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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Bucknell chapter.

For weeks now, radios everywhere have been blaring Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass,” a contagiously-catchy, retro-sounding tune about embracing one’s figure. With a superficial listen, perhaps the only lyrics you’ll pick up are “every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top.” Empowering, right? Not quite. A closer inspection of the lyrics shows that despite Trainor’s good lyrical intentions, she looks at loving one’s own body in the completely incorrect way. By only celebrating fuller figures, she fuels society’s obsession with having a singular idea of “perfect.” In reality, it is more important for women to focus on being happy and comfortable in their own skin than on changing how the world views them.

Let’s face it, as females, we tend to fall into the trap of comparison a bit too often. It’s so easy to notice when the girl next to you at the gym is running just a little bit faster or the girl sitting in front of you in class scored a few points higher on her exam. And when it comes to appearances — ironically, something we have very little control over — any girl can become downright ruthless in trying to convince herself that some other girl isn’t actually as pretty or as stylish as she appears.

Take a deep breath, ladies, these tendencies are simply due to the culture of superficiality that surrounds us. Just as Trainor mentions in her song, things like “Photoshop” and “Barbie dolls” provide an unrealistic picture of what a real woman is. However, Trainor, too, completely misses the point of what it means to be a “real woman” in her song. Even though she is frustrated by the media and society depicting a single female body type (i.e., slender) as “ideal,” she does the exact same thing through celebration of only fuller figures in “All About That Bass,” boasting about having “all the right junk in all the right places.” By saying that there is a “right place” to have the “right junk,” she implies that body types lacking these qualifications are less attractive.

Yes, it is important to applaud Trainor for loving her body, as this is something that many women find it hard to do. (Get this: according to a Glamour magazine survey, 97% of women admitted to experiencing at least one “I hate my body” moment every single day!) It just doesn’t make sense for Trainor to dismiss society’s single idea of beauty when she is simply presenting her own, albeit different, single idea of beauty. Some women are naturally a “size two,” but that does not immediately qualify them as “skinny bitches,” as Trainor sings. Fundamentally, skinny-shaming is no worse than fat-shaming: both belittle a person for something over which s/he may have no control. And even if a person can control their weight, but chooses not to, who has the right to judge? If we want to change society’s rigid mindset that being slim is the only way to be attractive, then we have to embrace the idea that all figures are beautiful, and no single body type — broad, petite, or anything in between — is “better” or “sexier” than another.

The idea of sexualizing body type reoccurs in “All About That Bass” when Trainor mentions “boys like a little more booty to hold at night.” In saying this, she is defining her beauty in the way that a man finds most attractive. Collegiettes, no matter what the size of your “booty,” you should never, ever let a man define your self-worth. If a man thinks that you are less attractive because of the way your figure is naturally built, then do not hesitate to kick his booty to the curb; you deserve someone who can see that it is what’s on the inside that matters most.

Although Trainor’s sentiment is intended to empower, she depicts the wrong image of what a female should strive to be. Why stress over perfecting your looks when your character and personality paint a much better self-portrait? The realness of a woman is never determined by the shape of her body. Rather, a real woman is someone who can accept both herself and others the way they are, going beyond the superficiality of appearance. This type of inner beauty always shines through.

Elizabeth is a senior at Bucknell University, majoring in English and Spanish. She was born and raised in Northern New Jersey, always with hopes of one day pursuing a career as a journalist. She worked for her high school paper and continues to work on Bucknell’s The Bucknellian as a senior writer. She has fervor for frosting, creamy delights, and all things baking, an affinity for classic rock music, is a collector of bumper stickers and postcards, and is addicted to Zoey Deschanel in New Girl. Elizabeth loves anything coffee flavored, the Spanish language, and the perfect snowfall. Her weakness? Brunch. See more of her work at www.elizabethbacharach.wordpress.com