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Mijn lijf
Wat betekent het om een vrouw te zijn, en een product?
Emily Ratajkowski wordt wereldwijd bejubeld als model en actrice, maar is ook een geëngageerd feministe, succesvol
zakenvrouw, wereldwijd socialmediafenomeen en essayschrijver. Sinds haar doorbraak op haar eenentwintigste oogst
Ratajkowski lof en furore met haar provocatieve stelling dat het vertonen van haar lichaam een uiting is van feministische trots.
In dit boek geeft ze haar visie op het vermarkten van vrouwen in onze cultuur. Mijn lijf is een diepgravende, persoonlijke
verkenning van feminisme, seksualiteit en macht. Hoe komen vrouwen ertoe hun behandeling door mannen te accepteren? In haar essays beschrijft Ratajkowski ervaringen uit haar eigen leven en onderzoekt ze de fetisjering van meisjes en van vrouwelijke schoonheid, de obsessie en minachting voor de vrouwelijke seksualiteit, de perverse
verhoudingen in de mode- en filmindustrie en het grijze gebied tussen toestemming en misbruik.
Mijn lijf is het onverbloemde, scherpzinnige en genuanceerde debuut van een nieuwe, moedige en intelligente schrijver.
213 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 9, 2021
2905 people are currently reading
93372 people want to read
About the author
Emily Ratajkowski
3 books583 followersEmily O'Hara Ratajkowski is an American model, actress, activist, entrepreneur, and writer. She was born in London to American parents and raised in San Diego, California. She has starred in David Fincher’s Gone Girl, among other films. Ratajkowski has also appeared on the covers of multiple magazines and walked the runway for numerous high fashion brands. Her 2020 essay for New York magazine, “Buying Myself Back,” garnered over one million views within twenty-four hours, was hailed as a landmark, and was the magazine’s most-read piece of the year. My Body is her first book.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 10,421 reviews
November 20, 2021
I have not experienced this kind of ambivalence about a book in a long time. To even start this, I had to suspend some of my biases and preconceived notions about Emily Ratajkowski. Although I did already know she is a talented writer based on her essay in NY Mag, which is featured again here in My Body. But I will be honest, I wasn’t sure I cared enough about her perspective, the same woman who 75% of my ex boyfriends religiously liked every single one of her Instagram posts, to read her entire book. However, I found myself very moved by her essays. Ratajkowski is a a survivor of sexual violence. Much of the essays discuss the myriad of ways her body has been violated, and the power dynamics that her body is subject to as a model from predatory photographers to billionaire princes paying for her company. The act itself of writing this book was Ratajkowski attempting to gain control of a narrative surrounding her image that she never had control of. And to allow herself the space for what all people desire, to be allowed to be multidimensional and to be taken seriously. It is empowering. However, it is empowering solely to her. There is nothing collectively empowering to women about this book.
My Body is very much about the male gaze, but only as it is pointed at Ratajkowski. The only times the female gaze is ever explored is through Ratajkowski’s own eyes as she strategically ranks herself compared to other women and through her mother’s, who also compares Ratajkowski to other women, establishing herself as the most beautiful, the most attractive. Ratajkowski never goes so deep to reflect on the female gaze directed at her. This feels like a massive blind spot, so much so in fact that I wonder if Ratajkowski has possibly never given that thought before. She never ponders how her image may impact adolescent girls. How in the competition that she has “won,” the losers suffer with low self-esteem, eating disorders, depression. She never questions that by even participating in the industry she does, what harm she causes. She never interrogates the White Supremacist beauty standards, for which she perfectly upholds. She does, however, make it abundantly clear that the only reason she ever modeled in the first place is to make money. Again, the deepest she goes as to the ethics of this is a flip comment made by her husband that (paraphrased) “fuck capitalism but until there is a new system, let’s make money.” And she does. She follows the Kardashian business model of making fast fashion and then selling it via Instagram. I had hoped that Ratajkowski would prove her politics to be beyond just the surface level, as she is one of the more prominent celebrity supporters of Bernie Sanders, that she might provide meaningful critique to her industry and the ways in which it enables capitalism, racism, and environmental destruction. Yet, she misses every opportunity to do so. Without addressing these systems of oppression, her exploration of power does not hold water. And if she does hope to find liberation from the tight control of rich men, the only way that will ever be achieved is through collectivism of all oppressed by these systems. Especially since it becomes clearer and clearer to her that her beauty and her wealth (when compared to the mega-rich) do not afford her power and control over her life.
I’m not upset I read this. Ratajkowski is an excellent writer (although I can see in the reviews people find it hard to believe that, which is my friends, sexist). It gives humanness and complexity to a controversial woman that most only know through her 2d image. It also feels extremely relevant in an era where the floodgates have opened for more and more women to commodify their own image through Instagram influencing and OnlyFans. It is thought-provoking and worth reading.
My Body is very much about the male gaze, but only as it is pointed at Ratajkowski. The only times the female gaze is ever explored is through Ratajkowski’s own eyes as she strategically ranks herself compared to other women and through her mother’s, who also compares Ratajkowski to other women, establishing herself as the most beautiful, the most attractive. Ratajkowski never goes so deep to reflect on the female gaze directed at her. This feels like a massive blind spot, so much so in fact that I wonder if Ratajkowski has possibly never given that thought before. She never ponders how her image may impact adolescent girls. How in the competition that she has “won,” the losers suffer with low self-esteem, eating disorders, depression. She never questions that by even participating in the industry she does, what harm she causes. She never interrogates the White Supremacist beauty standards, for which she perfectly upholds. She does, however, make it abundantly clear that the only reason she ever modeled in the first place is to make money. Again, the deepest she goes as to the ethics of this is a flip comment made by her husband that (paraphrased) “fuck capitalism but until there is a new system, let’s make money.” And she does. She follows the Kardashian business model of making fast fashion and then selling it via Instagram. I had hoped that Ratajkowski would prove her politics to be beyond just the surface level, as she is one of the more prominent celebrity supporters of Bernie Sanders, that she might provide meaningful critique to her industry and the ways in which it enables capitalism, racism, and environmental destruction. Yet, she misses every opportunity to do so. Without addressing these systems of oppression, her exploration of power does not hold water. And if she does hope to find liberation from the tight control of rich men, the only way that will ever be achieved is through collectivism of all oppressed by these systems. Especially since it becomes clearer and clearer to her that her beauty and her wealth (when compared to the mega-rich) do not afford her power and control over her life.
I’m not upset I read this. Ratajkowski is an excellent writer (although I can see in the reviews people find it hard to believe that, which is my friends, sexist). It gives humanness and complexity to a controversial woman that most only know through her 2d image. It also feels extremely relevant in an era where the floodgates have opened for more and more women to commodify their own image through Instagram influencing and OnlyFans. It is thought-provoking and worth reading.
March 18, 2024
i don't believe that extraordinarily hot people should also be allowed to be interesting and intelligent, for reasons of fairness. unfortunately emily ratajkowski did not listen to me
lately i've had reason to consider what it is we want, or expect from, our celebrity class. a year or so ago i made a rule for myself that i had to stop investing myself in the personal lives of people i do not know, because i am the kind of obsessive who has spent an embarrassing chunk of my life in hellish places called things like "stan twitter" and "tumblr" and "one's early teens."
this was so shockingly easy, and immediately so much better for my brain, that it gave me cause to wonder why we like celebrities at all.
in this case, ratajkowski came to us as a beautiful person. we made her rich and famous because she is nice to look at, and because when she is in or on or near things we want to buy them.
as it turns out, we never bothered to really perceive the person we loved to look at, and it turns out she has things to say.
so, okay, beautiful person, we tell her - we will do what we do with all the people like her, and buy "your book" (with a heavy number of winks here to indicate that we know she didn't write it, but that's okay, she's still very lovely to look at).
like many celebrity memoirs, this was a new york times bestseller and background fodder for a lot of instagram stories, but unlike many celebrity memoirs (sorry, and there are exceptions), the author clearly wrote this. and it's a tad deeper than usual.
but for many, it hasn't been good enough!
i am not someone who often tailors my expectations, so i can understand. if an author i love is releasing a book, or a story that sounds good has an amazing cover, i lose all sense of reason immediately and approach kid-in-a-candy-store levels of inhuman excitement, only to parrot the ensuing tantrum-esque disappointment that follows the sugar rush of finally reading it.
but this is a book by a model, and it is called "my body," and so i expected...that. a book by a model about being a model, and what that means for your sense of self.
it is, basically, what i got, albeit far more skillfully done. this is a better book than i expected, the observations more astute and less self-aggrandizing, the writing far lovelier than anticipated.
but if you go into this wanting Grand Declarations about life and patriarchy and body image (and really, people are sure expecting a lot of large-scale generalizations from a book whose title tells you it is about exactly one body), and if you want the author to beat herself up for her pretty privilege, you will not be getting it.
but my expectations were reasonable, for once, and i found myself not wanting it to end.
bottom line: unfortunately for emrata and myself - i remain unable to hate her out of jealousy and pettiness!
lately i've had reason to consider what it is we want, or expect from, our celebrity class. a year or so ago i made a rule for myself that i had to stop investing myself in the personal lives of people i do not know, because i am the kind of obsessive who has spent an embarrassing chunk of my life in hellish places called things like "stan twitter" and "tumblr" and "one's early teens."
this was so shockingly easy, and immediately so much better for my brain, that it gave me cause to wonder why we like celebrities at all.
in this case, ratajkowski came to us as a beautiful person. we made her rich and famous because she is nice to look at, and because when she is in or on or near things we want to buy them.
as it turns out, we never bothered to really perceive the person we loved to look at, and it turns out she has things to say.
so, okay, beautiful person, we tell her - we will do what we do with all the people like her, and buy "your book" (with a heavy number of winks here to indicate that we know she didn't write it, but that's okay, she's still very lovely to look at).
like many celebrity memoirs, this was a new york times bestseller and background fodder for a lot of instagram stories, but unlike many celebrity memoirs (sorry, and there are exceptions), the author clearly wrote this. and it's a tad deeper than usual.
but for many, it hasn't been good enough!
i am not someone who often tailors my expectations, so i can understand. if an author i love is releasing a book, or a story that sounds good has an amazing cover, i lose all sense of reason immediately and approach kid-in-a-candy-store levels of inhuman excitement, only to parrot the ensuing tantrum-esque disappointment that follows the sugar rush of finally reading it.
but this is a book by a model, and it is called "my body," and so i expected...that. a book by a model about being a model, and what that means for your sense of self.
it is, basically, what i got, albeit far more skillfully done. this is a better book than i expected, the observations more astute and less self-aggrandizing, the writing far lovelier than anticipated.
but if you go into this wanting Grand Declarations about life and patriarchy and body image (and really, people are sure expecting a lot of large-scale generalizations from a book whose title tells you it is about exactly one body), and if you want the author to beat herself up for her pretty privilege, you will not be getting it.
but my expectations were reasonable, for once, and i found myself not wanting it to end.
bottom line: unfortunately for emrata and myself - i remain unable to hate her out of jealousy and pettiness!
December 19, 2021
Let me start by saying that Emily Ratajkowski is a brilliant writer. These essays are vivid, captivating, and tender, but so empowered. She discusses the commodification of her body throughout her career, as well as the abuse and mistreatment she has faced in the brutal modelling industry with nuance and clarity. This feels like her way of taking back control of many of the narratives that have followed her career, though I'm not sure it there are many lessons the average Joe can take away from it and apply to their own lives. After all, Emily Ratajkowski is a singular talent.
November 10, 2021
Would give it a 4, but 5 because of all the haters
November 26, 2022
i believe we should start burning men at the stake
October 15, 2021
So basically we have a women who’s bashing a industry that made her famous and is still a part of it. Saying she’s been sexualized by men but keep posing naked photos on IG every week for likes and male attention. Saying she was so uncomfortable on set being naked for photo shoot and video but still did it for the paycheck? Am I supposed to have empathy for her? She literally said she didn’t speaks against Robin Thicke before because she wouldn’t been famous i mean… hello?!
February 7, 2022
please read this book. I will not accept any review discarding emily’s experiences because she’s rich and/or beautiful or any other reason. These essays are valid. It made me feel understood and I feel like I’ve learned so much reading this book!
January 17, 2024
3.75
before reading this i think it’s useful to know that it’s more of a non-linear memoir, rather than an essay collection exploring different subjects with occasional personal anecdotes (think in the vein of trick mirror by jia tolentino, which i originally thought this was going to be similar to). but of course, as the book is titled my body it’s kind of a given that the book will centre emily ratajkowski and her personal relationship and experiences relating to her body, even if it wasn’t necessarily marketed that way.
if you’ve read any of her articles beforehand, you’d know that ratajkowski is a talented writer and storyteller, and this book only further proves that point. her essays are honest, brave, and deeply personal, chronicling her experience of grappling with her own beauty and objectification within the confines of a patriarchal and capitalist world - which, she argues, has brought her money and fame, but never true empowerment. she explores how young girls, including herself, are taught from an early age to cater to the male gaze, whether that be unconscious teaching or otherwise. as an experienced model, she provides incredibly important critiques of the corrupt modelling industry, reflecting on several instances where she was placed into dangerous situations or was taken advantage of with the promise of career advancement. she also shares her experiences of sexual assault with unflinching honesty, and her anger at how normalised these experiences have become for many girls and women is starkly apparent.
a recurring thought i had while reading this book largely centred around the question of ‘what is feminist/empowering, and what is just perpetuating the objectification of women under the guise of empowerment?’. although this is an idea that ratajkowski reckons with herself, i do wish it was explored in some more depth. she criticises capitalism and patriarchy throughout the book and celebrates the fact that she has ‘cheated’ the system for her own financial gain, capitalising on her own body and men’s desire to essentially make the patriarchy work for her. however, she is still an active participant in the systems which she argues are so oppressive, an argument which rings true in an essay where she questions the ethics and moral dilemmas of a paid-for trip to a luxury resort in the maldives, asserting that she is different from ‘those rich people’, when really she is one in the same.
however, it is important to note that it’s not ratajkowski’s job to unpack such complex questions surrounding feminism, capitalism, female objectification etc, and i do think it’s a little unfair to expect her to do so. the book is, by my observation, a personal memoir written in essay-form, so it’s not surprising that it foregrounds the personal experiences of its writer. i think these expectations are largely due to this book being continuously labelled as a ‘feminist’ work, which suggests it will involve some examination of existing social structures or previous feminist thought. but again, it’s not ratajkowski’s job nor her aim to do this, which serves as a reminder that we shouldn’t rely on celebrities for political analysis. the book is a personal account of one woman’s relationship with her own body and experience in the modelling industry, and that’s all it needs to be.
before reading this i think it’s useful to know that it’s more of a non-linear memoir, rather than an essay collection exploring different subjects with occasional personal anecdotes (think in the vein of trick mirror by jia tolentino, which i originally thought this was going to be similar to). but of course, as the book is titled my body it’s kind of a given that the book will centre emily ratajkowski and her personal relationship and experiences relating to her body, even if it wasn’t necessarily marketed that way.
if you’ve read any of her articles beforehand, you’d know that ratajkowski is a talented writer and storyteller, and this book only further proves that point. her essays are honest, brave, and deeply personal, chronicling her experience of grappling with her own beauty and objectification within the confines of a patriarchal and capitalist world - which, she argues, has brought her money and fame, but never true empowerment. she explores how young girls, including herself, are taught from an early age to cater to the male gaze, whether that be unconscious teaching or otherwise. as an experienced model, she provides incredibly important critiques of the corrupt modelling industry, reflecting on several instances where she was placed into dangerous situations or was taken advantage of with the promise of career advancement. she also shares her experiences of sexual assault with unflinching honesty, and her anger at how normalised these experiences have become for many girls and women is starkly apparent.
a recurring thought i had while reading this book largely centred around the question of ‘what is feminist/empowering, and what is just perpetuating the objectification of women under the guise of empowerment?’. although this is an idea that ratajkowski reckons with herself, i do wish it was explored in some more depth. she criticises capitalism and patriarchy throughout the book and celebrates the fact that she has ‘cheated’ the system for her own financial gain, capitalising on her own body and men’s desire to essentially make the patriarchy work for her. however, she is still an active participant in the systems which she argues are so oppressive, an argument which rings true in an essay where she questions the ethics and moral dilemmas of a paid-for trip to a luxury resort in the maldives, asserting that she is different from ‘those rich people’, when really she is one in the same.
however, it is important to note that it’s not ratajkowski’s job to unpack such complex questions surrounding feminism, capitalism, female objectification etc, and i do think it’s a little unfair to expect her to do so. the book is, by my observation, a personal memoir written in essay-form, so it’s not surprising that it foregrounds the personal experiences of its writer. i think these expectations are largely due to this book being continuously labelled as a ‘feminist’ work, which suggests it will involve some examination of existing social structures or previous feminist thought. but again, it’s not ratajkowski’s job nor her aim to do this, which serves as a reminder that we shouldn’t rely on celebrities for political analysis. the book is a personal account of one woman’s relationship with her own body and experience in the modelling industry, and that’s all it needs to be.
November 16, 2021
gorgeous gorgeous girls write books
November 12, 2021
Listen.. I really wanted to like this, but I found it nauseating. Her writing isn't terrible (considering what I was expecting), but I struggle to imagine it holding weight if she were to turn her observation outward. The woman is overly fixated on public perception, and this seems more like an attempt to be rebranded as Joan Didion than it does a valiant effort to direct a wider discussion on the harms of objectifying/commodifying women. In spite of her effort to absolve herself of accountability, she does nothing to acknowledge her place in perpetuating the very structure she claims to be fighting against.
It's strange that she frequently victimizes herself for coming from a financially precarious upbringing, but her descriptions of a southern Californian upbringing (which involved frequent international travel and an expensive education) suggest otherwise. She desperately wants to be seen as an underdog, but comes off incredibly self absorbed and out of touch.
And the writing- It seems like a sloppy imitation of "Good" writing, but it was overly self congratulatory and lacks self awareness. She is incapable of forming a cohesive observation of anything beyond her own self delusion. An attempt was made, but I definitely would not recommend this book to anyone looking for something of substance.
It's strange that she frequently victimizes herself for coming from a financially precarious upbringing, but her descriptions of a southern Californian upbringing (which involved frequent international travel and an expensive education) suggest otherwise. She desperately wants to be seen as an underdog, but comes off incredibly self absorbed and out of touch.
And the writing- It seems like a sloppy imitation of "Good" writing, but it was overly self congratulatory and lacks self awareness. She is incapable of forming a cohesive observation of anything beyond her own self delusion. An attempt was made, but I definitely would not recommend this book to anyone looking for something of substance.
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March 12, 2023
‘Beauty was a way for me to be special’
Bodily autonomy is a complex issue, particularly so in beauty industries when women’s bodies are commodified under capitalism My Body, a memoir by model and actress Emily Ratajkowski, dives headlong into this fraught terrain as she examines her own struggles having beauty conflated with self-worth but also as an avenue to financial stability in a world full of power struggles and value that bows to the gaze of men. Having propelled into the general public consciousness in 2013 for her role in the ‘Blurred Lines’ music video for a man now mostly known for a slew of abuse scandals, Ratajkowski grapples with concepts of beauty and empowerment while also criticizing the industries surrounding them across essays that range from addressing sexual assault and aggression upon her as an underaged model to having no control over representations of her body as well as looking at the social conditioning that opens the doors to these issues. ‘The purpose of this book is not to arrive at answers,’ she admits, ‘but to honestly explore ideas I can’t help but return to,’ and while this book is likely to garner a wide range of reactions it is undeniably thought provoking, well written and worth reading as she vacillates between rage she does not feel free to express and embracing the ‘joy life can be in this body.’
Emily Ratajkowki has been making headlines for years, from being in the much-debated Robin Thicke music video (she writes about being groped by him which disrupted the entire set), acting in the film Gone Girl (having been suggested for the role by Aflack when the director asked for a woman ‘men love but women hate’), to multiple lawsuits and debates over who has the rights to their own image. Her essay Buying Myself Back on the appropriation of her image without consent was the most-read piece in New York Magazine that year, and is included here in My Body as well. These essays are her attempt to address ‘how limited any woman’s power is when she survives and even succeeds in the world as a thing to be looked at.’
This is a role she details that she was raised to fulfill, with a mother who seemed to place her whole identity in the beauty of her daughter. ‘My mother seems to hold the way my beauty is affirmed by the world like a mirror,’ she writes, ‘reflecting back to her a measure of her own worth.’ She writes about how from an early age her self-worth was tied up in how her body was valued, particularly by men in power who held all the keys.
Ratajkowski takes a critical look at how this became the narrative of her life. She recalls the reactions to Brittany Spears shaving her head seeming more an outcry of rage for her supposedly robbing the world of a beauty (the idea being that her own body and image was not her own to alter without the consent of any run-of-the-mill lusty man), recognizes that her first sexual encouter was, in fact, rape, and thinks about how her social maneuvering was mostly about perceptions of her body than anything else. It should be kept in mind that all these moments of her rise towards fame, such as aging photographers doing topless photoshoots while claiming women who are successful only did it through exploiting mens lusts with their nude image (yea, eye roll away here), occured when she was a teenager.
‘Money means power,” she writes, “and by capitalizing on my sexuality I have money. The whole damn system is corrupt and anyone who participates is just as guilty as I am.’ She is self-aware about all this, and one would wonder if she will continue to perpetuate it. There is an interesting aspect here, particularly when it comes to criticisms of the work, that Emily is criticizing the same industries and beauty standards she is using for her personal wealth. Welcome to capitalism, I suppose? We have a tendency to find ways to delegitimize criticisms of profit systems and industries: critique it from outside the system and you are told you don’t know what you are talking about, critique from within and you are exploiting or hypocritical. Mostly it comes down to silencing criticisms and derailing progress, something that happens more frequently and severely if the critique comes from a woman (see Dr. Kate Manne’s essay on misogyny and policing of women in Entitled for a good examination of this). ‘I’m trying to succeed in a capitalist system,’ Ratajkowski preempts this criticism, ‘but that doesn’t mean I like the game,’ and much of her essays position her as having been so socialized into ‘the game’ that her self-image and mental health hinges on her success within it.
‘All women are objectified and sexualized to some degree,’ she says, ‘I figured, so I might as well do it on my own terms. I thought that there was power in my ability to choose to do so.’ This power, she says she learns, is still at the whims of men. One essay describes a job she is made to take by her boss to appear in public with a wealthy businessman who has bought her company. She learns simply going with him isn’t the whole job but, because he has paid for her, she is also expected to entertain and be charming. All her attempts to be empowered and in control lead to discovering the control is not hers. And this even occurs in legal situations where control of her own body and image is able to be appropriated for profit by men. She has been sued for $150,000 for posting a photo of herself on instagram that was taken by a paparazzi without her consent. Year later, Richard Price did a painting of one of Emily’s instagram posts, displayed it in a gallery and sold it for $80,000 (so she sold an NFT of herself standing in front of his painting). She has also had private nude photos of her leaked onto the internet and the person who did it claimed she deserved it for having done nude photo shoots for profit. To all this she writes:
Beauty can be power, she argues, but it is not power one is allowed to control. Perhaps the industry itself is the problem and the socialized ideas of beauty. This was addressed by Tressie McMillan Cottom in her book Thick: And Other Essays:
Not only is this sort of capital problematic, but it also enforces the men to believe they have the control and women are at their mercy. She looks at how she is unable to even have agency over her own emotions and how her building rage must always be internalized lest it be judged if she puts it on display. The final essay deals with many types of repressed emotions, though ends with beautiful sentiments on motherhood and the power of seeing another life be formed from one’s body.
These essays don’t address aspects of race or the impression of bodies when it comes to trans folk, but Ratajkowski has framed all these as a highly personal memoir and there is a lot to consider in this book. Personally, I don’t feel like I get, or even necessarily even need to have, an opinion here and would rather use my voice to recommend listening to her takes for yourself. For better or worse, what she has to say is thought provoking. ‘It’s fair, of course, for her to criticize the system she works within,’ writes Eva Wiseman for the Guardian review of the book, ‘but it’s unclear whether she cares enough to change it.’ The New York Times asked 'In a World That Exploits Women, Emily Ratajkowski Exploits Herself. Is That Progress?, which seems to be the main question on this book. Also, ‘Does a more equitable distribution of cash really make a difference to the young women who scroll through Instagram, rapidly absorbing new reasons to despise themselves?’ questions journalist Molly Young, ‘that, it seems to me, is the unsolvable moral question at the heart of this book.’ On the other hand, journalist Scaachi Koul writes that ‘any art, any writing, any attempt to detangle ourselves from the cruel stagnation of body-shaming is progress.’ Read, listen, learn, and decide for yourself here. All in all, I’m glad I read these.
Bodily autonomy is a complex issue, particularly so in beauty industries when women’s bodies are commodified under capitalism My Body, a memoir by model and actress Emily Ratajkowski, dives headlong into this fraught terrain as she examines her own struggles having beauty conflated with self-worth but also as an avenue to financial stability in a world full of power struggles and value that bows to the gaze of men. Having propelled into the general public consciousness in 2013 for her role in the ‘Blurred Lines’ music video for a man now mostly known for a slew of abuse scandals, Ratajkowski grapples with concepts of beauty and empowerment while also criticizing the industries surrounding them across essays that range from addressing sexual assault and aggression upon her as an underaged model to having no control over representations of her body as well as looking at the social conditioning that opens the doors to these issues. ‘The purpose of this book is not to arrive at answers,’ she admits, ‘but to honestly explore ideas I can’t help but return to,’ and while this book is likely to garner a wide range of reactions it is undeniably thought provoking, well written and worth reading as she vacillates between rage she does not feel free to express and embracing the ‘joy life can be in this body.’
Emily Ratajkowki has been making headlines for years, from being in the much-debated Robin Thicke music video (she writes about being groped by him which disrupted the entire set), acting in the film Gone Girl (having been suggested for the role by Aflack when the director asked for a woman ‘men love but women hate’), to multiple lawsuits and debates over who has the rights to their own image. Her essay Buying Myself Back on the appropriation of her image without consent was the most-read piece in New York Magazine that year, and is included here in My Body as well. These essays are her attempt to address ‘how limited any woman’s power is when she survives and even succeeds in the world as a thing to be looked at.’
This is a role she details that she was raised to fulfill, with a mother who seemed to place her whole identity in the beauty of her daughter. ‘My mother seems to hold the way my beauty is affirmed by the world like a mirror,’ she writes, ‘reflecting back to her a measure of her own worth.’ She writes about how from an early age her self-worth was tied up in how her body was valued, particularly by men in power who held all the keys.
‘In my early twenties, it had never occurred to me that the women who gained their power from beauty were indebted to the men whose desire granted them that power in the first place. Those men were the ones in control, not the women the world fawned over.’
Ratajkowski takes a critical look at how this became the narrative of her life. She recalls the reactions to Brittany Spears shaving her head seeming more an outcry of rage for her supposedly robbing the world of a beauty (the idea being that her own body and image was not her own to alter without the consent of any run-of-the-mill lusty man), recognizes that her first sexual encouter was, in fact, rape, and thinks about how her social maneuvering was mostly about perceptions of her body than anything else. It should be kept in mind that all these moments of her rise towards fame, such as aging photographers doing topless photoshoots while claiming women who are successful only did it through exploiting mens lusts with their nude image (yea, eye roll away here), occured when she was a teenager.
‘Money means power,” she writes, “and by capitalizing on my sexuality I have money. The whole damn system is corrupt and anyone who participates is just as guilty as I am.’ She is self-aware about all this, and one would wonder if she will continue to perpetuate it. There is an interesting aspect here, particularly when it comes to criticisms of the work, that Emily is criticizing the same industries and beauty standards she is using for her personal wealth. Welcome to capitalism, I suppose? We have a tendency to find ways to delegitimize criticisms of profit systems and industries: critique it from outside the system and you are told you don’t know what you are talking about, critique from within and you are exploiting or hypocritical. Mostly it comes down to silencing criticisms and derailing progress, something that happens more frequently and severely if the critique comes from a woman (see Dr. Kate Manne’s essay on misogyny and policing of women in Entitled for a good examination of this). ‘I’m trying to succeed in a capitalist system,’ Ratajkowski preempts this criticism, ‘but that doesn’t mean I like the game,’ and much of her essays position her as having been so socialized into ‘the game’ that her self-image and mental health hinges on her success within it.
‘All women are objectified and sexualized to some degree,’ she says, ‘I figured, so I might as well do it on my own terms. I thought that there was power in my ability to choose to do so.’ This power, she says she learns, is still at the whims of men. One essay describes a job she is made to take by her boss to appear in public with a wealthy businessman who has bought her company. She learns simply going with him isn’t the whole job but, because he has paid for her, she is also expected to entertain and be charming. All her attempts to be empowered and in control lead to discovering the control is not hers. And this even occurs in legal situations where control of her own body and image is able to be appropriated for profit by men. She has been sued for $150,000 for posting a photo of herself on instagram that was taken by a paparazzi without her consent. Year later, Richard Price did a painting of one of Emily’s instagram posts, displayed it in a gallery and sold it for $80,000 (so she sold an NFT of herself standing in front of his painting). She has also had private nude photos of her leaked onto the internet and the person who did it claimed she deserved it for having done nude photo shoots for profit. To all this she writes:
‘Whatever influence and status I’ve gained were only granted to me because I appealed to men. My position brought me in close proximity to wealth and power and brought me some autonomy, but it hasn’t resulted in true empowerment.’
Beauty can be power, she argues, but it is not power one is allowed to control. Perhaps the industry itself is the problem and the socialized ideas of beauty. This was addressed by Tressie McMillan Cottom in her book Thick: And Other Essays:
‘Beauty is not good capital. I compounds the oppression of gender. It constrains those who identify as women against their will. It costs money and demands money. It colonizes. It hurts. It is painful. It can never be fully satisfied. It is not useful for human flourishing. Beauty is, like all capital, merely valuable.’
Not only is this sort of capital problematic, but it also enforces the men to believe they have the control and women are at their mercy. She looks at how she is unable to even have agency over her own emotions and how her building rage must always be internalized lest it be judged if she puts it on display. The final essay deals with many types of repressed emotions, though ends with beautiful sentiments on motherhood and the power of seeing another life be formed from one’s body.
These essays don’t address aspects of race or the impression of bodies when it comes to trans folk, but Ratajkowski has framed all these as a highly personal memoir and there is a lot to consider in this book. Personally, I don’t feel like I get, or even necessarily even need to have, an opinion here and would rather use my voice to recommend listening to her takes for yourself. For better or worse, what she has to say is thought provoking. ‘It’s fair, of course, for her to criticize the system she works within,’ writes Eva Wiseman for the Guardian review of the book, ‘but it’s unclear whether she cares enough to change it.’ The New York Times asked 'In a World That Exploits Women, Emily Ratajkowski Exploits Herself. Is That Progress?, which seems to be the main question on this book. Also, ‘Does a more equitable distribution of cash really make a difference to the young women who scroll through Instagram, rapidly absorbing new reasons to despise themselves?’ questions journalist Molly Young, ‘that, it seems to me, is the unsolvable moral question at the heart of this book.’ On the other hand, journalist Scaachi Koul writes that ‘any art, any writing, any attempt to detangle ourselves from the cruel stagnation of body-shaming is progress.’ Read, listen, learn, and decide for yourself here. All in all, I’m glad I read these.
November 9, 2021
Emily writes cleanly, and knows how to tell a story. This is not a book about feminism per se tho, as advertised. It is rather a book by a woman figuring out her view of the world and the many contradictions she inhabits and profits from.
This is also a book where the author constantly universalises her experience, demonstrating the limits of her analysis. ‘Model or influencer or actor or not, all women know what it’s like to use their sexuality for security in some capacity, I thought’, she says at one point, but is that true? Many statements like this were made, assertions that distract. The threads I found the most interesting were rarely delved into or brought to satisfying conclusion.
Emily is in a ‘position to know’ and is working to convert that into wisdom. She asks many questions and offers few answers - or changes in her behaviour. Perhaps the questions she ask will be useful thought provocations for her audience, but this unfortunately fell short of providing any new insight for me.
This is also a book where the author constantly universalises her experience, demonstrating the limits of her analysis. ‘Model or influencer or actor or not, all women know what it’s like to use their sexuality for security in some capacity, I thought’, she says at one point, but is that true? Many statements like this were made, assertions that distract. The threads I found the most interesting were rarely delved into or brought to satisfying conclusion.
Emily is in a ‘position to know’ and is working to convert that into wisdom. She asks many questions and offers few answers - or changes in her behaviour. Perhaps the questions she ask will be useful thought provocations for her audience, but this unfortunately fell short of providing any new insight for me.
November 13, 2021
There are a lot of contradictions in this book and honestly I think that is the main reason I liked it a lot.
Emily doesn't offer a black and white world or beautify her experiences and decisions. Like all of us, she has a complicated relationship with her mind and body and kudos for putting it down on paper like that.
Emily doesn't offer a black and white world or beautify her experiences and decisions. Like all of us, she has a complicated relationship with her mind and body and kudos for putting it down on paper like that.
November 9, 2021
Interesting in parts, honest but ultimately very contradicting and disjointed.
I like educating myself on feminism and on the fashion industry but I feel like this educated me on neither to a profound degree. Emily is no doubt an intellectual lady but this book failed to stimulate me intellectually in comparison to other books by more experienced authors on these subjects. I felt like too much ground was attempted to be covered and by doing so, failed to meaningfully engage on any particular topic.
It was increasingly frustrating to come across many contradictions in Emily's opinions and arguments as the book progressed. I appreciated that there were moments where Emily would suggest she understands she's contradicting herself but at other times it seemed like she's oblivious. Either way, it made it frustrating to get through as my intention was to read this to understand her perspective on important subjects but instead it felt like it was just a bunch of words that didn't really express a viewpoint or challenge my thinking nor was it educational.
The elements that I did like about the book was that Emily was very honest. Her experiences of abuse are raw and as a reader you do feel infuriated on behalf of her, nobody should ever have to go through what Emily experienced at the hands of certain exploitative individuals. I'm sure that any young individual reading this book will be able to take notes on red flags and avoid such circumstances themselves so Emily sharing those stories were probably the more positive aspects of the book as lessons can be taken from them.
All in all, this book claims to be a "profoundly personal exploration of feminism, sexuality, and power, of men's treatment of women and women's rationalizations for accepting that treatment". It does not fully deliver in that regard. It skims over all of those subjects, barely touching on them and provided very little meaningful outlook or anything profound on any of the subjects the book promised to cover.
I like educating myself on feminism and on the fashion industry but I feel like this educated me on neither to a profound degree. Emily is no doubt an intellectual lady but this book failed to stimulate me intellectually in comparison to other books by more experienced authors on these subjects. I felt like too much ground was attempted to be covered and by doing so, failed to meaningfully engage on any particular topic.
It was increasingly frustrating to come across many contradictions in Emily's opinions and arguments as the book progressed. I appreciated that there were moments where Emily would suggest she understands she's contradicting herself but at other times it seemed like she's oblivious. Either way, it made it frustrating to get through as my intention was to read this to understand her perspective on important subjects but instead it felt like it was just a bunch of words that didn't really express a viewpoint or challenge my thinking nor was it educational.
The elements that I did like about the book was that Emily was very honest. Her experiences of abuse are raw and as a reader you do feel infuriated on behalf of her, nobody should ever have to go through what Emily experienced at the hands of certain exploitative individuals. I'm sure that any young individual reading this book will be able to take notes on red flags and avoid such circumstances themselves so Emily sharing those stories were probably the more positive aspects of the book as lessons can be taken from them.
All in all, this book claims to be a "profoundly personal exploration of feminism, sexuality, and power, of men's treatment of women and women's rationalizations for accepting that treatment". It does not fully deliver in that regard. It skims over all of those subjects, barely touching on them and provided very little meaningful outlook or anything profound on any of the subjects the book promised to cover.
Read
November 28, 2021“The world celebrates and rewards women who are chosen by powerful men.”
I have been following Emily for years, so when she announced that she was publishing a memoir highlighting her relationship to fame, sexuality, and power, I was beyond ecstatic and read this in two sittings.
My Body opens up a door to some of the most intimate parts of Emily’s life where I was able to relate to her thoughts about being sexualized, commodified, and disrespected by countless men throughout her career.
Her memoir is raw, enlightening, an addictive read, and, sadly, relatable. While I may never begin to imagine the experiences she’s faced, her justifiable anger, frustration, and internal battles she grapples with is something that is all too familiar.
I am so proud of her for sharing her experiences with us, for setting the record straight, for speaking out, for shining a light on the darker side of the modeling industry and Hollywood in general.
I’m excited to see what else she writes next.
I have been following Emily for years, so when she announced that she was publishing a memoir highlighting her relationship to fame, sexuality, and power, I was beyond ecstatic and read this in two sittings.
My Body opens up a door to some of the most intimate parts of Emily’s life where I was able to relate to her thoughts about being sexualized, commodified, and disrespected by countless men throughout her career.
Her memoir is raw, enlightening, an addictive read, and, sadly, relatable. While I may never begin to imagine the experiences she’s faced, her justifiable anger, frustration, and internal battles she grapples with is something that is all too familiar.
I am so proud of her for sharing her experiences with us, for setting the record straight, for speaking out, for shining a light on the darker side of the modeling industry and Hollywood in general.
I’m excited to see what else she writes next.
November 10, 2021
“My Body” will leave you feeling as dissatisfied as the author herself does with her own ideology and feelings.
This book was advertised as being unflinchingly open and honest which is an attractive selling point, especially when it's about someone whose public image centres around being perfect. However, for the most part, her written thoughts and feelings feel just as contrived as her Instagram feed which is a real let down. Specifically, whether she's aware of it or not, she leans heavily into the 'not like other girls' trope on a few occasions in a way that feels gratuitous and seems to take cheap shots at other women. Specific examples of this: The author seems very judgemental of other women who don't subscribe to her vision of what I can only call 'capitalist-feminism' which feels like a very out-of-touch take for someone seemingly so progressive.
I will say that there were some moments of clarity and honesty in the book which were interesting but did not feel like fully formed thoughts. Emily reflects a lot on her relationship with her mother, and the value placed on beauty in her family. She also repeatedly holds her hands up to the fact that she is still trying to work out what she thinks, feels and means when it comes to body politics.
She also makes an impassioned plea for more nuance in these discussions and laments being quoted out of context which is a prophecy that's fulfilled itself repeatedly in the news cycle concerning her book. These were the best bits of the book. It's unfortunate that the rest of the book became more navel-gazey and self-indulgent.
It is a true shame that the big media outlets have been giving this book rave reviews; was the bar they held for her so low that they’re impressed with this offering? This almost proves the author’s point that she is always underestimated when it comes to intellect.
Overall, if you are expecting an insightful and well-researched dive into feminism and the author's psychological development within that, you will be disappointed. The author takes us on the start of that journey but she never quite reaches her destination. She is not yet fully formed in her ideas but that’s OK. This is a first attempt by someone who is not a writer by trader and on that front, it's a pretty good effort. I look forward to hearing more from Emily as she continues to grow.
Also - I've seen a lot of comments about this being ghost-written. I believe she did write this. It's very much the work of someone honing the craft, and as already stated, it is a good attempt.
This book was advertised as being unflinchingly open and honest which is an attractive selling point, especially when it's about someone whose public image centres around being perfect. However, for the most part, her written thoughts and feelings feel just as contrived as her Instagram feed which is a real let down. Specifically, whether she's aware of it or not, she leans heavily into the 'not like other girls' trope on a few occasions in a way that feels gratuitous and seems to take cheap shots at other women. Specific examples of this: The author seems very judgemental of other women who don't subscribe to her vision of what I can only call 'capitalist-feminism' which feels like a very out-of-touch take for someone seemingly so progressive.
I will say that there were some moments of clarity and honesty in the book which were interesting but did not feel like fully formed thoughts. Emily reflects a lot on her relationship with her mother, and the value placed on beauty in her family. She also repeatedly holds her hands up to the fact that she is still trying to work out what she thinks, feels and means when it comes to body politics.
She also makes an impassioned plea for more nuance in these discussions and laments being quoted out of context which is a prophecy that's fulfilled itself repeatedly in the news cycle concerning her book. These were the best bits of the book. It's unfortunate that the rest of the book became more navel-gazey and self-indulgent.
It is a true shame that the big media outlets have been giving this book rave reviews; was the bar they held for her so low that they’re impressed with this offering? This almost proves the author’s point that she is always underestimated when it comes to intellect.
Overall, if you are expecting an insightful and well-researched dive into feminism and the author's psychological development within that, you will be disappointed. The author takes us on the start of that journey but she never quite reaches her destination. She is not yet fully formed in her ideas but that’s OK. This is a first attempt by someone who is not a writer by trader and on that front, it's a pretty good effort. I look forward to hearing more from Emily as she continues to grow.
Also - I've seen a lot of comments about this being ghost-written. I believe she did write this. It's very much the work of someone honing the craft, and as already stated, it is a good attempt.
February 22, 2024
“my body” is collection of essays written by emily ratajkowski as she explores feminism, power, misogyny and the toxicity of the modelling industry. she does not present direct answers, but more so she records her observations and poses thoughtful questions. throughout the work, she argues that whilst she has always believed modelling to be a statement of her feminism and an act of empowerment, it never truly made her feel empowered or satisfied. it also grapples with the extent of male domination that manifests in most aspects of our society, which opened my eyes to how much is done in our world for the pleasure of men- often unconsciously or unwillingly.
first of all, emily is a brilliant writer. the way in which she can describe human emotion is so precise and she articulates her thoughts and opinions beautifully. she is such an intelligent, well spoken woman that i’ve grown a real fondness and respect for. i love how she didn't refrain from including the full names of those who had wronged her in the past- it was inspiring to witness her take back the power she had lost.
“i will proclaim all of my mistakes and contradictions, for all the women who cannot do so, for all the women we've called muses without learning their names, whose silence we mistook for consent.”
even though the majority of content within these essays surrounded topics i couldn’t directly relate to, i found myself surprised by how much it impacted me. it comes down to the vulnerability ratajkowski shows throughout its entire course, & how honestly she writes and connects to the reader, making this not only an emotional read but also an insightful one.
“beauty was a way for me to be special. when i was special, i felt my parents' love for me the most.”
overall, this book was a truly informative, powerful read. emily’s perspective was so compelling and i enjoyed how it encouraged me to further think about issues i hadn’t before. each essay is such a powerful conversation starter in itself. this is one of those books that has had a profound impact on me and i can honestly say that it has changed the way i view things in my everyday life- the highest praise you can give literature in my opinion.
favourite essays: men like you, blurred lines & the woozies.
first of all, emily is a brilliant writer. the way in which she can describe human emotion is so precise and she articulates her thoughts and opinions beautifully. she is such an intelligent, well spoken woman that i’ve grown a real fondness and respect for. i love how she didn't refrain from including the full names of those who had wronged her in the past- it was inspiring to witness her take back the power she had lost.
“i will proclaim all of my mistakes and contradictions, for all the women who cannot do so, for all the women we've called muses without learning their names, whose silence we mistook for consent.”
even though the majority of content within these essays surrounded topics i couldn’t directly relate to, i found myself surprised by how much it impacted me. it comes down to the vulnerability ratajkowski shows throughout its entire course, & how honestly she writes and connects to the reader, making this not only an emotional read but also an insightful one.
“beauty was a way for me to be special. when i was special, i felt my parents' love for me the most.”
overall, this book was a truly informative, powerful read. emily’s perspective was so compelling and i enjoyed how it encouraged me to further think about issues i hadn’t before. each essay is such a powerful conversation starter in itself. this is one of those books that has had a profound impact on me and i can honestly say that it has changed the way i view things in my everyday life- the highest praise you can give literature in my opinion.
favourite essays: men like you, blurred lines & the woozies.
January 16, 2025
EDIT, YEARS LATER: just noticed that emily follows anna khachiyan and dasha on instagram lol. how does that align with her politics and all? that says all i need to know.
nice cover & an easy read in the sense that it felt as if you're conversing with her with an easygoing gossipy feel to it. but the gossipy vibes seemed b*tchy & judgemental at times when she’d talk about other women (e.g. miranda kerr, or a high school friend).
she has said that she wants the book to create discussions around feminism etc & to some extent it is clear that she makes an effort to be relatable. still, this is a wealthy cis-hetero white woman with archetypical ‘perfect’ eurocentric features. the discussions I've seen this book generate are still very much centred around her, herself.
when she gets annoyed bc her husband calls her out on being complicit & a capitalist & she refuses to accept it gave me the ick. sometimes it was clear she recognises her hypocrisy, & other times (like this example) it seemed she was out of touch with reality. yet ultimately she tends to perpetuate the cycle she’s stuck in bc it still benefits her, mostly financially & in terms of public validation. she’s like, my hypocrisy & contradictions give me a headache. yeah girl you gave me a headache too.
it was almost as if she’s trying very hard to prove something about herself & that was quite off-putting. you get to the end & it’s like “okay, shes shown some self-reflection, so what now? if she can’t straight up offer us any solutions, how could we get closer to possibly answering these ‘questions’ she’s raised then?”
sophie gilbert’s review on the atlantic encapsulates my thoughts towards this book
EDITED: changing to 1 star bc this woman is acting like she’s braver than the marines for posting her abs… idk man she just seems v tone deaf
nice cover & an easy read in the sense that it felt as if you're conversing with her with an easygoing gossipy feel to it. but the gossipy vibes seemed b*tchy & judgemental at times when she’d talk about other women (e.g. miranda kerr, or a high school friend).
she has said that she wants the book to create discussions around feminism etc & to some extent it is clear that she makes an effort to be relatable. still, this is a wealthy cis-hetero white woman with archetypical ‘perfect’ eurocentric features. the discussions I've seen this book generate are still very much centred around her, herself.
when she gets annoyed bc her husband calls her out on being complicit & a capitalist & she refuses to accept it gave me the ick. sometimes it was clear she recognises her hypocrisy, & other times (like this example) it seemed she was out of touch with reality. yet ultimately she tends to perpetuate the cycle she’s stuck in bc it still benefits her, mostly financially & in terms of public validation. she’s like, my hypocrisy & contradictions give me a headache. yeah girl you gave me a headache too.
it was almost as if she’s trying very hard to prove something about herself & that was quite off-putting. you get to the end & it’s like “okay, shes shown some self-reflection, so what now? if she can’t straight up offer us any solutions, how could we get closer to possibly answering these ‘questions’ she’s raised then?”
sophie gilbert’s review on the atlantic encapsulates my thoughts towards this book
EDITED: changing to 1 star bc this woman is acting like she’s braver than the marines for posting her abs… idk man she just seems v tone deaf
January 27, 2022
There’s no denying Emily’s aptitude for writing - these essays are shrewd and sharp and written with keen observation. Framed as a memoir, this book is excellent but as activism? Not so much.
Ratajkowski is brave — a survivor of sexual violence, navigating her way through a capitalist system and trying to control the commodification of her body as a young woman. The essays explore how her image has been stolen, her body as a model likened to a mannequin, to predatory photographers, horny billionaires, and sleazy musicians. The writing of these essays is an attempt to control her narrative. She touches astutely on the male gaze but fails to recognise her actions (commodifying her own body?) and it’s consequences on other women. The only time she recognises other women is when she ranks herself among them and, through her mothers eyes especially, compares herself. This is a completely normal experience but to have this book marketed as empowering for all women is unrealistic. She never questions her participation in the industry — upholding eurocentric beauty standards. She never seems to realise her impact on young adolescents. She even says she only started modelling for the money. And perhaps that’s just because she’s never had to think about these larger consequences. But this feels like a major myopic downfall.
Maybe Emily doesn’t have to dismantle beauty standards, disrupt the industry, or start a communist revolution but her solipsistic take feels like we haven’t quite reached the destination promised by the premise of this book.
Whatever influence and status I’ve gained were only granted to me because I appealed to men. My position brought me in close proximity to wealth and power and brought me some autonomy, but it hasn’t resulted in true empowerment.
Beauty was a way for me to be special. When I was special, I felt my parents’ love for me the most.
How had I already been introduced to the concept of competition between women before I had even learned to read?
I’ve become more familiar with seeing myself through the paparazzi’s lenses than I am with looking at myself in the mirror.
I want to calculate my beauty to protect myself, to understand exactly how much power and lovability I have.
Ratajkowski is brave — a survivor of sexual violence, navigating her way through a capitalist system and trying to control the commodification of her body as a young woman. The essays explore how her image has been stolen, her body as a model likened to a mannequin, to predatory photographers, horny billionaires, and sleazy musicians. The writing of these essays is an attempt to control her narrative. She touches astutely on the male gaze but fails to recognise her actions (commodifying her own body?) and it’s consequences on other women. The only time she recognises other women is when she ranks herself among them and, through her mothers eyes especially, compares herself. This is a completely normal experience but to have this book marketed as empowering for all women is unrealistic. She never questions her participation in the industry — upholding eurocentric beauty standards. She never seems to realise her impact on young adolescents. She even says she only started modelling for the money. And perhaps that’s just because she’s never had to think about these larger consequences. But this feels like a major myopic downfall.
Maybe Emily doesn’t have to dismantle beauty standards, disrupt the industry, or start a communist revolution but her solipsistic take feels like we haven’t quite reached the destination promised by the premise of this book.
Whatever influence and status I’ve gained were only granted to me because I appealed to men. My position brought me in close proximity to wealth and power and brought me some autonomy, but it hasn’t resulted in true empowerment.
Beauty was a way for me to be special. When I was special, I felt my parents’ love for me the most.
How had I already been introduced to the concept of competition between women before I had even learned to read?
I’ve become more familiar with seeing myself through the paparazzi’s lenses than I am with looking at myself in the mirror.
I want to calculate my beauty to protect myself, to understand exactly how much power and lovability I have.
November 16, 2021
Emily Ratjakowski— a woman who practically became the poster child of objectification, has made (presumably) millions of dollars because of the male gaze, and allowed herself to be reduced to a sex object— now has a problem with the sexual objectification of women in the media.
Emily’s entire brand was built on being a sex object. And it will be a cold day in hell before this woman stops posting thirst traps on Instagram, or stops showing us her tits. Thus, it leads me to believe that Emily has had this enlightenment (and is now rebranding) because her commercial shelf life is nearing its end.
Emily is a living contradiction; profiting and willingly participating in the same misogynistic system that she’s complaining about. But to be honest, I wouldn’t expect anything less from a privileged white women suffering from main character syndrome.
Emily’s entire brand was built on being a sex object. And it will be a cold day in hell before this woman stops posting thirst traps on Instagram, or stops showing us her tits. Thus, it leads me to believe that Emily has had this enlightenment (and is now rebranding) because her commercial shelf life is nearing its end.
Emily is a living contradiction; profiting and willingly participating in the same misogynistic system that she’s complaining about. But to be honest, I wouldn’t expect anything less from a privileged white women suffering from main character syndrome.
December 19, 2021
The 2021 memoir, "My Body," a collection of nonfiction essays by Emily Ratajkowski, has received a lot of stellar reviews.
I thought the first 100 pages of this memoir were very strong. Ratajkowski is a very good writer, and her prose is excellent.
But the book never went anywhere. It just kept circling the drain of the author's internalized misogyny (but only one essay ever even names it as such), and detailing all of the choices the author made to make money in life, no matter what the consequences.
This book is no more insightful than watching the music video of Fergie's pop music hit, "Fergalicious." In fact, I'd recommend watching that music video over reading this book. Both women are saying the same exact thing. Ratajkowski is simply adding a note about how profitable it all is.
One thing that consistently aggravates me about Ratajkowski's writing and spoken interviews is how she conflates "sexuality" with "sexualization." These are two *very* different things. Ratajkowski never uses the term "sexualization." In her interviews and in her essays, Ratajkowski always states that she is making money "off her sexuality," when that isn't the case. She's making money from the objectified, sexualized image of her body. There's a big difference.
But the fact that Ratajkowski clearly doesn't understand that difference is one of the foundational flaws that runs through each of her essays.
I'm glad that there are readers who are thinking about societal misogyny in new ways, thanks to this book.
But holy moly, was this book not for me. "My Body" is some serious White Feminisim Girl Power, about as deep as a single-ply piece of toilet paper.
I DNF'd by page 182 (of 237 pages total). I skimmed sections of the remaining essays. I thought the last essay was the strongest, overall, but also the most problematic for me personally. A lot of women never learn how to appreciate their bodies *as* bodies until they have children, and Ratajkowski is no different: her last essay showcases how giving birth to her son opened her up to a new understanding and appreciation for her female body. I'm really glad for her. But I'm not gonna lie and say that I in any way needed this message. Because nope. I certainly didn't. I think society has hammered the "Womanhood is Motherhood" mantra into my head enough times that I've already gotten that memo, thanks.
I'm so disappointed that this book didn't go anywhere. It really had the potential to be excellent. But for all of the sharp, beautiful prose, Ratajkowski has no deep reflections to share. Just more confusion and painful personal anecdotes about the harm done to herself, both in her personal life and in the modeling industry.
Ratajkowski never uses the word "exploitation" in this book, or in the interviews I've heard her give. Like the word "sexualization," I wonder if the word even exists in her lexicon. I seriously doubt it.
The word "solidarity" definitely doesn't appear in this book. And forget the idea of intersectional feminism; folx, this ain't it.
I'd give the first 100 pages of this book five stars. But only one star to the rest.
Two stars, overall. Not for me.
I thought the first 100 pages of this memoir were very strong. Ratajkowski is a very good writer, and her prose is excellent.
But the book never went anywhere. It just kept circling the drain of the author's internalized misogyny (but only one essay ever even names it as such), and detailing all of the choices the author made to make money in life, no matter what the consequences.
This book is no more insightful than watching the music video of Fergie's pop music hit, "Fergalicious." In fact, I'd recommend watching that music video over reading this book. Both women are saying the same exact thing. Ratajkowski is simply adding a note about how profitable it all is.
One thing that consistently aggravates me about Ratajkowski's writing and spoken interviews is how she conflates "sexuality" with "sexualization." These are two *very* different things. Ratajkowski never uses the term "sexualization." In her interviews and in her essays, Ratajkowski always states that she is making money "off her sexuality," when that isn't the case. She's making money from the objectified, sexualized image of her body. There's a big difference.
But the fact that Ratajkowski clearly doesn't understand that difference is one of the foundational flaws that runs through each of her essays.
I'm glad that there are readers who are thinking about societal misogyny in new ways, thanks to this book.
But holy moly, was this book not for me. "My Body" is some serious White Feminisim Girl Power, about as deep as a single-ply piece of toilet paper.
I DNF'd by page 182 (of 237 pages total). I skimmed sections of the remaining essays. I thought the last essay was the strongest, overall, but also the most problematic for me personally. A lot of women never learn how to appreciate their bodies *as* bodies until they have children, and Ratajkowski is no different: her last essay showcases how giving birth to her son opened her up to a new understanding and appreciation for her female body. I'm really glad for her. But I'm not gonna lie and say that I in any way needed this message. Because nope. I certainly didn't. I think society has hammered the "Womanhood is Motherhood" mantra into my head enough times that I've already gotten that memo, thanks.
I'm so disappointed that this book didn't go anywhere. It really had the potential to be excellent. But for all of the sharp, beautiful prose, Ratajkowski has no deep reflections to share. Just more confusion and painful personal anecdotes about the harm done to herself, both in her personal life and in the modeling industry.
Ratajkowski never uses the word "exploitation" in this book, or in the interviews I've heard her give. Like the word "sexualization," I wonder if the word even exists in her lexicon. I seriously doubt it.
The word "solidarity" definitely doesn't appear in this book. And forget the idea of intersectional feminism; folx, this ain't it.
I'd give the first 100 pages of this book five stars. But only one star to the rest.
Two stars, overall. Not for me.
May 12, 2023
The fact that Ratajkowski has gotten so much backlash over a book about female physicality shows that appearances are still political: While the right finds her too sexually provocative, the left criticizes her for being a pretty girl uttering grievances. Like it or not, though: With this essay collection, Ratajkowski proves that she is not only smart, she is also a good writer. The collection encompasses texts about how her upbringing has shaped her own perception of herself, how she tries to navigate being a feminist while earning money with her beauty, and the abuse - physical and mental - she has suffered over the years from men taking advantage of her body, directly or via representation in images.
It is very easy to now say: Wait, but she makes millions while dancing naked in a music video that turns rape culture into a joke ("Blurred Lines"), and it's true - but that attitude is a little too convenient. How many of us have danced to the song? How many women play along in a male-dominated business world to get ahead? How many of us sell our physical bodies and well-being in manual and/or repetitive labor? How many women obsess over their appearance, because it matters? This is where these essays get interesting. And Ratajkowski talks openly about objectification, rape, revenge porn, abuse and exploitation in the entertainment industry, accusing photographer Jonathan Leder of assault and Miranda Kerr of being a pick-me-girl in a world where these girls are the ones who survive.
This is a very personal book, almost a memoir in essay form, in which the author nonchalantly refrains from painting herself in a particularly good light - it's candid and layered, which makes the texts so intriguing.
It is very easy to now say: Wait, but she makes millions while dancing naked in a music video that turns rape culture into a joke ("Blurred Lines"), and it's true - but that attitude is a little too convenient. How many of us have danced to the song? How many women play along in a male-dominated business world to get ahead? How many of us sell our physical bodies and well-being in manual and/or repetitive labor? How many women obsess over their appearance, because it matters? This is where these essays get interesting. And Ratajkowski talks openly about objectification, rape, revenge porn, abuse and exploitation in the entertainment industry, accusing photographer Jonathan Leder of assault and Miranda Kerr of being a pick-me-girl in a world where these girls are the ones who survive.
This is a very personal book, almost a memoir in essay form, in which the author nonchalantly refrains from painting herself in a particularly good light - it's candid and layered, which makes the texts so intriguing.
January 5, 2022
"I so desperately craved men's validation that I accepted it even when it came wrapped in disrespect. I was those girls in that room, waiting, trading my body and measuring my self-worth in a value system that revolves around men and their desire."
Emily's writing/storytelling is vulnerable, raw, and thought provoking.
Emily's writing/storytelling is vulnerable, raw, and thought provoking.
May 20, 2025
3.5 stars
This book had been on my radar, though I finally picked it up because I saw Emily Ratajkowski (rightfully) criticize the all-women SpaceX space flight, lol. Anyway, I found this memoir readable and interesting. Lots of writing about Ratajkowski’s attempts to use her body to make a living and name for herself in a capitalist system; I appreciated her vulnerability about the sexual assaults and harassment she’s faced. It was intriguing to read about body image from the perspective of a model. I liked that Ratajkowski was honest about how her mindset has changed with distance, reflection, and growth, such as how she has shifted from describing her involvement in the Robin Thicke “Blurred Lines” video from empowering to more nuanced and oppressive.
I do wish Ratajkowski had been a bit more reflective or had gone deeper on some of her points. She’s self-aware about how thinness is glamorized for women in a patriarchal society and she very slightly touches on whiteness, but it’s odd because she doesn’t really interrogate thinness or whiteness in a more pronounced way. Some may say that it’s not her responsibility to do so, though I’d argue that given that she is a wealthy, famous thin white woman, she could have done more to actively call for dismantling fatphobic and racist systems (the ones that helped her get to where she’s at, even if at a cost).
This book had been on my radar, though I finally picked it up because I saw Emily Ratajkowski (rightfully) criticize the all-women SpaceX space flight, lol. Anyway, I found this memoir readable and interesting. Lots of writing about Ratajkowski’s attempts to use her body to make a living and name for herself in a capitalist system; I appreciated her vulnerability about the sexual assaults and harassment she’s faced. It was intriguing to read about body image from the perspective of a model. I liked that Ratajkowski was honest about how her mindset has changed with distance, reflection, and growth, such as how she has shifted from describing her involvement in the Robin Thicke “Blurred Lines” video from empowering to more nuanced and oppressive.
I do wish Ratajkowski had been a bit more reflective or had gone deeper on some of her points. She’s self-aware about how thinness is glamorized for women in a patriarchal society and she very slightly touches on whiteness, but it’s odd because she doesn’t really interrogate thinness or whiteness in a more pronounced way. Some may say that it’s not her responsibility to do so, though I’d argue that given that she is a wealthy, famous thin white woman, she could have done more to actively call for dismantling fatphobic and racist systems (the ones that helped her get to where she’s at, even if at a cost).
October 25, 2021
I flewww through these essays. She really is a shrewd writer and thinker. Maybe from another person parts of this book could have seemed navel-gazing but for someone whose navel is gazed at by millions it feels fair and very interesting to spend so many pages reflecting on appearance-related issues. And honestly I appreciate that she can write about complicated feelings and insecurities without pretending that she doesn’t look the way she does (or pretending she doesn’t see what everyone else sees). She knows she’s stunning AND she likes it AND she uses it AND she feels weird about it sometimes and wonders what it means to use it. And sometimes she wants to be looked at and sometimes she wants to be invisible like we all do.
We also have the EXACT SAME recurring dreams which was kind of freaky and validating (?) to read. I will definitely read her future books. I hope she writes another book on bodies and beauty in 20-30 years. I’ll be so curious to hear her reflections on later stages of womanhood, partly so she can help illuminate what I might also be thinking.
(I won a galley in a goodreads giveaway which is why this is longer than a sentence. My first win!)
We also have the EXACT SAME recurring dreams which was kind of freaky and validating (?) to read. I will definitely read her future books. I hope she writes another book on bodies and beauty in 20-30 years. I’ll be so curious to hear her reflections on later stages of womanhood, partly so she can help illuminate what I might also be thinking.
(I won a galley in a goodreads giveaway which is why this is longer than a sentence. My first win!)
January 15, 2022
Let me start by telling you what everyone wants to know: Emily Ratajkowski can write and it's not her first time doing so either. She's clearly been writing. Now that we've ascertained that this is not your run of the mill influencer memoir, we can proceed.
To put it briefly, I liked it and I think it's a book worth reading. Ratajkowski is brutally honest, genuine, and sufficiently self-aware to pull this one off. She certainly doesn't hold back and she doesn't hide behind a finger. She's also not scared to repeatedly question herself and go to some very uncomfortable, ugly places. It almost seems like she draws strength from being vulnerable, which is very endearing and empowering to read; she's not asking for pity or for understanding because she doesn't need either. The reason why she writes (as she stated in the introduction) is to understand, to make sense of her relationship with her body.
"My Body" is a collection of very self-reflective, intimate, personal essays. You can tell that she's written each and every one of them for herself and herself only. I could also tell that she had little to no ambition to sell it as something bigger than what it is, so I don't know why some people got into it expecting some new groundbreaking perspective on intersectional feminist theory. She's not here to teach us or explain anything. She's here to explore, to navigate her own story in search of answers. If anything, she's the one trying to learn something here.
Don't pick this up if you're looking for some intellectually and culturally critical dissection of feminism because you won't find it here. There's plenty to read on the subject written by much more experienced and authoritative figures (may I recommend bell hooks? Lola Olufemi? Angela Davis? Mikki Kendall?). To all the people that I've seen complaining about how narrow, specific, and limited the scope of this book is: OF COURSE, IT IS. It's her experience, it's her thoughts, it's her body. She's not an anthropologist, a philosopher, or a feminist scholar. She's just a woman who wants to get to know herself better. I don't know why y'all started holding her to such high standards. Of course, the whole thing is flawed and doesn’t cater to people universally, it’s not supposed to and she never promised to. Stop trying to slap ambitious purposes on it only to complain that it doesn't live up to those intentions. There was no intention. Take it for what it is: the journey of a woman in the exploration of her body in a capitalistic economic system.
To put it briefly, I liked it and I think it's a book worth reading. Ratajkowski is brutally honest, genuine, and sufficiently self-aware to pull this one off. She certainly doesn't hold back and she doesn't hide behind a finger. She's also not scared to repeatedly question herself and go to some very uncomfortable, ugly places. It almost seems like she draws strength from being vulnerable, which is very endearing and empowering to read; she's not asking for pity or for understanding because she doesn't need either. The reason why she writes (as she stated in the introduction) is to understand, to make sense of her relationship with her body.
"My Body" is a collection of very self-reflective, intimate, personal essays. You can tell that she's written each and every one of them for herself and herself only. I could also tell that she had little to no ambition to sell it as something bigger than what it is, so I don't know why some people got into it expecting some new groundbreaking perspective on intersectional feminist theory. She's not here to teach us or explain anything. She's here to explore, to navigate her own story in search of answers. If anything, she's the one trying to learn something here.
Don't pick this up if you're looking for some intellectually and culturally critical dissection of feminism because you won't find it here. There's plenty to read on the subject written by much more experienced and authoritative figures (may I recommend bell hooks? Lola Olufemi? Angela Davis? Mikki Kendall?). To all the people that I've seen complaining about how narrow, specific, and limited the scope of this book is: OF COURSE, IT IS. It's her experience, it's her thoughts, it's her body. She's not an anthropologist, a philosopher, or a feminist scholar. She's just a woman who wants to get to know herself better. I don't know why y'all started holding her to such high standards. Of course, the whole thing is flawed and doesn’t cater to people universally, it’s not supposed to and she never promised to. Stop trying to slap ambitious purposes on it only to complain that it doesn't live up to those intentions. There was no intention. Take it for what it is: the journey of a woman in the exploration of her body in a capitalistic economic system.
September 27, 2021
The early sampler (advance reader copy) of Emily Ratajkowski’s essay collection, My Body, forthcoming from Metropolitan in November 2021, promises the literary form of the same commodified exhibitionism the author describes in her experience as a ‘mannequin,’ a model. But we get something better, sexier. We get humility and intelligence, a keenly observant, writerly mind.
Using the French word for ‘model’—mannequin—to describe herself, Ratajkowski means to invoke the pejorative, seeing herself in the role as an empty, plastic, woman-shaped hanger. She knows it’s a role, but, hey, going naked, especially in her body, sells. There’s a sense in her writing that, now that everyone who wants to has already seen her totally nude, she’s trying to figure out what’s left to take off. She seems to believe that writing confessional, nonfiction narrative requires a humiliating baring, much like modeling has demanded of her, so she strips herself to the bone. She’s not wrong. What we find in this public display isn’t vapidity or an integrity too damaged to manage coherence. What we find is humanity, depth. Laudably, Emily Ratajkowski is more captivating as text than as sex—not that she isn’t selling the latter, too. From time to time, she mistakes her humility and intellect for a debilitating insecurity and flagellates herself for their existence. Yet, her keen observations, her sensitivity, reveal the development of a raw, rare wisdom that more commonly arrives much later in life.
While her unabashed capitalism is admirable, I wouldn’t recommend embodying her brand of it. Her determination for financial success shows a smart, wry, brave young woman, who willingly, even eagerly, endures work as a model. She’s fetishized, abused, assaulted and demoralized, which tarnishes the deal, devalues the money, but she survives. She gets through it all by consciously entering dissociative states resembling techniques for surviving prison life, which, yeah, mars the dream. Her claim that she does it for the cash isn’t new and it’s only empowering if we recognize that every industry comes with risks. Most industries, however, don’t require posing topless with barn animals while dancing too close to wasted, male pop stars who have grabby hands. But we’ve long since sung the praises of uber-hot chicks with agency who capitalize on their Holy Shit looks. The controversy around the 2013 music video, “Blurred Lines” (Robin Thicke, T.I. and Pharrell Williams), criticized for perpetuating misogyny, both brought Emily Ratajkowski’s name to the fore and contributed to a necessary discussion of women’s own use of their bodies for gain. She cut her teeth with that video. The uproar both defined her in a way she finds unfortunate, but which, too, she recognizes as her golden ticket.
My Body is a hotter, healthier ticket, both for its author and for the girls and women who are mesmerized by the sirens of skin, skinniness and sex as their path to power. What’s delightful and unique about these few, racy pages is watching Ratajkowski move through the world with the awkward grace of a shockingly beautiful, exotic baby-bird who’s convinced herself that walking in stiletto heels through midday Manhattan in a pair of black tights too sheer for the sun is going to turn into a win-win kind of day. Her vulnerability and ridiculousness are stunning and exist on the same page with her equally notable Amazonian strength and learned pragmatism. There’s an acerbic wit holding back that I hope to see more of when the full book publishes this fall. Her ferocity on the page thus far, summons the image of a dangerously underweight, dark-haired Plath-lite teetering from the Barbizon Hotel to Mademoiselle’s offices on her fateful first day as guest editor there— wearing nothing but transparent-plastic hot pants. I want to see more of Ratajkowski—in text.
Using the French word for ‘model’—mannequin—to describe herself, Ratajkowski means to invoke the pejorative, seeing herself in the role as an empty, plastic, woman-shaped hanger. She knows it’s a role, but, hey, going naked, especially in her body, sells. There’s a sense in her writing that, now that everyone who wants to has already seen her totally nude, she’s trying to figure out what’s left to take off. She seems to believe that writing confessional, nonfiction narrative requires a humiliating baring, much like modeling has demanded of her, so she strips herself to the bone. She’s not wrong. What we find in this public display isn’t vapidity or an integrity too damaged to manage coherence. What we find is humanity, depth. Laudably, Emily Ratajkowski is more captivating as text than as sex—not that she isn’t selling the latter, too. From time to time, she mistakes her humility and intellect for a debilitating insecurity and flagellates herself for their existence. Yet, her keen observations, her sensitivity, reveal the development of a raw, rare wisdom that more commonly arrives much later in life.
While her unabashed capitalism is admirable, I wouldn’t recommend embodying her brand of it. Her determination for financial success shows a smart, wry, brave young woman, who willingly, even eagerly, endures work as a model. She’s fetishized, abused, assaulted and demoralized, which tarnishes the deal, devalues the money, but she survives. She gets through it all by consciously entering dissociative states resembling techniques for surviving prison life, which, yeah, mars the dream. Her claim that she does it for the cash isn’t new and it’s only empowering if we recognize that every industry comes with risks. Most industries, however, don’t require posing topless with barn animals while dancing too close to wasted, male pop stars who have grabby hands. But we’ve long since sung the praises of uber-hot chicks with agency who capitalize on their Holy Shit looks. The controversy around the 2013 music video, “Blurred Lines” (Robin Thicke, T.I. and Pharrell Williams), criticized for perpetuating misogyny, both brought Emily Ratajkowski’s name to the fore and contributed to a necessary discussion of women’s own use of their bodies for gain. She cut her teeth with that video. The uproar both defined her in a way she finds unfortunate, but which, too, she recognizes as her golden ticket.
My Body is a hotter, healthier ticket, both for its author and for the girls and women who are mesmerized by the sirens of skin, skinniness and sex as their path to power. What’s delightful and unique about these few, racy pages is watching Ratajkowski move through the world with the awkward grace of a shockingly beautiful, exotic baby-bird who’s convinced herself that walking in stiletto heels through midday Manhattan in a pair of black tights too sheer for the sun is going to turn into a win-win kind of day. Her vulnerability and ridiculousness are stunning and exist on the same page with her equally notable Amazonian strength and learned pragmatism. There’s an acerbic wit holding back that I hope to see more of when the full book publishes this fall. Her ferocity on the page thus far, summons the image of a dangerously underweight, dark-haired Plath-lite teetering from the Barbizon Hotel to Mademoiselle’s offices on her fateful first day as guest editor there— wearing nothing but transparent-plastic hot pants. I want to see more of Ratajkowski—in text.
January 26, 2022
i dont trust people that invalidate this book just because she's a celebrity and/or pretty. (rtc)
March 20, 2022
How should I roast this book without coming off as a hater or women hating bigot?
This book essentially was about Emily knowing that sex sells, but once in a while she has a problem that the same thing that brings her money also becomes a tool for other people.
Like that one time that a guy was a creep and she wasn’t responding to his messages, until he was giving away tickets to Coachella and since the tickets were EXPENSIVE, she wrote back to the so-called creep. I am sorry but what does it say about her morals?
Or that one time she was paid to go to Super bowl, 25,000$, with a billionaire and she was ✨exhausted✨.
Please God give me patience….
Never read a book more vain and useless. Listen show your ass as much as you want, commodify the shit out of your body, but then don’t be surprised that people would look at you as a sex object….not justifying Robin Thicke groping her breasts without consent, or anyone touching her without her wanting it. She has all the right to be upset about it and no one should touch you if you are butt naked. That’s a whole another story.
Don’t spit on the industry that you benefit from. Never read a book that is so heavily about looks. This book was definitely not for me.
This book essentially was about Emily knowing that sex sells, but once in a while she has a problem that the same thing that brings her money also becomes a tool for other people.
Like that one time that a guy was a creep and she wasn’t responding to his messages, until he was giving away tickets to Coachella and since the tickets were EXPENSIVE, she wrote back to the so-called creep. I am sorry but what does it say about her morals?
Or that one time she was paid to go to Super bowl, 25,000$, with a billionaire and she was ✨exhausted✨.
Please God give me patience….
Never read a book more vain and useless. Listen show your ass as much as you want, commodify the shit out of your body, but then don’t be surprised that people would look at you as a sex object….not justifying Robin Thicke groping her breasts without consent, or anyone touching her without her wanting it. She has all the right to be upset about it and no one should touch you if you are butt naked. That’s a whole another story.
Don’t spit on the industry that you benefit from. Never read a book that is so heavily about looks. This book was definitely not for me.
March 4, 2022
well. that was phenomenal. i really didn't anticipate this book to work as well for me as it did, simply because i barely ever read non-fiction/memoirs. that's also why i didn't have many expectations going into it.
before picking this up, i came across both positive and negative reviews. i wasn't familiar with emily ratajkowski prior to learning about this book so i gathered most of my information on her career and person through said reviews. initially, i was scared that the book would be too preachy and perpetuate a forced sense of wokeness as it is so popular online. the way many people talk about emrata's past led me to believe that she was going to use her book to praise the idea of choice feminism to the heavens without any reflection on its consequences. i fear that those people did not get the point of what my body actually is.
my body is a thoughtful, nuanced, and deeply honest exploration of the female reality. the fact that emily is a successful, beautiful, and certainly very privileged young woman does not give anyone the right to discredit her own experiences with her body. what many readers found to be 'hypocritical' in this book i thought was brutally honest and realistic. never did i feel like emily tried to push certain ideas and messages onto the reader; i appreciated the way in which she kept asking complex, nuanced questions without actually telling the reader what to make of them. i scribbled lots of thoughts (and even more questions) in the margins and i'm sure emily's essays will linger in my mind for a long time because of her ability to introduce incredibly complex topics in such a subtle, compelling way.
i believe that, although emily's story is specifically focused on her life as a model and actor, every woman will be able to relate to her experiences in some way. i certainly did. she explored the fine, overlapping lines between female empowerment and the reinforcement of male-dominated power structures in a thoughtful and very self-aware way which i loved.
many reviews i've read critique the lack of depth in her exploration of feminism and capitalism. i don't think i agree with that. this is not a feminist manifesto but a personal, vulnerable collection of essays chronicling intimate experiences which prompt you to reflect on your own life as well as the current state of our society. my body does not do the thinking for you, but it shows you where to start.
i truly cannot recommend this enough and i can't wait to read anything and everything emrata publishes in the future.
before picking this up, i came across both positive and negative reviews. i wasn't familiar with emily ratajkowski prior to learning about this book so i gathered most of my information on her career and person through said reviews. initially, i was scared that the book would be too preachy and perpetuate a forced sense of wokeness as it is so popular online. the way many people talk about emrata's past led me to believe that she was going to use her book to praise the idea of choice feminism to the heavens without any reflection on its consequences. i fear that those people did not get the point of what my body actually is.
my body is a thoughtful, nuanced, and deeply honest exploration of the female reality. the fact that emily is a successful, beautiful, and certainly very privileged young woman does not give anyone the right to discredit her own experiences with her body. what many readers found to be 'hypocritical' in this book i thought was brutally honest and realistic. never did i feel like emily tried to push certain ideas and messages onto the reader; i appreciated the way in which she kept asking complex, nuanced questions without actually telling the reader what to make of them. i scribbled lots of thoughts (and even more questions) in the margins and i'm sure emily's essays will linger in my mind for a long time because of her ability to introduce incredibly complex topics in such a subtle, compelling way.
i believe that, although emily's story is specifically focused on her life as a model and actor, every woman will be able to relate to her experiences in some way. i certainly did. she explored the fine, overlapping lines between female empowerment and the reinforcement of male-dominated power structures in a thoughtful and very self-aware way which i loved.
many reviews i've read critique the lack of depth in her exploration of feminism and capitalism. i don't think i agree with that. this is not a feminist manifesto but a personal, vulnerable collection of essays chronicling intimate experiences which prompt you to reflect on your own life as well as the current state of our society. my body does not do the thinking for you, but it shows you where to start.
i truly cannot recommend this enough and i can't wait to read anything and everything emrata publishes in the future.
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