I saw the film embrace today. There were four of us in the cinema, staggered through the rows. Four women, aged 20s to 50s I would guess. All different shapes and sizes. All eating a Cinema Nova choc top. 

The film is a well curated quasi professional documentary style of work, the protagonist and documentary maker being a mother of three, who went viral posting a post-body builder shot of herself on Facebook, tastefully naked, as her adorable husband says. 

I was initially skeptical that I might relate to this attractive, symmetrical, aesthetically beautiful woman encouraging us to love ourselves. I soon felt remorseful for thinking that way. 

The film introduced us to women around the globe, struggling with body image. The size 12 model, the transgender woman, the movie stars, the burns ‘victim’ (one of the most vocally audacious women speaking out), the bearded lady, the physically impaired. 

It was at times laced with a lightheartedness, at other times beautifully warm and touching. The most striking take home for me, was a tantalising hope that social media will globalise a new message, a new definition of beauty. 

Aesthetics is a battlefield and I have long detested the message of ‘beauty within’, because really, to change the way we feel, it is our construct of the beauty without that needs to shift.

Everyone knows that a nice person, a gentle soul, is beautiful. But not everyone sees that outward beauty is actually everywhere. It is not owned by the thin, the tall and the smooth. 

If you read to the bottom of this, thanks, you look amazing. 

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They approach trends the achingly polite way they would any transaction, with norms and custom. It seems that this is how it is possible to fetishise America without breaking tradition. Sweet rebellion, without the rebel.  

 It’s a loose embrace. Like a nun spraying FYG because she likes the colour of the paint. It is not a bear hug. That would be Australian.  

 It is as if seeds of US patriotism were planted alongside courage such that the rebuilt Nation mistook candy for cherry blossom.  

 The irony drinks Plum wine from a beer glass and raises a toast to the culture that slapped them down, picked them up, and told them it was time to move on. Preferably on foot, wearing Converse and Levi Strauss.