Once or twice a year, usually busy intersections in France are transformed into pedestrian-only flea markets. Vendors overrun the streets, displaying valuable antiques next to worthless junk and World War II memorabilia beside broken foosball tables. This year my flea market booty consisted of a gaudy pair of sunglasses that cost 20 centimes and some French fashion magazines from the 1960s.

The magic of weight-loss underpants

While perusing my three copies of L’écho de la mode I got a kick out of kitschy ads featuring overjoyed housewives showing off their new favorite brand of powdered milk. I also particularly enjoyed an ad for Stephanie Bowman’s weight-loss method.

At first glance, it’s not that much different than an ad we might see today. Beneath the word Maigrir (Lose Weight) in large capital letters, the silhouette of a slender woman says, “I found myself younger and happier, thanks to Stephanie Bowman!” But when I read closer, I realized that Stephanie’s technique involves wearing thinning underwear.

We’re not talking about control-top hose here, though I would venture to say that these are even more repulsive than today’s “granny panties.” Stephanie’s underpants claim to actually make you lose weight. “Lose weight fast, without dieting, without lotions, without drugs, thus healthily” the ad explains.

The underwear covers from waist to knee, “assuring the elimination of toxins and cellulite” so that in very little time users would attain the body they desire, along with the “self-confidence that is truly indispensable in modern life.”

Anti-cellulite lotions nothing new

While Stephanie’s panties were by far the most eccentric weight-loss tool advertised, there were other ads whose claims seemed awfully implausible. For example, there was Professor Roque’s lotion that removes fat and cellulite from tissues through “osmosis.”

Mrs. “M” claimed to have lost 33 pounds in one month, which was probably either an outright lie or involved the heavy use of amphetamines, which were commonly used in diet pills at the time. Though the article doesn’t go into the science behind this miracle lotion, it does offer documentation in return for a self-addressed stamped envelope and explains that Roque is a “learned biology professor.”

No real weight-loss advice for 1960s women

More surprising than these absurd weight-loss methods was that aside from these ads and a couple of diet pill ads, weight wasn’t even mentioned. Today, when you read a women’s magazine, the fashion section tells you how to hide your tummy, and the cooking section features low-calorie recipes. The weight-loss ads in Écho de la Mode were tucked in the very last pages of the magazine, where we still hide preposterous advertisements today.

Though we know obesity rates have risen dramatically in the past twenty years, it’s pretty incredible to flip through a woman’s magazine that completely fails to talk about weight loss. Kitsch factor aside, these copies of Écho de la Mode are a lot like magazines we buy today, except for the lack of diet articles among the articles on cooking, fashion, child raising and jobs.

In the sixties, though thinness was socially desired, it was far from being the social obsession that it has now become. I guess the upside to our current weight loss obsession is that we seem to be a bit better informed on how to make it happen. You never hear of magical skinny-panties these days. Though to an American who’s been taught that weight has nothing to do with lotions, some of the cellulite creams on the French market seem slightly reminiscent of Roque’s osmosis fat sucking lotion.

(By Chelsie Yount for CalorieLab Calorie Counter News)

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 7th, 2008 and is filed under Diet and food media, Foreign stories (non-U.S.). You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed. Permalink.