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We need to talk about ‘Almond Mums’

How the fascination with our mothers’ diets has permeated social media and changed the way we think about food. 

There are few social trends as pervasive as the ‘almond mum’. She’s slim, she’s usually wearing yoga leggings, she shops at Whole Foods. And according to the thousands of videos featuring self-proclaimed ‘almond mums’ on TikTok, we can’t get enough of her.

The term ‘almond mum’ traces back to a viral moment on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills in which Yolanda Hadid advised her daughter, model Gigi Hadid, to ‘have a couple of almonds’ when she felt weak from hunger.

Yolanda’s comments came after a series of attempts to curb Gigi’s eating in preparation for various modelling jobs, and has since become emblematic of a parental approach that prioritises restrictive eating and an obsession with thinness and/or extreme wellness.

Almond mums have permeated the zeitgeist with the rise of lifestyle brands like Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop and Kourntey Kardaashian’s Poosh, a uniquely West Coast breed of wellness discourse born of the Erewhon era and our relentless quest of the ‘perfect’ diet – be it veganism, gluten-free, or keto.

Since Yolanda Hadid’s infamous reference to a handful of almonds, the concept of documenting our parents’ approach to eating has spread across social media, as young women film their mother’s prepping food, or simply documenting what’s kept in the family fridge.

Scrolling through these countless videos, which tend to feature tubs upon tubs of greek yoghurt, cottage cheese, and various grains, seeds, and vitamins, I’ve found myself reflecting on my own upbringing and the subtle ways diet culture has permeated my life.

For as long as I can remember, I was aware that my mother was often trying to lose weight or ‘diet’. It was so omnipresent that I hardly noticed the comments about food or the questionable recipes from her latest fad diet. But it’s certainly shaped the way I view my own body as an adult.

@tabitha.headington

The look of disbelief… pizza>salad ? 🍕 #fyp #almondmom #almondmum #almondmumuk #almondmums

♬ original sound – Tabitha Headington

I don’t blame my mum. Her actions are a byproduct of the time we live in. Endless pressure to follow certain food rules, look a certain way, or maintain a certain level of health. And this discourse is almost always directed at women.

The age of social media has only exacerbated this unhealthy relationship with our bodies. Only now the narrative has shifted from weight towards wellness. That doesn’t make it any less insidious. If anything, it allows unhealthy attitudes toward eating to permeate our lives without us necessarily thinking they’re unhealthy.

After all, what’s wrong with wanting to live a life of wellness?

Critics argue that ‘almond mums’ inadvertently instil unhealthy relationships with food in their children, fostering body image issues and disordered eating patterns. More broadly the term refers to women who project their own orthorexic eating habits onto their children (usually daughters) under the guise of ‘being healthy.’

But defining an almond mum isn’t necessarily that straight forward. My mum, for example, hardly restricted my own eating in any significant way. But she was big on ‘healthy eating’ during my childhood. We were rarely allowed junk food, chocolate or sweets. And any meat and dairy had to be organic, free range. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

Tyler Bender, a 22-year-old based in LA, brought the term ‘almond mum’ to the mainstream with spoof TikTok videos defining the almond mum as ‘a mom who is a little bit bought into diet culture. A little bit of an obsession with healthy eating, with her body image, with her daughter’s body image. Maybe a little bit of an obsession with fitness. But it tends to veer on the side of overdoing it.’

Bender’s own mother Sara was later interviewed about her views on the term, and said she didn’t consider herself an almond mum at all. ‘I said that I didn’t know I hurt her,’ Sara told Nightline. ‘That was never my intent. You want them to be healthy and happy, and you just provide the pathway that you think is best.’

This is the complex question at the heart of ‘almond mum’ discourse. Parents like mine were always concerned with feeding us good, healthy food. I don’t have kids of my own yet, but I do know that choosing the best path for your children is a minefield of unwanted advice and conflicting information.

Choosing fresh fruit and veg over a McDonald’s Happy Meal hardly makes you an evil mother. But it’s easy to see how a preoccupation with health and wellness can have the opposite effect.

Vogue’s Emma Specter wrote out in defence of ‘almond mums’ last year, pointing to the distinctly gendered and arguably misogynistic nature of the narrative. ‘I can’t help but feeling like mother’s are getting a bit of a raw deal – as they often do.’

‘Kids have every right to push back against the insidious, diet-culture-derived messaging they’re fed online (or elsewhere) – especially when the person doing the feeding is their literal parent,’ Specter continued.

‘But I can’t help wondering: how many mothers (or, indeed, how many people) in our society have actually been able to internalise the idea that food doesn’t represent a threat, and that being fat is just another thing you can be – an identity that doesn’t have to come laced with shame? And if our mothers weren’t given that message, can we really blame them for not passing it down to us?’

I certainly recognise the fine line between encouraging healthy habits and imposing harmful ideals in my own upbringing. It’s a balance that requires self-awareness and a willingness to challenge ingrained beliefs.

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