Menu Menu

Opinion – Ratajkowski’s book is unapologetic and non-committal

The model entered her career believing that people generally focused more on what women look like than what women had to say. Through her book My Body, she’s finally giving people an opportunity to listen.

Upon hearing about this book release, my initial reaction could be easily compared to some of its most upvoted reviews online.

What could a famous, wealthy, and undeniably beautiful woman really teach me about womanhood, capitalism, sexuality, and living under the male gaze? Surely, halfway through my twenties, I’d gathered enough data through my own experiences and anecdotes exchanged between my closest girlfriends and family.

Tapping through My Body’s page on the Goodreads app, I saw people criticise the model, actress, and novel writer for ‘bashing an industry that made her famous yet is still a part of’ and for being just ‘another useless celebrity who is out of touch with the real world that they think their insight is actually important enough to share with others’.

That’s pretty harsh, I thought, as I added the hardcover edition to my digital basket and paid £16.99 with my face, using Apple Pay. I was intrigued. I’ve seen how women can be unfairly critical of one another and wanted to judge for myself, but (admittedly) was not expecting to be blown away.

The book explores themes central to most women and girl’s lives – our relationship with our parents, a desire for independence, experiences of sexual assault and the trauma that occurs afterwards, feminine power within a capitalist and patriarchal society, and perceptions of beauty: how we propose to get it and what or who defines it.

The latter themes, to me, were especially interesting. The book is called My Body after all, and Ratajkowski spends a lot of time trying to understand who she is in relation to hers – the thing that she’d been attached to all her life but had always seemed like something which belonged to everyone else. Something people ogled at and commented on.

It’s a complicated relationship, one that most young girls know well, and one some women still struggle to grapple with long into adulthood.  With mixed messages being strewn from family, friends, the opposite sex, and the media – cover up, strip down, be sexy, not too much, too young for this dress, too old for that top – what does it all even mean?

A quest to be exactly what others deem appropriate can be never-ending if we let it. Our patriarchal society worships women’s sexuality (ie. sex sells) but chastises and ousts them for being what is regarded as ‘too promiscuous’, reminding us that we constantly tip-toe along this impossibly thin line.

Ratajkowski’s rise to fame was defined by this balancing act.

Starting out as a swimsuit model and later gaining notoriety by dancing completely nude in the music video for Blurred Lines, the now acclaimed author never had an interest in fame. Ratajkowski’s body was deemed by herself – and verified by others – to be an avenue for earning decent money while fulfilling her fierce need to never rely on anyone. This, she says, was always the goal.

Capitalising on her body and sexuality in return for financial security and independence had felt gratifying at the time. But armed with a matured understanding of her own personal values, she’s willing to admit things feel different in retrospect.

Getting nude on camera, which once felt like an act of rebellion banded with total agency, had backfired when her images were sold multiple times without her consent. It’s true, the system had required her to rely on many people to get where she is – primarily successful men in the industry who had exploited her body and photographs numerous times throughout her life.

Today, people judge Ratajkowski everywhere, making snide comments ranging from deeming her as ‘nothing special’ or the continued version of the sentiment ‘…without her looks.’ If I’m honest, I’m guilty of having a similar thought years ago when I stumbled on her Instagram page.

It begs the question – when women manipulate patriarchal values by using their beauty and femininity to gain success, why does it then become an issue people find worth pointing out? Why have we not yet eradicated the deep-seated misogynistic values of men in powerful positions – who, by the way, enable this to happen?

As the collection of essays reveals early on, a lifetime of achieving self-gratification through the male gaze doesn’t pacify the human struggle to foster self-love. ‘What did he see?’ Ratajkowski wonders, when her mother says a male model had fixed his eyes to her as she walked into a casting job.

Comparison is the thief of joy, they say – and a lifetime of competing with other women for jobs and modelling gigs still leaves Ratajkowski with sudden bouts of anxiety and depression, which she has referred to since a young age as ‘the Woozies.’

Now her own boss, Ratajkowski regularly promotes her own swimsuit brand by posting herself in the product on social media. The whole point of starting her own company was to take back control over her body and image, but she still finds herself tied to the sexist system. Without her posting photos of herself in the products online, they don’t sell as much.

She admits how watching half a million likes appear on her photo within 20 minutes gives her a rush of adrenaline – a feeling of power. Then admits this makes her feel ridiculous, once again questioning what real power is, who holds it, and how women come to define what makes them feel powerful.

In the digital age, young people growing up with social media know this all too well. It’s comforting to know that even the world’s most adored are with us in social comparison, insecurity, and falling into validation seeking tactics.

I’ve certainly not covered all the worthwhile subjects Ratajkowski explored in her book here, some of which other readers may relate to more than I did. But I could still appreciate everything she came forward with and the vulnerability it took to do so.

After finishing My Body over the course of a single evening, I couldn’t help but think that reviews calling her memoir ‘contradictory’ were from people who completely missed the point or had at the very least skimmed through the introductory pages.

Ratajkowski outlines from the jump how she hadn’t set out on a mission to end arrive at final conclusions with her book, but rather to explore ideas and come to terms with difficult and transforming experiences that have shaped her life.

Most of all, My Body succeeds in solidifying Emily Ratajkowski with a voice, a story, and depth she’s always had but never revealed.  It’s a highly accessible read which omits overcomplicated jargon, yet still manages to address real questions about our current society through the lens of someone who has, in her words, ‘hacked that very system’ to work in her favour – for better or worse.

If you’re looking for a methodological plan to for overthrow the patriarchy, Emily Ratajkowski does not have that for you. But she does offer interesting and relatable stories, food for thought, and perhaps – most importantly – a new way for audiences to appreciate her.

Accessibility