I was recently looking forward to a low-key night at a friend’s kickback where I thought I’d decompress by drinking an entire bottle of wine I brought as a gift for the host. Instead, I was forced to endure a one-sided conversation about body neutrality, mansplained by none other than the Pillsbury Doughboy.
When I entered the living room, the Pillsbury Doughboy was smoking a joint and avoiding eye contact with women. He patted the couch cushion next to him, and no sooner did I sit down he launched into an unprompted rant about the unrealistic pressures of the body positivity movement.
Just my fucking luck.
“You probably don’t know this, but body positivity can be really toxic,” the Pillsbury Doughboy said angrily. And it’s like, yes I know, I reposted a whole infographic about it. Who does the Pillsbury Doughboy think he is?
When one woman generously asked about his experience with fad diets and their harmful effects on the liver, he responded, “I don’t know. I am made entirely of dough.” Then added, “So, have you ladies ever confronted your thin privilege?”
I never imagined such a beloved mascot could be so condescending while expressing views we’re ultimately in complete agreement on.
Also, I don’t resent the Pillsbury Doughboy for his impressively neutral body image, but did he have to rub it in? He was clothed in only in a chef’s hat and a neckerchief – also made of dough. If I showed up to anything dressed like that, I would be asked, “what the hell is a neckerchief?” And then I would be asked to leave.
How hard can it be to feel – at the very least – neutral about a body made of yummy, yummy dough? Eight to twelve minutes at 350 degrees and suddenly he’s a mouth-watering sugar cookie. Not all of us are born with that kind of bodily privilege, so maybe he should think about that.
While I wholeheartedly support the body neutrality movement, I draw the line at being mansplained things I pay $250 a therapy session to hear, and by a boy made of croissant mix, no less.
Maybe, if the Pillsbury Doughboy had acted a little more like a dough-man, we could have had an in-depth conversation about unjust societal expectations for someone whose body is constantly under public scrutiny, but instead he acted like a little dough bitch.
So if you ever come face-to-face with this guy, I recommend ducking out as soon as possible. He did, however, have some interesting things to say about the thorny politics of desire in a culture that at once polices and commodifies sexuality. Go figure!
