has been working as a model for seven years, a career she documents in her memoir Hungry (penned with Marjorie Ingall, a former Sassy contributor). Reviews of the book, or articles about Crystal Renn, all seem to provide the same synopsis of her life. She was discovered at a charm school in Mississippi by a modeling scout who told her she could be a supermodel if she lost nearly ten inches off her hips. To achieve this goal, she began dieting heavily and developed an eating disorder, bringing her weight down to less than 100 pounds. She realized the scope of her illness and was able to recover and has now become a very successful plus-size model that works in mainstream fashion magazines like Vogue. And of course, that is all true, but in this book she engages critically with her past, the industry, and her continuing career as a model in a way that is sold short by a sound bite summary. Her recollections of filling her mouth with peanut butter only to wash it out, crying, are enough to make me hungry. While she writes a personal memoir, Renn’s accounts of sitting starving and miserable in her crappy New York model’s apartment bring into focus a larger reality that exists behind the glossy pages.

The chapters that follow the Renn’s life are staggered, with chapters dissecting body image and the inner workings of the fashion industry. Size and beauty are concepts that are intrinsically linked in our society, and Hungry provides more analysis than I expected. One point that Renn focuses on is how the issue of extreme thinness in the fashion world is consistantly made out to be someone else’s problem. Magazines claim to show women who are thin because designers send them sample sizes, but of course designers say they are making clothing for thin women because the magazines define this size as what is in style. And when blaming each other doesn’t work, it seems that the industry blames the models themselves. The book also discusses how the “waif look” (read: skeletal) seems to be tied to xenophobia. While of course there are waifs of many colours, Renn notes how the seasons that are populated by extremely thin woman on the runway (a recent trend) are overwhelmingly white. She believes this is tied to people’s belief that thinness connotes higher class; marginalized populations (which include millions of people of colour) have higher obesity rates, so therefore whiteness and thinness can be read as signifiers of luxury. And what is luxury if it doesn’t exclude 99.9% of us? Or employ a migrant work force of teenage girls?

Renn comes off as a likable, introspective person. I can definitely see how this book will appeal to WORN readers; she poses some serious questions about how we view our bodies through the lens of fashion, but she still takes time to gush about working with Jean Paul Gautier and Steven Meisel. Her life story is no doubt similar to other young models, but because she has become so successful she has the opportunity to speak out. And luckily for us, she is ready and willing to intelligently examine the fashion industry, while still enjoying the widespread acceptance she has received by it.

Hungry: A Young Model’s Story of Appetite, Ambition and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves by Crystal Renn and Marjorie Ingall (Simon & Schuster 2009).
Reviewed by Hillary Predko.

There has been a lot of discussion among WORN staff lately about the issues surrounding diversity of models in the fashion world. It is a loaded topic, encompassing such controversial areas as manufactured diversity, political correctness and the effect of one predominant choice of model on women’s concepts of beauty. Mainstream fashion’s obsession with the skinny white girl has superseded trendiness, and although history is full of a variety of idealized body types, I think many people are beginning to find fashion’s preoccupation with size-zero and blank stares a little stale. Exclusivity is a selling point in fashion, but when intelligent women begin to question themselves for being healthy…well, it gives you some food (no pun intended) for thought. (Please note – I am not claiming all mainstream fashion supports size-zero culture, or that all women even take note of it, I am merely noting its current dominance.) This is why I was so excited to have the opportunity to observe FAT (Toronto Alternative Arts and Fashion Week)’s open-call model casting process, which stipulated that it would be looking for a diverse group of unconventional models.

FAT’s model search is in preparation for its four day festival in April, which will showcase “fashion design, photography, installation, video, performance, music and dance, in an effort to push forward and redefine our perception of the fashion phenomenon”. In this spirit, FAT encouraged models of all size, ethnicity and age to try out. I was intrigued to see how “unconventional” would be defined in the context of a festival promoted as “alternative”. The name “FAT” suggests a dramatic departure from mainstream ideals, but also seems like it could be an oversimplification. Intrigued, I asked festival Director, Vanja Vasic about it. She describes FAT as meaning, “full of life, energy and meat” (as well as being the backward acronym for “Toronto Arts and Fashion”). Fair enough, but the name is only the tip of the unconventional iceberg…

The FAT model judging panel, including Ben Barry (famous for his work advocating for “real women” in campaigns such as Dove’s Real Beauty) claim they are looking for models who possess an engaging personality and well represent Toronto’s diversity. Despite this, most of the models I saw were mainly in their 20s and on the medium to slim side. This however, probably says more about the perceived requirements for modeling in our skinny white girl obsessed world, wherein modeling outside of those boundaries seems fairly limited.

The casting did seem to bring together a unique group of individuals from a style perspective; including one woman, decked out in head-to-toe pink, who strode around the room in platform PVC boots and sparkly blush. Chatting with her, I learned she is a nurse and does modeling on the side. She came to the FAT open call because the nature of the event spoke to her love of the avant-garde, referencing McQueen, Dior, and Westwood as inspirations. Another model I spoke to was an 18 year-old design student (with fabulous white eyelet ankle boots), who hoped to gain insight into the industry. There was certainly a range of hair colours – neon blue isn’t a mainstream runway staple – and exposed tattoos and a black cat-suit/corset combination drew compliments from the judges instead of the requisite raised brows.

Vanja proposes the selection process for models is simply “choosing people who are great, who can bring something to the event” and that choosing people on an individual and not stereotypical basis brings a natural range in the models. Making shows more inclusive and engaging for the audience excites me, but going to the casting, I was aware of the inherent potential for things becoming too politically correct – like when you see a department store ad with three girls of different ethnicities hanging with a “nerd” and a “jock”. This kind of attempt to appeal to “everybody!” can feel contrived and insulting. Are consumers really simple enough to think, “Oh look, someone of my race/size/age likes pink cardigans, I guess I should too”? I am sure on some level, this process does happen, and it’s true that on the other hand mainstream shows often leave me feeling inferior, but is it possible to cultivate authentic diversity in an industry that thrives on distinctions?

FAT believes it is up to the challenge, and frankly, I think they could be onto something great. FAT seems genuinely out to find the most enthusiastic participants to bring the clothing to life, and not to fill preordained age, race or size quotas. It is inclusive-yet-informed efforts like this that will hopefully push the mainstream towards a more accepting stance. I can’t help noting how ironic it is that alternative fashion week is out to relate to the majority of people… and I look forward to seeing what FAT has to offer!

FAT runs April 21-24, 2009 in the Distillery District in Toronto.

- Esme Hogeveen