Picture Perfect

I reached an age, probably around 12, when Seventeen and YM became my gospel, the all-knowing mantra for the teenage life I was about to enter. I'd fork over my allowance each week to find out "how to score my dream guy" or "the secrets to a killer bod" through an immeasurable number of tip sheets and unscientific quizzes. Then I'd then curl up in my bedroom—which I wasn't coming out of much in those days—and wonder if I'd ever measure up to the oh-so-perfect models staring back at me from the page.

It may sound pathetic, but ask any woman; those early teen years are torturous, when nothing about ourselves ever seems good or pretty or perfect enough. And it doesn't stop at 16. Most women will cop to comparing themselves, at least occasionally, to the actresses and celebs of their generation that appear in magazines or advertisements. And thanks to improvements in photo retouching over the last five years, those glossy images have strayed further and further from anything resembling reality. Retouching techniques that were once used mainly to erase blemishes or stray hairs have become tools for radical human body distortion, shrinking waists and vanquishing years, turning models and actresses into leggy dolls of literally inhuman proportions.

But there's a growing backlash against this digital Barbie-fication of almost every model, actress or celebrity. Sure, anyone reading a women's magazine understands that fashion is supposed to be fantasy, but when middle-aged celebrities and teenage actresses all look as if they're about the same age and weight, people start to notice—and object. Even governments are examining the public health consequences of mass media images that look so little like the masses.

Most serious news organizations, including NEWSWEEK, have strict rules against photo manipulation. But for now fashion, women's and lifestyle publications typically honor no such code. They may not admit it outright, but it's common knowledge within the industry that retouching and thinning models and celebrities is not just standard procedure, it's expected and often demanded by publicists. "We're always stretching the models' legs and slimming their thighs," a Manhattan-based photo retoucher tells NEWSWEEK, speaking anonymously for fear of professional backlash. "Sometimes I feel a little like Frankenstein."

In response to the uproar over some well-publicized alterations of celebrities, though, the trade groups that represent those publications, in both Britain and the United States, say they are considering voluntary codes outlining how far art directors can go. And late last month the National Assembly of France went a step further when it approved a startling new bill that, if passed by the Senate, would make it a crime for anyone, from pro-anorexia Web sites to advertisers to editors, to publicly incite "excessive thinness" or extreme dieting. Though it's unclear how those offenses would be defined or interpreted, the law would allow judges to punish offenders by up to two years in prison and fines up to $47,000. "It's time for public action against this scourge," the bill's author told the Washington Post.

Whether or not magazines are actually inciting thinness, it doesn't take a genius to see that they're creating a standard of beauty that's far from what the average American reader can attain. Already models weigh about 23 percent less than the average woman, according to a 2004 SizeUSA study. We shudder to think how that disparity may have grown in the intervening four years. Retouchers today are increasingly asked by advertisers and editors to enlarge eyes, trim ears, fill in hairlines, straighten and whiten teeth and lengthen the already narrow necks, waists and legs of 18-year-old beauties—in some cases replacing hands, feet or legs altogether with the parts of "more appealing" models.