Published: Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Tracing the history of weight-loss obsession
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The Advertising Archives via Library of Congress
Costly quackery: A 1903 advertisement for La Parle Obesity Soap, which sold for $1 a bar -- about $23.60 in today's dollars.
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The Advertising Archives via Library of Congress
Hazardous to your health: A 1940s advertisement for Bile Beans offered the World War II generation an unsafe laxative approach to slim down.
Before there was Dr. Atkins, there was William Banting. He invented the low-carb diet of 1863. Even then Americans were trying out advice that urged fish, mutton or "any meat except pork" for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Hold the potatoes, please.
It turns out our obsession with weight and how to lose it dates back at least 150 years. And while now we say "overweight" instead of "corpulent" -- and obesity has become epidemic -- a look back at dieting history shows what hasn't changed is the quest for an easy fix.
Clemson University sociologist Ellen Granberg, who examined archives at the Library of Congress, believes it's important to show "we're not dealing with some brand new, scary phenomenon we've never dealt with before."
Indeed, the aging documents are eerily familiar.
Consider Englishman William Banting's account of losing almost 50 pounds in a year. He did it by shunning "bread, butter, milk, sugar, beer and potatoes, which had been the main (and I thought innocent) elements of my existence" in favor of loads of meat.
His pamphlet, "Letter on Corpulence, Addressed to the Public," quickly crossed the Atlantic and become so popular here that "banting" became slang for dieting, Granberg says.
We first changed from a nation where being plump was desirable into a nation of on-again, off-again dieters around the end of the 19th century, Granberg says.
Before then, people figured a little extra weight might help withstand infectious diseases. It also was a sign of prosperity.
The emergence of trolleys, cars and other machinery in the late 19th century scaled back the sheer number of calories people once burned, Granberg explains. Increasing prosperity meant easier access to food.
"An excess of flesh is to be looked upon as one of the most objectionable forms of disease," the Philadelphia Cookbook declared in 1900. Low-cal cookbooks hadn't arrived yet; the calorie wasn't quite in vogue.
By 1903, La Parle obesity soap that "never fails to reduce flesh" was selling at a pricey $1 a bar. The Louisenbad Reduction Salt pledged to "wash away your fat." Soon came an exercise machine, the Graybar Stimulator to jiggle the pounds. Bile Beans promoted a laxative approach.
The government's first advice to balance proteins, carbohydrates and fat came in 1894. A few years later, life insurance companies reported that being overweight raised the risk of death. In 1916, the Department of Agriculture came up with the five food groups.
Around World War II, charts showing ideal weight-for-height emerged, surprisingly close to what today is considered a healthy body mass index. Diet foods quickly followed, as did support groups like Weight Watchers -- putting today's diet infrastructure in place by 1970, Granberg says.
It turns out our obsession with weight and how to lose it dates back at least 150 years. And while now we say "overweight" instead of "corpulent" -- and obesity has become epidemic -- a look back at dieting history shows what hasn't changed is the quest for an easy fix.
Clemson University sociologist Ellen Granberg, who examined archives at the Library of Congress, believes it's important to show "we're not dealing with some brand new, scary phenomenon we've never dealt with before."
Indeed, the aging documents are eerily familiar.
Consider Englishman William Banting's account of losing almost 50 pounds in a year. He did it by shunning "bread, butter, milk, sugar, beer and potatoes, which had been the main (and I thought innocent) elements of my existence" in favor of loads of meat.
His pamphlet, "Letter on Corpulence, Addressed to the Public," quickly crossed the Atlantic and become so popular here that "banting" became slang for dieting, Granberg says.
We first changed from a nation where being plump was desirable into a nation of on-again, off-again dieters around the end of the 19th century, Granberg says.
Before then, people figured a little extra weight might help withstand infectious diseases. It also was a sign of prosperity.
The emergence of trolleys, cars and other machinery in the late 19th century scaled back the sheer number of calories people once burned, Granberg explains. Increasing prosperity meant easier access to food.
"An excess of flesh is to be looked upon as one of the most objectionable forms of disease," the Philadelphia Cookbook declared in 1900. Low-cal cookbooks hadn't arrived yet; the calorie wasn't quite in vogue.
By 1903, La Parle obesity soap that "never fails to reduce flesh" was selling at a pricey $1 a bar. The Louisenbad Reduction Salt pledged to "wash away your fat." Soon came an exercise machine, the Graybar Stimulator to jiggle the pounds. Bile Beans promoted a laxative approach.
The government's first advice to balance proteins, carbohydrates and fat came in 1894. A few years later, life insurance companies reported that being overweight raised the risk of death. In 1916, the Department of Agriculture came up with the five food groups.
Around World War II, charts showing ideal weight-for-height emerged, surprisingly close to what today is considered a healthy body mass index. Diet foods quickly followed, as did support groups like Weight Watchers -- putting today's diet infrastructure in place by 1970, Granberg says.
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