Helen Hunt’s Iconic White Tank Top in “Twister” Taught Me Everything I Know About Work-Life Balance
Dear White Tank Top that Helen Hunt wears in Twister (1996):
I can still remember the day we met. I must’ve been 13 or 14 years-old.
You showed me what I could be. You predicted my future, not as a storm chaser but as a woman who cares more about the weather than she does about men, except replace “weather” with “literally anything else.”
You taught me to pursue my obsessions with abandon, and to let the cows fall where they may. You taught me that having a one-track, tornado-alley mind is not only acceptable, but a genuine good.
You taught me that I don’t need to move my body like a cyclone—I just have to chase my dreams like Jo (AKA Helen Hunt) chases low atmospheric pressure systems.
The only thing this body is tearing up are preconceived patriarchal notions about who gets to be in the lab and who gets to be in the field, thankyouverymuch.
Jo is so passionate about tornados that she wins her estranged husband back, which is, now that I think about it, not what most women want.
However, if you do choose to partner with a man, this is as good as it gets — get the guy without even trying, without having to give up your thriving advertising career or jump out of a taxi to the airport to rejoin your sad love fern and Matthew McConaughey’s washboard abs.
In fact, Jo’s romantic rival, a bewildered, wide-eyed Jami Gertz, barely even registers on the Fujita scale. The true rivalry is between Bill, Jo’s ex, and the weather.
Jo doesn’t compromise on her career, her ambition, her science, or her addiction to adrenaline. She doesn’t compromise on anything, not even on wearing a black tank top instead of a white one because black tank tops don’t show dirt.
♫ BLACK tank tops they never get dirty, the longer you wear them the stronger they get, sometimes — ♫
Maybe you gave me unrealistic expectations about heterosexual relationships, White Tank Top — apparently, all you need to save your marriage is a funnel of mass destruction laying waste to the cornfields and livestock of Oklahoma, not marriage counseling or compromise or God forbid, better communication with your partner.
Honest to God, Jo doesn’t have time for any of that emotional labor bullshit. She’s too busy doing science stuff and I’m 100% sure she doesn’t iron Bill’s dress shirts, EVER.
She has more pressing things on her mind.
Incidentally, my friend describes this as “the only movie that ever made Bill Paxton look sexy” (sorry, Bill). For me, it was probably midway through the third twister, blue button-down shirt soaked through and clinging to his body, rain drops running in rivulets down his chiseled jawline — yeah, Bill Paxton could get it.
But I digress.
You taught me that there’s no more to life than doing exactly what it is you want to do at all times, no matter what.
Girls just wanna have fun, yes, but girls also want extreme winds and exposed shoulders. It’s less about the clavicle you show and more about the freedom to live and be as a body in the world—a body that doesn’t only exist for the male gaze, to be seen or desired, a body that moves and breathes and exists for itself.
You taught me what it looks like to feel comfortable in my own skin.
And truthfully, I just want to be able to wear the exact same thing every single day without anyone looking at me sideways. A uniform. I want a uniform.
I’m not mad about you and your unachievable, unmatched simplicity, White Tank Top. I’m mad that I can’t wear whatever I want and be taken seriously.
Nevertheless, you taught me this truth:
There is no such thing as work-life balance. There is only knowing what you want to do and doing it. There is only life. And lots of running.
I owe you a world of gratitude.
Sincerely,
Maylin
