When I was 15, I noticed a mark on my leg. It looked like a
very small strange bruise, but it didn’t hurt when I touched it, and it didn’t
look like a bruise when I really examined it. I asked my mom what it was.
“It’s a spider vein,” she said. “They’re normal. Look, I
have some.”
I briefly wondered about it – it was 1996, so Google wasn’t
really a thing – I wondered why it was called a spider vein, when clearly it
was a capillary (presumably because spider capillary is incredibly awkward to
say). I wondered if all the capillaries in my body looked like that, kind of
just a tangle. I had always pictured them branching like a tree. That’s what
the anatomy text books show. (I now know that your veins and arteries do branch
like a tree, like you see in books, but a lot of your capillaries pretty much
are just a disorganized snarl like that).
Then, for 17 years, I didn’t think of it at all.
Today I found out it’s ugly.
I know a lot of ways my body is unacceptable. Billboards,
magazines, commercials, TV, movies, even kids’ toys tell me all the ways my
body isn’t right. It’s too big in places, too small in others. To wobbly and soft. Too much hair in
the wrong places. Not girlie enough - or is it too girlie? I never realized
my spider vein was problematic.
I know it is, because of a commercial I heard on the
radio. Three times, Tracy on Q100
used the word ugly to describe spider veins. Thankfully, I can pay my hard earned money to go to a doctor
who will make my leg acceptable. I don’t remember which Atlanta Medical spa the
commercial was for, and I’m glad. They don’t deserve a place in my mind.
So this is what I want to say to you, Tracey:
When you talk about ugly spider veins, you’re not just
sending your words out into the ether. You’re reaching real people. Real women, who are told every day that
their bodies are a commodity, and how to make them pleasing. You’re speaking to
15 year old girls who just noticed they have a spider vein and don’t really
have an opinion about it yet. You’re reaching me – a 32 year old woman who
basically likes her legs (they get me where I need to go) and letting me know
that I need to add one more thing to my list of things I think people judge me
for. You’re reaching an octogenarian whose legs have walked her all over the
country and danced to a thousand different songs, and telling her that’s not as
important as how they look. Next time you record that commercial, please know
you’re telling individual specific women that something about them is ugly.
And that surprised me coming from Q100. They’ve always
seemed pretty female-friendly. Last week on the Bert show they were talking
about how beautiful women are without makeup. I liked hearing that.
I know without sponsors, you can’t run a radio station. I get that. I would love it if you
dropped this sponsor. They make their money by making women feel like they’re
not good enough – basically they fabricate problems so they can get paid to fix
them.
If it’s not possible to drop that sponsor, I’d like to ask
you to re-do the commercial with more neutral language. What about, instead of insulting the
women listening, you say that spider vein laser treatment is a service this spa
offers, and then talk about how great the spa is, rather than how awful spider
veins are? Surely the spa has something going for it that you could highlight –
maybe it’s really clean or gets great ratings on Yelp or something. I know
creating insecurity in a commercial is probably a more effective sales
technique, but as an Atlanta celebrity, you reach a lot of people, and I am
asking you to use your platform to put good out into the world, instead of
negativity. Don’t add your voice to all the other voices telling women what
they need to change.
Thanks for taking the time to read this.
