By now, we ALL know that Les Miserables (the movie adaptation) is pretty kickass, minus some Russell Crowe what-the-eff-ness. And by now we ALL know that Anne Hathaway, poor dedicated perfectionist Anne Hathaway, starved herself by eating 500 calories a day to become dying-Fantine-skinny. To be specific, she ate two dried oatmeal paste squares a day.
Good for you, Anne Hathaway. Good for fucking you.
Before we get into the barrage of, “Oh, that’s Hollywood!” or “Well, she was a starving character!”, let me lay this on you.
1. Keep your twisted diet secrets to yourself. The fact that you told people this tells me you have some sort of martyr thing going. (“Oh, look at me! I almost died for this role!”)
2. A world where women get rewarded by Oscar statuettes for getting to a weight where they can’t reproduce is fucked up. Period.
And this is coming from a woman who loves Les Mis. I have, in fact, been known to belt “On My Own” in the shower and at previous auditions. So I know alllllllllll…..lllllllll about the musical and who Fantine is blah blah blah. And I’m sure Anne is fantastic.
Now, backing up, to be fair…what is my part in this? Did I seek this out? Not really. I hopped on Facebook and there was the headline, “Les Mis Director Begged Anne Hathaway to Stop Losing Weight”. I am in recovery from an eating disorder, so yeah, I’m fucking triggered by this shit probably more than the usual person. But I’m willing to bet all this body image stuff sits in the backs of you normies’ minds, too.
And lastly, I’m just sick of even bringing this shit to light. I feel like it draws more attention to it and glamorizes it further. Apologies for the crude language…I’m just sick of being inundated with messages of starvation that induce guilt as I sit here eating hummus and pita chips.
Hollywood, go fuck yourself.
(Image provided by stylebistro.com)