When critiquing fashion or the beauty industry, people focus on the imposition of beauty standards. Most assume a unified set of beauty rules exists. But beauty is more variable and complicated, even if commonalities persist. Another approach to the discussion is derived from the Russian philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin, who analyzes the grotesque image of the body in his book Rabelais and His World. Bakhtin describes, “The grotesque body, as we have often stressed, is a body in the act of becoming. It is never finished, never completed; it is continually built, created, and builds and creates another body.” In fashion or beauty magazines, people view bodies at a point of perfection (or completion). But in reality, people are constantly in a state of becoming, aiming towards achieving different goals, including this elusive standard of perfection. Contrary from being terrible, the grotesque is part of being human.

Against the pressures and exploitations, Helen Wood, Professor of Media and Cultural Studies at the University of Lancaster UK, stakes a tension between the ideal, classical body from which people derive “beauty standards” and the grotesque body that differs from that classical ideal. Bakhtin cites examples from literature to develop his understanding of the grotesque. In medieval literature, the devils and demons manifest disfigured bodies that symbolize their evil intentions and actions. For whatever reason, bodies that were less common and unfamiliar were feared (and sometimes still are). Prior to machines for travel like airplanes and technology that enables us to see images from around the world like computers, people were afraid of those who presented as different from themselves. These differences might have been physical like skin color, or they might have been stylistically different as in their garments. With advancements in our knowledge, we can move beyond our primordial instincts. We no longer need to fear different bodies.

Recent examples from film readily abound. David Lynch’s The Elephant Man (1980) and Peter Bogdanovich’s Mask (1985) provide stories based on real people who experienced poor treatment based on their appearances. The main characters of both films suffered from particular maladies; proteus syndrome and craniodiaphyseal dysplasia (known as lionitis) both distort people’s facial and other bodily features, putting them out of proportion. Ann M. Fox, writing about disability aesthetics, explains that aesthetics is the source of ableism. The beautiful body has been (and still is) viewed as a product of reason and purpose. During many periods of history, the beautiful body existed as an unified ideal, whereas the grotesque could manifest in a plurality of ways. Anything fallen short of the perceived ideal is thereby grotesque, but this encompasses almost everyone.

Bakhtin explains how it appears in literature: “Exaggeration, hyperbolism, excessiveness are generally considered fundamental attributes of the grotesque style.” While this may at first appear to comprise unique circumstances, Bakhtin continues, “the grotesque body is cosmic and universal.” We are all grotesque, in a sense, compared to any given ideal. But the belief that only some are grotesque is part of the exploitative tactics of those in power. As encompassed by one imagery, the gaping mouth, the grotesque reminds us of the inevitability of death. The open mouth is open to the eventual death. The distortion of other body parts lead to similar assessments, which is why these distortions are found in monsters in many works of literature. Through medical knowledge, we understand that many of these formerly fearful attributes are not to be feared, but many people’s instincts continue to prevail. Knowledge through art, science, philosophy, and so on can help us overcome these primordial reactions.

Alexandre Balthasar Grimod de la Reynière (1758–1837), known as Grimod, could be construed as an early performance artist, and he was widely regarded as a gourmand, which we might now call a foodie. Grimod was born with a condition we now call Cenani-Lenz Syndrome; his hands and fingers were fused together. Rather than admit that this was a biological or genetic condition, his parents concocted a story about a servant dropping him in a pig pen as a baby, and the pigs gnawed at his fingers. In February 1783, Grimod hosted his infamous dinner. Two dozen guests arrived and walked through labyrinthine hallways—complete with a creepy monk and staff dressed as choir boys—until they reached a dining hall. The guests were served a multicourse meal on a table with a coffin as the centerpiece. Some rumors claim that at the head of the table sat a pig, dressed in Grimod’s father’s clothing (a satirical allusion to his supposed encounter with pigs). Sometimes the macabre leaves a strong impression as people apprehensively acknowledge that death comes for us all. We can try to keep up appearances, but Grimod wanted, at least on this occasion to highlight the grotesque, which people confront regularly.

Why is this important? The beauty and fashion industries need to sell products. In order to do so, they must believe or claim that they bring positive results to the people who use these products. While it may not always be intentional, a sharp distinction between the beautiful and grotesque must be made or at least implied. People’s desire for healthy bodies—regardless of precisely what that means—is not necessarily problematic, and we also have a desire to “look good,” whatever that means. It becomes a problem when we are told that there is only one way to achieve that healthy, good-looking body. Lurking in the background is the grotesque that companies warn us to avoid.

While many try to adhere to cultural beauty standards, others revel in extreme looks, usually requiring surgery, that distort their faces or bodies for various reasons, including fame. We should rightly hesitate in calling anyone “grotesque” in light of its common usage, but these body-modification decisions bypass what our brains recognize as “normal” or “typical” human proportions. This is why they jump out at us. Practices, such as bimbofication, and artists, like Fecal Matter, push the boundaries of the human form. Regardless of our like or dislike of these practices, they challenge us to consider what it means to be human at a fundamental, philosophical level.

Can we promote products and practices without implicitly denying other people’s full humanity or beauty? Bakhtin notes that the grotesque body gave a new awareness “not abstract thought about the future but the living sense that each man belongs to the immortal people who create history.” Human beings are constantly becoming as long as they live. Our bodies fluctuate along the gradation between the classical ideals and the grotesque.