The petite, attractive redhead scanned the crowd with her piercing blue eyes, her lips pressed firmly together, a look of unshakeable confidence and determination on her face. Clearing her throat, she began to speak.

“I feel that I speak for all of you when I express my contempt and disgust for the media and its unrealistic images of women,” the redhead began. At this, the other women murmured assent. “Horrible,” she continued. “The media continues to force unrealistic expectations upon us. Thin, pretty, and vapid, that’s what they want us to be.” At this, the murmurs grew louder. “And in more recent times, two of our so-called allies, women who dared to call themselves feminists, have become part of the problem. I speak, of course, of Ophelia Foley-Cloud, owner and founder of Elemental Fashions, and Emily Desjardin-Rivers, writer and editor for Reality Magazine.”



The intellectual-looking brunette squinted through her glasses as she typed:

There are many possible mediating variables that might affect the perceived relationship between disordered eating and academic success, as well as motivation to succeed. In addition, many of these same variables may account for the long-held perception of bulimia nervosa and anorexia nervosa being a primarily white middle-to-upper class female disease. First, the overwhelming majority of the studies of disordered eating have primarily white female participants. Second…


She paused in her typing as the shy-looking young lady stepped into the room. She looked up at the girl, then, after a moment, said, “Yes? What is it?”

“T-the results of the latest tests,” the girl stammered, handing over a stack of printouts. “Dr. Rivers, I think there may have been an error. The results--”

The older women scanned the printouts, her eyes widening as she read. Could it be? she thought excitedly. “I don’t think it’s an error, Melissa,” she said quickly.

“You don’t mean…?”

“Yes, I do. Go let Dr. Burgess know about the results.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Melissa exclaimed, dashing out.

The woman smiled to herself, watching the younger woman, her whole life still ahead of her. That was me, once, she thought.


The redhead continued her tirade. “Elemental Fashions and Reality Magazine are closely linked,” she continued. “The founders have been best friends since high school.” She pressed a button, and slides were projected onto the screen behind her. “The magazine claims to be about empowering women and providing realistic images for them. But, look at this… and this… and this!” She shook her head. “All at least moderately attractive, and none above a size 18. Horrible.” She clicked a button, and an image of a slim redhead appearance. “And, of course, frequently featured is Elemental’s top model, Charlotte Cloud. Now, I’m all for more transwomen being shown in a positive light, but really… the mere fact that she models for Elemental makes me question her intentions. As you know, her long-time partner, Ophelia Foley-Cloud, founded Elementally originally as an offshoot of Elemental Records, owned by her uncle, Preston Marlow. Elemental claims to design clothes to flatter and fit all body types and even offers free in-store tailoring for the best possible fit. These clothes are featured at their biannual fashion show, in which everyday women, rather than professional models, are the ones primarily on the catwalk.” She took a deep breath, then continued. “That may sound good and all, but once again, these women are all at least moderately attractive and rarely above a size 18. Some local women who’ve been in the show are Sara Lowry, Emily Desjardin-Rivers, Jade Gibson, Charise Verona, Tiffani Royale, and Jessica DeSidiro.” At this last name, the woman wrinkled her nose and shuddered slightly.