B Eyoncé's Coachella headline set for 2018 was a masterpiece of careful preparation. She conceived a show designed to pay tribute to the culture of historically black colleges and universities. After giving birth to twins, she spent months working on the exact choreography and arrangements. And she was fastidiously vegan, with no sugar, carbs, dairy and alcohol. "I'm hungry," she says in the Homecoming documentary behind the scenes. We understand that this is a warning story ̵
With the exception of Beyoncé, along with a "physiotherapist Marco Borges, founding CEO of a herbal lifestyle solutions company, is now selling the diet she has followed to prepare for her Coachella set. She has posted a video on her YouTube channel promoting the diet of Beyonce's Kitchen. It starts with footage from the first day of her homecoming preparations, the sight of her feet on the scales, weight 79.3 kg (12st7lb). In her voice, she admits, "Every woman's nightmare … it's still a long way, let us understand."
We see her dancing, doing battle ropes, doing sit-ups, stretching hard and squatting in resistance bands. Borges tells her dancers about the power of vegetables. "If you're plant-based, you'll definitely have more energy." He gets a FaceTime call from Beyoncé: "Guess who fits in the One Woman costume!" Hourglass figure. It's a very big deal, it's coming back, I'm coming back. "
For $ 14 a month or $ 99 ($ 79) a year, all this may be yours. Unless it can not, because Beyoncé sells a lie. Achieving physical perfection is part of her job, and she has an expensive team of coaches, cooks and nannies to do that, which is not included in the subscription fee. So much we know. We also know that a crash diet rarely results in a long-term reduction in weight and it is nonsense when society insists that young mothers lose weight after the baby. However, if you are looking for information that might help you lose weight, reason is easily overridden.
At age nine, you can read Jacqueline Wilson's Girls in Love about a teenager who is worried about being overweight, and feel frustrated that Wilson does not. Do not give yourself the numbers to measure yourself , At the age of 12 you can feel reassured when Helen Fielding gives you that benchmark in Bridget Jones's Diary. Later, you understand why Wilson edited the numbers and find that what Jones saw as fat was nothing like that. Even if you know the consequences of restrictive eating from your life experience, you can capture your interest by meeting someone who claims that having a juice cleaner really works for them. They know that muscles need time to regenerate after exercise, yet still train twice a day on consecutive days to drop an extra ounce.
Beyoncé exploits this vulnerability. It's not the first time – in 2006 she discussed the extremely liquid diet she was preparing for a role in Dreamgirls, and it was a dangerously simple invention anyone could do at home. Her new diet is less accessible, but she benefits from the tools of the crash diet and suggests that a woman is completely out of touch: exploiting impressive fans by accusing them of an unsurpassed ideal that contradicts our contemporary insistence on body positivity stands – an ethos that represents them has also stoked – and the evils of diet culture.
Maybe that's Beyoncé's most humane side, too. To hear her describe her weight as the "nightmare of every woman" is shocking. We should not talk about body that way anymore. The pursuit of slimming is equated with fatphobia, decrepit feminism and schilling for patriarchy. Even Weight Watchers has been renamed and the language of diets removed from the plans. It is the bad place. But this does not make you feel that you do justice to the ideals of society, and you still want thinness, even though you know that it is ethically and medically suspect to be able to achieve it. It is no consolation to learn that Beyoncé feels the same way. "She's coming back, I'm coming back," she says in the video, reiterating the socially sanctioned lie that our lives can finally begin once we fit in the shorts that are stowed in the back of the closet.
No matter how daunting Beyoncé verbalizes her feelings is a start. Slowly, famous women challenge these standards. "I've learned not to hate every ounce of fat on my body," Taylor Swift wrote for Elle. "I worked hard to train my brain so that a bit more weight means curves, shiny hair and more energy." In a Vogue essay, Florence Welch examined her eating disorder and her tendency to self-destruct. "I still try to understand what makes young women go to war against themselves," she wrote.
It is a struggle on both fronts: an internal civil war and an external resistance to the constant attack of news that values littleness. Keeps women hungry to limit their potential, and makes us complicit in spreading this message – spies in the house of self-love. On Beyoncé's self-titled album of 2013, she sang the prize of perfection, a standard she was instilled as a child by her domineering father. It is unpleasant that our idolatry has settled as well.
Voices like Welch's and Swift's can help us examine and unravel this dynamic, though it's never going to be a fair fight – self-hatred is the eternal heavyweight to bantam optimism. Beyoncé is the rare person who can overcome the sound of a growling stomach and conflicting minds to reach their full potential. For the rest of us, it takes a certain amount of energy and determination that a restrictive diet can not provide, whatever Marco Borges says.