Down to Earth, dad bods and downright body shaming: The clickbait chronicles
Normally, I try to avoid the clickbait headlines that tend to frequent celebrity-gossip accounts and the Daily Mail’s ‘Don’t Miss’ sidebar. I do not follow celebrity news, and I cannot tell you which is Khloe and which is Kourtney. But, upon occasion, one such headline will infiltrate my timeline or newsfeed. One that is so ludicrously petty and outrageously ridiculous that I simply cannot resist clicking on it. And, hence, I have fallen for the bait. I am tumbling through a wormhole of A-list relationship updates and reading, in far too much depth, about Z-listers’ holiday wardrobes. Often in genuine disbelief at the absurdity that someone could care that much about celebrities’ lives, my intrigue overcomes me. What could such repugnant and distasteful headlines possibly have to say in the subsequent 1000 words? But that is the success of clickbait. And this week’s source of unavoidable intrigue came via a Twitter thread that riled me through its unabashed body shaming and lack of awareness. The victim: Zac Efron’s dad bod?
In his latest Netflix release, Down To Earth, Efron travels the world seeking the answers to the big questions. Sustainability, health, fulfilment. The eight-part series follows the ex-Disney star as he embarks on a journey across Europe and South America, joined by wellness expert Darin Olien. Yet it was not the show’s content that first brought it to my attention. It was through an article by the New York Post that highlighted “Efron’s ‘dad-bod’ transformation” as a shocking antidote to his Baywatch physique. Fascinated by the unusual male-targeted body-shaming that this headline suggested, I opened up a new tab and began reading. The article is essentially a commentary on fan’s opinions of Efron’s transformation. It contrasts the “washboard abs” he sported in previous roles to the “decidedly broader” physique seen in Down To Earth. The response to the show focused entirely on Efron and his newfound ‘daddy’ status. The original Twitter thread was no better.
Aside from the freakishly Freudian rhetoric running through the comments, many Twitter users fought back at the undercurrent of body shaming. Some highlighted that Efron has spoken out about how unhealthy and unsustainable his diet and training for Baywatch were. In the episode centred in Sardinia, Italy, Efron touches briefly on the insanity of the regime that meant he avoided carbohydrates for six months prior to filming. Thankfully, the response to this article seems to realise the unhealthy (and unfair) connotations of comparing his younger physique to that of his 32-year-old self. But they validate his body by categorising him within the ‘daddy’ aesthetic, used to describe older men with a rounder, or softer body type. As Urban Dictionary eloquently puts it: “If human bodies were cuts of meat, the dad bod would skew more marbled rib eye than filet mignon”. My problem with this dad-bod discourse is that it only serves to normalise one male body type other than the super-ripped, veiny, bulked-up bods of professional athletes and gymophiles. It is reminiscent of the popularisation of ‘curvy’ women in place of tall, thin model trends. Curvy women, of course, meaning those with big boobs, a big bum, and a tiny waist. It is not body positivity; it simply creates a new set of ideals for people to be held to.
Another article by the Metro, which attempts to debunk the dad-bod philosophy, is entitled “Efron’s manly abs divide the internet once again”. This idea that abs are “manly” and that being muscular equates to masculinity feeds into toxic – and binary – gender expectations. It tells men that they must be big and strong to be masculine and, in the same breath, insists women should be petite and slim. But it is far more subtle than this. Consequently, we have been conditioned to believe that a six-pack is a sex symbol, that big muscles indicate strength and power, which we attribute to masculinity. That tall women are sexy, but only if they are the slim, long-legged creatures that walk the runways in lingerie, only if they are still shorter than the men they date. ‘Tomboys’ are expected to grow out of it and ‘femme’ boys are reserved for TikTok trends. This running commentary on gender stereotypes and beauty ideals percolates every aspect of our lives. It creates unrealistic expectations that affect us all, across the gender spectrum.
However, some Twitter users showed a preference for Efron’s newfound role as a “somewhat hairy, normal hunk” over the “plastic Ken toy” look. They validated his body, rejecting the extreme stereotype of masculinity that we are conditioned to believe as soon as we are old enough to take our Barbie dolls swimming in the bath. Yet I cannot help but feel this sentiment misses the point entirely. Validating one body type by undermining another is fighting body shaming with body shaming. The effort to tackle the NY Post’s article and its inherently reprehensible focus on physique, in some cases, is just as damaging. I could tell you that Efron is clearly far healthier post-rehab, even if that enhanced mental and physical wellbeing does not come with a six-pack and bulging biceps. I could say that he looks great with his ‘dad-bod’. But I fear this would defeat my point. Really, nobody has a right to comment on somebody else’s body. Nobody is entitled to voice their opinions on where Efron looks better and whether he is still attractive in his 30s.
This is something that public figures deal with on a regular basis. Society places celebrities on a pedestal. One that simultaneously idolises and dehumanises them. In doing so, their lives become so separated from our own that they are continually treated with disrespect. Their private lives are splayed over the internet for the public to dissect and comment on, including their bodies and looks. The damage in this is two-fold. Firstly, it fails to see celebrities and public figures as human, thus not acknowledge that they, too, will be negatively impacted by constant criticism and trolling. But it also teaches us that it is ok to treat people like this, to hold our own and others’ bodies to unreasonable standards. Though there is a responsibility that comes with being in the public eye, it is a responsibility to lead by example and positively harness influence. Not to look a certain way. Not to look like Troy Bolton forever, nor to give up pasta for a Baywatch bod. When the media writes articles commenting on celebrities’ bodies, it normalises having an opinion on other people’s physiques. Moreover, it normalises expressing that opinion.
I read the article about Efron for the same reason I read the trolling comments targeting Love Island star Molly-Mae Hague in recent bikini photos. Disappointingly, my frustration allowed me to rise to the clickbait. When I was 18, I modelled for a household fashion brand’s summer campaign. I am, by no means, a public figure. Nor was I at the time. But I remember very clearly reading through the comments on the Instagram release. The human brain can be fantastically cruel in that it will remember criticism and negative comments better than praise. I still wonder why some people felt it necessary to make such callous comments about my body when they did not know me. Their reasoning is likely the same as the trolls lurking in the comments section of the Mail Online. It puzzles me that we continue to see tabloids churning out these articles and that we continue to read them. It is a commentary both on the unrealistic ideals that we continue to perpetuate, and the normalisation of body shaming.