Muscularity doesn’t mean masculinity: empowerment in female ‘fitspo’
The gym has always been intrinsically linked to gender and identity. But with the age of new media we have seen this transfer online, with the emergence of female fitness influencers. Second-wave feminists argue that fitness influencer’s sexualised self-promotion is undermining the long progression of eliminating female objectification in the media. While post-feminist perspectives counter that while female Instagram influencers do capitalise on the monetisation of their body, the overarching message promoted is one of female empowerment. Where muscularity does not equate to masculinity, and women should not have to choose between conservatism or sex appeal; confidence or humility. However, there is a substantial flaw in this concept of empowerment — it is directly based on the idealised version of the female body — continually promoted through mass media by these impossibly toned or tiny fitness influencers.
Academics agree the gym has always been a gendered space, perceived as predominantly male. As a venue for identity construction, where male and female body culture supposedly co-exist, there is still heavy social stereotyping that takes place. The weights room itself acts a physical gender barrier, as a male-dominated space that most women are too intimidated to approach. This gendered stereotyping of the fitness industry extends online, as females who have broken the barriers of weight training are becoming recognised on social media platforms as fitness influencers.
At first glance, a ‘fitspo’ influencer’s Instagram imagery could be considered sexist, positioning femininity to appeal purely to men’s ideals of a ‘perfect’ woman. Take for example, the onslaught of comments from middle-aged men on the image above posted by fitness star Tammy Hembrow. In this sense, academics argue that we live in a masculine-centred culture where women are consistently evaluated on their physical appearance, and female influencers have become a symbol of gendered, sexualised labour.
While feminist scholars have always raised awareness about the way in which women embody gender and sexuality, some scholars attempt to argue that this form of sexualised self-promotion is merely an expression of female empowerment.
Take Kelsey Wells as an example. Her Instagram is littered with comments from men about her sexuality, looks and body. Yet her message to women is that fitness is not about looking a certain way to please others, is it about feeling a certain way within yourself. Rather than working out rigorously to adhere to society’s accepted version of a ‘perfect-body’, Wells promotes a post-feminist perspective, where fitness is a tool for crafting female empowerment:
“You do not have to choose between being strong OR vulnerable. Humble OR confident. Muscular OR feminine. Conservative OR sexy…Cease struggling to fit into the mould the world set forth for you made from the opinions of others and the ever fluctuating standards of society. In fact, take that mould and SHATTER IT.”
It is messages from social media stars like this that are encouraging women to break the socially constructed boundaries of body-image ‘perfection’ that social platforms love to promote. But this is an easy message to promote when you have the figure of Kelsey Wells — unlike the majority of us who are struggling to hit the gym once a week, and certainly don’t have a six pack that rivals Schwarzenegger’s.
The idea that physical activity can empower women is not new; with scholars accepting it is a phenomenon dating back to women and aerobics in the 80s. However, what is new is the affordances of digital media providing a platform for fitness influencers to share their perfect bodies and messages of empowerment with the world. But it turns out a major flaw exists in the argument of female empowerment. As academic Bradshaw argues, it is still based on the premise of comparing oneself to socially conditioned beauty ideals, essentially undermining the entire concept of ‘empowerment’. Further, the majority of women agree that the opposite is true, with provocative imagery posted by fitness media stars actually leading to feelings of disempowerment.
If empowerment in the context of fitness and physical activity is supposedly allowing women the ability to resist societal pressures to conform to the ideal female body, how come we see fitness influencers promoting this message alongside images of their perfectly shaped, toned and youthful bodies? Sure, it can be argued that female fitness influencers validate a clear relationship between power and sexuality, promoting strength and femininity all within one frame. But the argument of ‘empowerment’ remains an illusion, because at the core, females are still basing their notions of empowerment around socially constructed, pre-existing standards of the idealised ‘female’ body.
