The ‘normcorization’ of us
When I first learned about this supposed new trend, the “normcore body,” I had to roll my eyes, as I imagine many others have. A few days ago, Style.com announced that Kendall Jenner will be walking the runway in the advent of the “normcore body.” The author of the article said, “A world of unvaried ultra-tonedness is boring…. It does feel like the moment has come, purely from the standpoint of aesthetics, for sensuality and softness, for bodies that don’t look over-exercised, but fully lived.” Great. We’ve hardly grasped the concept of normcore fashion, and here we are again, faced with a new ludicrous category of shape to fall or not fall under.
Vogue UK paints a pretty accurate picture of normcore fashion by citing the words of William Gibson in his novel Pattern Recognition, in which he describes his protagonist as wearing: “A small boy’s black Fruit of the Loom T-shirt, a thin gray V-neck pullover purchased by the half dozen from a supplier to the New England prep schools, and a new oversize pair of black 501’s, every trademark carefully removed.” And suddenly it was the bland leading the bland.
Transposed onto the context of body types, think Scarlett Johansson in Under the Skin, where she drops more clothing than she did ripostes with Hawkeye. In the film, the actress ditches her toned Avengers body for — aptly, because here she is an extraterrestrial attempting to blend in with regular folk — a more approachable one. It’s a movie you have to see with an open mind, first for its plot and anti-Hollywood subtleness, and second for the nudity, though not for reasons one might think. “I crane my neck looking for evidence of Hollywood perfection amid the soft and familiar shapes, only to find it’s not there,” wrote Elle.com Culture columnist Justine Harman in a review. When I think of “normcore body,” I see Scarlett in a black wig and borrowed black lingerie, the back of her arms in dire need of tricep-dips, her stomach without a hint of muscle, moonwalking ever so slowly into the abyss — not Kendall Jenner.
Here lies what’s problematic about this so-called “trend forecast”: Kendall Jenner does not have a normcore body. I went on her Instagram and checked. The girl is blessed with long limbs, an 18-year-old’s butt, and Kardashian genes. Whether she goes to the gym or not is irrelevant. Her body is not average. (Hello, she modeled for White Sands swimwear when she was 15!) To anoint her as the poster girl of normcore shapeliness is visibly inaccurate and seems to be an injustice to hard-earned slacker bodies everywhere.
But it all depends on how one defines normcore, doesn’t it? If we follow the creeping path of avant-bland fashion, we’d find that our understanding of it has evolved from “dressing like a tourist” to “wearing carefully curated tourist-inspired pieces.” It’s all about not trying too hard, but it also isn’t about not trying at all. From this angle, Kendall’s body is normcore, but only because she probably has the metabolism of the teenager that she is. But what does this mean for the rest of us?
Whenever I am confused by a new superficial invention that seems to have the potential for profound destruction (like bikini bridges and thigh gaps), I turn to Tina Fey for some clarity. In Bossypants, she says:
“I think the first real change in women’s body image came when JLo turned it butt-style. That was the first time that having a large-scale situation in the back was part of mainstream American beauty. Girls wanted butts now. Men were free to admit that they had always enjoyed them. And then, what felt like moments later, boom — Beyoncé brought the leg meat. A back porch and thick muscular legs were now widely admired. And from that day forward, women embraced their diversity and realized that all shapes and sizes are beautiful. Ah ha ha. No. I’m totally messing with you. All Beyoncé and JLo have done is add to the laundry list of attributes women must have to qualify as beautiful. Now every girl is expected to have Caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits. The person closest to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes.”
Right there, in a single Lemon-y breath, she sums it up. This half-hearted attempt to ease yet another burden off women, delivered in the guise of a trend report that encourages women to break free from “a world of unvaried ultra-tonedness,” means nothing. It pegs the body of an 18-year-old as the new “norm” to work toward and then contradicts itself by implying that working out is so last season. It activates a false sense of empowerment in the wrong audience — people who might actually benefit from some form of exercise — but is, in reality, directed at those who are already overdoing it to the point of obsession. Like maybe the models that will be walking alongside Kendall’s perfect body, juicing and spinning their butts off to look like her even though they never will (because she might also be a Russian robot).
Perhaps normcore is a celebrity’s way out, a welcome breather that is apparently crossing over to the next season. For the rest of us norms, it’s an approval from the fashion world, a go signal to keep on keeping on, with a few minor edits. The philosophy of normcore is “coolness that opts into sameness,” but we’re not about to hold hands and sing We Are the World just yet. The disconnect is obvious, but muddled by labels that need to just stop. The runway is the runway and life is life.
