“Survival of The Thickest” is a fat, feminist wet dream!

By: Bella Carbone

As someone studying media & screen studies in college, I can not help but critically analyze all the media I consume. Especially, coming from someone who is an advocate for media literacy (in the way where I think media studies is valuable and not a waste of time hehe). So, it is safe to say a lot of the television and movies I indulge in during my free time are not very feminist. Heck, some of them would not even pass the Bechdel Test and that is a low bar to miss. In the sea of quite sexist, racist, homophobic, and patriarchal media that’s out there lies a diamond in the rough. That diamond is the creative lovechild of writers (and comedienne) Michelle Buteau and Danielle Sanchez-Witzel, Survival of the Thickest, on Netflix. 

For starters, the show is centered on middle-aged, big girl Mavis who just got out of a long-term relationship with a cheating ass mf so, she must start from scratch as her and her shared everything from the workplace to the home space. Thus, it was not easy for Mavis to start over as a thirty-something-year-old living in a small, NYC apartment with her cooky roommate as well as her search for a career in the fashion industry. That’s one aspect of this show I absolutely love. It focuses on fat, gender, and queer inclusivity within fashion. Towards the end of the series, Mavis hosts a queer prom for LGBTQ+ high schoolers in NYC and designs the prom attire for the children. Although her character is a heterosexual, cisgender woman, the show deliberately includes LGBTQ+ characters and plotlines. The show also includes mostly characters of color, which is very refreshing for a Netflix sitcom. The character of Mavis has made it abundantly clear that what drives her passion for fashion is her desire to make it a space of empowerment for all types of people with all differing body types. Not many fashion-focused shows can say that. They typically focus on slimness and ideal femininity. 

Next up we have Mavis’s beloved, Boss Bitch best friend Marley. Whether she’s gracefully ripping a dab pen or kicking some corporate patriarchy butt, Marley’s character is hilarious and a feminist badass. Another thing that draws me to her is the queer, Black girl journey her character takes us on. Her sexuality is something she experiments with on the show in a positive, affirming way that embraces queerness in middle-aged Black womanhood. Seeing two successful Black women unapologetically love each other without trauma, shame, and heartbreak is truly revolutionary for television. 

The next character whom I loved to watch from a critical standpoint was Natasha Karina. Played by Garcelle Beauvais, whom you may know if you are a RHOBH stan like us. Natasha’s transformation in the “Be a Boss Bitch, Bitch” episode of the series is one of my favorite fat, feminist plotlines in the show. Mavis and Natasha bond over the pain that comes with being a fat, Black woman in a society that hails thinness and whiteness as the epitome of beauty. Mavis is able to use girlhood and the power of fashion to make Natasha feel confident and empowered in her curves. I haven’t seen much affirming fat girl magic like this on television in almost ever. I am so used to fat characters being the butt of the joke, being told to lose weight, being praised for a weight loss transformation, and being side characters because they were never quite commercial enough to be main characters. I do not want to go into too much detail as I think the theatrics of the episode are something you need to experience by watching the episode yourself. Thus, Natasha Karina can show what radical self-love looks like against a fatphobic society or at least a society that inflicts body-image issues onto women so much so that they internalize the fear of fatness even if they are not fat (note Natasha isn’t even fat per se she is more of what some would refer to as “plus-size”). 

Lastly, I want to talk about a location in the show’s setting they often visited. A space where Mavis brought her queer and straight friends (even a straight man!). She frequented this space as a designer, ally, audience member, and friend. CC. Blooms is a drag bar where the infamous Peppermint works and Mavis and her friends attend multiple drag performances. While the main characters are not drag queens, the show includes them in a way that is not fetishistic or exploitative. Rather, it still embraces queerness in its characters, subplots, and setting even if the main character herself is not queer. That’s why I love this show so much. It is unapologetically intersectional, inclusive, radical, and feminist. Thank you Michelle Beauteau because from this show you have become one of my idols and inspirations. You are hilarious, powerful, uplifting, and a necessary force in a world dominated by messages that adhere to the dominant, patriarchal standards, you challenge this norm with every episode you create!