Words by Freya Bennett
Tracey Spicer was a familiar face on Channel Ten News during my early teenage years. Her voice was a constant presence as I sat at the coffee table doing my homework, waiting for Neighbours to start. Little did I know then that she would become an important role model in my future.
In the early 2000s, extreme and unrealistic body standards were rampant, and without social media to challenge this toxic culture, mainstream media perpetuated these harmful ideals entirely unchecked. At 13, I was already being influenced by shows like America’s Next Top Model and magazines like Dolly and I started to obsess over the way my body looked. I purchased the cellulite smashing moisturiser Dolly told me to buy, I tried cutting down my portions in an attempt to have my hip bones stick out like the models I saw on TV and I cursed my genes for rendering me a mere 5’4 inches.
It was only during my late teens and early adulthood that I became fully aware of the damaging messages about women in the media. Unable to find a magazine for teens that was uplifting, I decided to create my own. After the idea had simmered in my mind for years, I finally gathered the courage to seek feedback from friends. With their support, Tigress (the first iteration of Ramona) was born.
Coincidentally in 2014, the same year we launched Tigress, Tracey Spicer AM delivered her impactful TEDx Talk, The Lady Stripped Bare.
Tracey Spicer is a multiple Walkley Award-winning journalist, author, and broadcaster. She is the author of two influential books, The Good Girl Stripped Bare and Man-Made: How the Bias of the Past is Being Built into the Future. Her remarkable contributions to media and advocacy have earned her numerous accolades, including the NSW Premier’s Woman of the Year in 2019 and the Order of Australia.
Tracey’s 2014 TEDx talk was a powerful message about the unrealistic beauty expectations placed on women. It resonated deeply with me and I remember it fuelling my determination to create a more positive place for girls and young women.
Ten years after listening to Tracey’s talk, and after pouring over both her wonderful books, I was honoured to sit down and chat all things activism and our future with AI.
The first thing I ask her is where the idea for her remarkable TEDx talk came from. What inspired her to write it?
Tracey was growing increasingly exhausted by the double standards faced by women in the media. Her frustration reached a tipping point when her seven-year-old daughter innocently asked, “Mum, why do women put on make-up and men don’t?”
She tells me that this simple yet profound question struck a chord with her. She began to reflect deeply on the societal pressures and expectations that dictated her daily routine, particularly the rigorous grooming required to appear “TV-ready” as a woman.
“As a lifelong TV presenter who spent hours every day putting on inches of makeup and having my hair done, I really didn’t want my daughter to feel that burden before she went out of the house,” Tracey begins, “I wanted her to be able to use that time to do things she loved, whether it was music or playing netball, just something that was going to bring joy into her life or be worthwhile rather than merely decorating herself.”
I tell Tracey that my 6-year-old loves to play with make-up, but I worry about the moment it becomes a pressure rather than an enjoyment. My fear of having two daughters in a world that expects women to look a certain way means I am extra cautious of the outside influences they are privy to. The pressures may have changed since I was a teenager, but they’re still there – just in a different form.
Tracey reassures me that our role modelling as parents does sink in, and while there will always be outside influences, what we say and do around our children matters. She tells me about her now 18-year-old daughter who has fun with make-up when going out with her friends but is aware of the double standards women face when it comes to how we present ourselves. Her daughter frequently voices her frustration with the double standards of content she encounters as a young woman on platforms like Snapchat.
While body diversity in mainstream media has improved, new pressures have emerged, driven by cosmetic procedures like Botox and fillers that have become ingrained in beauty routines. The rise of artificial intelligence and advanced medical technologies has further intensified these expectations, enabling more drastic alterations to one’s appearance. As Tracey points out, ‘These are really scary times.’ Yet, she also sees hope, noting that ‘some young women and girls will be strong enough to say, “No, I don’t want to be caught up in that.”‘
This tension between pressure and resistance is further complicated by social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok. These apps can be a double-edged sword: while they often perpetuate harmful standards, they also provide a platform to challenge them. Despite its flaws, Tracey believes this digital arena fosters collective action against unrealistic ideals. ‘One of the good things about new media is that we’re having these conversations openly. Girls are talking about these issues, and we’re breaking down and deconstructing society’s expectations.’
Continued dialogue and solidarity are crucial for women to resist these pressures. ‘We need to keep talking about it, joining together, and saying, “Hang on, we don’t want to feel that pressure. It’s unfair and incredibly unrealistic.”‘ Through these conversations, a stronger, more united front against harmful beauty standards is being built.
The pressures associated with aging have also intensified as societal expectations increasingly demand that we maintain a perpetually youthful appearance. As I approach 40, I find myself grappling with the pressure to stay youthful while also wanting to set a positive example of happily aging for my girls.. Tracey tells me about her experience of embracing her grey hair: “I’m a very small percentage of my friendship group who’s chosen to do this. I don’t judge anyone for continuing to dye their hair, but they often say, ‘I wish I could do that.’ I tell them, ‘I’m not doing this to guilt you. I’m doing it because it makes me happy.'”
Emma Thompson’s wise words come to mind: “Don’t waste your life’s purpose worrying about your body.” It’s a message I hope my daughters will fully embrace. Tracey wholeheartedly agrees, exclaiming, “Yeah, what a waste!”
When asked about society’s progress in valuing women for their non-physical merits over appearance, Tracey responds with cautious optimism: “I’ve noticed that in corporate spaces, more women are wearing less makeup, which is a good thing. In certain sectors, there is less pressure on women to appear a certain way, though both men and women still have to look well-groomed. Interestingly, there’s also a bit more pressure on men in this regard.”
While Tracey’s first book was shaped by her personal experiences with these double standards of grooming practices, her second book Man-Made, was inspired by a conversation with her young son, who requested a ‘robot slave’ after watching an episode of South Park. Tracey reflects on the irony of her son now studying computer science, noting her influence on his experience, “The other day he told me, ‘Mum, you’re not going to like it—my whole lecture theatre is full of guys. There are hardly any girls or young women studying this.'” to which she admits, “That made me very sad.”
Man-Made offers a deep dive into artificial intelligence, uncovering how historical biases and societal prejudices are embedded in AI systems. The book reveals how these biases impact algorithms and technologies, with significant implications for fairness and equity. Tracey’s thorough research demonstrates how past prejudices continue to affect modern technology, calling for a critical review of how to address and correct these inherited biases. After reading it, I realised that my previous reflections on AI had only scratched the surface. I confessed to Tracey that I had naively believed that simply changing Siri’s voice to male would adequately address AI biases. And while she thinks that’s a good start, she admits, “It’s dangerous for democracy and gender relations.”
On a recent appearance on The Storymakers podcast, Tracey talks about why it’s so important to call out Big Tech and boycott the worst offenders sharing a disturbing example of neocolonialism: Kenyan workers filtering horrific online content for Western audiences. This “Black Mirror” reality prompts me to ask Tracey about how we can drive positive change when facing big tech companies. “Collective action can change the world. If you think a company is using modern-day slavery, don’t support them. Choose smaller, ethical companies.”
Tracey and I realise at the same time that we are both talking on computers made by a particularly problematic company. But Tracey, not one to be disheartened, shares how we can take a pragmatic approach sharing that while “It’s important to boycott the worst offenders,” we can also push back by “making devices last as long as possible” (a great reminder to not fall for the gimmick of needing to update your devices every few years).
And what about the concern that AI might render writers and other creatives redundant? This question has been a significant source of anxiety for me as I navigate my early career as a writer in these uncertain times. Tracey remains optimistic, firmly believing that people will always seek human-created art for its unique, emotional impact. Hearing this reassurance, I breathe a sigh of relief, finding solace in the confirmation of my own belief that the distinctiveness and emotional depth of human creativity will continue to be valued.
Finally, as AI increasingly permeates our daily lives, I seek Tracey’s thoughts on its potential impact on children. She reassures me with a comforting perspective, saying, “Your kids will be fine because you’re talking about it around them.” Her reassurance reflects the belief that open conversations about AI will help children navigate and understand its influence, fostering a sense of awareness and adaptability in a rapidly changing world.
As our conversation draws to a close, I want to shift the focus to a deeply personal subject: the impact of long COVID and dysautonomia. Having personally experienced dysautonomia, I am profoundly grateful to individuals like Tracey who bring attention to these often-overlooked conditions. Tracey highlights an important aspect, saying, “One good thing about COVID is the raised awareness of illnesses that predominantly affect women.” She shares her own journey, explaining that following a COVID infection, she developed POTS and Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (previously known as chronic fatigue syndrome). “It can be particularly devastating for young women, impacting their plans, work, and social lives,” she adds.
These conditions, which disproportionately affect women, often face significant gaps in understanding and treatment. Tracey’s outspoken advocacy has been instrumental in shifting the conversation and bringing much-needed attention to these issues. I share my own struggles with Inappropriate Sinus Tachycardia and the experiences of Ramona editor Haylee, who has battled POTS and endometriosis for over a decade before receiving a proper diagnosis. Tracey acknowledges the challenges we face as women and the persistent sexism in the medical field regarding autoimmune conditions. With a nod to our shared resilience, she responds: “We’re warriors.”
Speaking with Tracey Spicer was a profoundly enriching experience. She is gracious, kind, and generous with her time and insights, all while tirelessly challenging unfair beauty standards, conducting extensive research into AI bias, and advocating for those with invisible disabilities. Her work underscores the need for more voices like hers in the ongoing fight for women’s equality and the recognition and treatment of debilitating, invisible conditions. As I pick up my daughter from school, I reflect on all I have learned from Tracey and feel deeply grateful to have such a role model. Her example inspires me as I navigate the complexities of parenting and beauty standards in my middle years.
