It’s 1986 and the Observer is wondering if we will ever escape our fixation with thin women
As I write, the city is in the sweaty grip of an unprecedented April heatwave. ‘To the beer garden!’ I hear everyone I have ever met cry. The initial alcohol-induced euphoria rapidly gives way to an all-consuming feeling of panic: how the hell does one dress for this weather when one’s body resembles that of an anaemic seal? When the sun comes out, the pressure to look like a Victoria’s Secret model at Coachella is somewhat amplified, but not so in 1986, it seems. ‘Lean times have gone, big girls bite back,’ proclaims this week’s archive Observer Magazine.
‘I’ve been waiting for this moment since the week back in 1984, when I was first aware of the return of the big girls,’ writes journalist Veronica Horwell. ‘I saw Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone and realised she weighed in at equal to the villain, though more curvilinear.’
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