U U U U -~ Bulimia from page 1 "I would go to any length to get the food fir a binge," she said. Leslie's behavior isn't uncommon; she is part of a growing number of women at the University and nation- wide who vomit regularly to maintain their weight. An estimated 13 percent of college- aged women suffer from bulimia, an eating disorder in which women gorge themselves and then vomit or take an overdose of laxatives to avoid gaining weight, according to a study by Dr. Katherine Halmi at New York Hospital- Cornell Medical Center. Local eating disorder specialists, who last year alone saw more than 200 women with bulimia, said the number may be as high as 20 percent. Anorexia nervosa - a related eating disorder in which victims lose at least 25 percent of their body weight through self-starvation - has been the focus of media attention in recent years. But bulimia, which psychologists now say is more prevalent than anorexia, especially among college womynen, has been virtually ignored. Many physicians, for example, refused to treat bulimics because they regarded the disorder as either too disgusting or just another fad. In a society so obsessed with weight that fitness and diet books top the best- seller lists, it isn't surprising that some women take dieting to an extreme. The pages of fashion magazines many women scour before coming to college are plastered with incompatible images of sliver-thin models and hoards of fat- tening food. The deceptive message is that somehow the models are able to do the impossible-eat anything they want and stay thin. And bulimics, at least for awhile, make the impossible come true. Leslie started dieting her senior year in high school, cutting down her 5 foot 5 inch frame to 110 pounds. Maintaining her weight became the focus of her life. "I was always looking and grabbing how thin she was. Her obsession with weight only masked her fears and in- securities about starting college. Leslie was anxious about coming to the University. Her father died when she was in junior high school, and she felt guilty about leaving her mother home alone. Her problems grew into a preoc- cupation with eating. She felt over- whelmed by the unlimited food choices in her dormitory cafeteria. Indulging in deserts and second helpings made her feel so guilty she forced herself to vomit. "It got to be that I was eating every time I socialized. I really thought it wasn't my fault because socializing requires that you eat. Like going to the bar you have to have a few drinks," she explained. Other freshwomen, like Leslie, read the same fashion magazines and get the same conflicting messages, said Vivian Meehan, director of Anorexia Nervosa and Related Disorders (ANAD), a national group based in Highland Park, Ill. "The image that's projected (through magazines) is anyone who is successful and desirable is very thin and can eat anything they desire. As long as those two ideas are being projected as a con- sistent goal for women to achieve, there's nothing you can do to prevent eating disorders," she said. IT'S NOT just anorexics and bulimics who are striving to be thin. An in- creased emphasis on dieting and fitness has made a preoccupation with weight quite common. A survey by resear- chers at Ohio State University found that 10 percent of those women questioned were preoccupied with their weight and had bulimic tendencies. In sororities, the number jumped to 16 percent and was 23 percent among dan- cers, according to the study. The University is no exception. sorority members make no secret about the fact that many of their housemates are excessive dieters. "One hundred percent of my sorority is hung up about their weight," said an LSA junior who asked not to be iden- tified. At meals in her sorority, most women bring their own diet salad dressing. They also keep the refrigerators stocked with tuna packed in water, diet soft drinks, and grapefruits. Jelly festival Motor City Jam ill WR IF / Budweiser Cobo Hall 8 p.m., Friday, September 23 By Susan Makuch H E MAY BE a Motown boy, but his musical roots dig deep into the rockabilly field. He was born and raised by the sounds of his idol, Smoky Robin- son - but he has constantly been com- pared to the likes of Buddy Holly, the original rockabilly master. Who is this man torn between two worlds? It's Marshall Crenshaw. Marshall Crenshaw, a budding musician who grew up in Berkley, Mi., knows what it's like to go from unknown, struggling songwriter to top- of-the charts hitmaker -all in a matter of a few short years. He began his career in local bands for which Marshall wrote many of the original songs and sang leadvocals. "I realized there was no point in con- tinuing in those bands - I knew I could' go farther on my own," Crenshaw said when he was in Ann Arbor last year. His first move in breaking his motor city ties was to relocate in Los Angeles. Crenshaw began by peddling songs to record companies. They were com- positions he now thinks were just "terrible." So did the execs he was trying to impress - there were many doors slammed in his inexperienced face. p '4 I Marshall: Motown baby v s C a Y y It didn't take long for Crenshaw to devise a alternate course of action. He returned to Detroit and set his sights on something a little different. A letter- perfect rendition of the Lennon/McCar- tney hit "I Should Have Known Better," by Marshall and his brother Robert stimulated interest in the producers of Beatlemania. When they saw a picture of Marshall in his Lennon-like, wire rimmed glasses, they were hooked. Crenshaw was promptly hired to por- tray Lennon in the west coast company of Beatlemania. After two years of a Lennon life, Crenshaw decided to leave and "be by myself, or at least try." So he formed the band he is currently playing with - brother Robert (on drums) and guitarist Chris Donnato. His hunch about venturing out on his own was right. He has skyrocketed to the top of the pop charts via such hits as "Someday, Someway," "Rockin' Around in NYC," and "Whenever You're on My Mind." When it comes to favorites Marshall coyly avoids iden- tifying a single song. "I like 'em all," he said. But what about picking an ab- solute fave? "Well, I like 'Someday, Someway,' but I also like 'Cynical Girl.' I think they're probably the best I've ever written," he finally admitted. Although he is associated with Beatle-type music and the Buddy Holly- rockabilly sound, Crenshaw is still a Motown boy at heart. "Smoky (Robin- son) is my hero," he said. "I believe he is the greatest purveyor of pop music in my lifetime," he stated emphatically. "There's nothing more to say - he's my idol, my only goal in this business is to work w fessed. Crenshaw at the thir Jam. This teaming up some of De In additior also be abli Rhythm C Bruiser Ba In the pa been heldfi year is nod tonight'snr WRIF une begins at Arena in I time for so Refrigerator: The obsession 'I would go to any length to get the food for a binge.' -recovered bulimic my stomach and feeling how flat my stomach was, and looking in the mirror to see if my cheeks were getting fat- ter," she said. She first tried forcing herself to vomit the summer before her first year at the University; a friend showed her how af- ter they had overeaten, but she didn't think it was "weird." But once in college, she became trap- ped in a vicious cycle of binging and purging. Leslie's daily ritual started with din- ner in the dorm cafeteria. Still not satisfied, she would go to her room and order a pizza, and then race to the snack bar for ice cream and crumb cakes. The 6rdeal ended with Leslie throwing up in the basement bathroom. Although she was worried someone would find out, she thought it was the only way she could stay thin. Unlike her friends who worried about gaining the infamous "freshman 10," Leslie knew she had the problem licked. But the problem had Leslie caught in a game of measuring her self worth by "Everyone keeps tabs on what everyone eats" she said. What distinguishes a bulimic from other women who are obsessed with dieting is their irrational fear of gaining weight and their family background which makes them prone to the self- destructive behavior. But the traditional sterotype of a bulimic or anorexic as the perfect straight "A" student from a wealthy family no longer holds. A study by ANAD showed that eating disorders are breaking social, religious, and age barriers. Of the one in 200 women nationwide who are anorexic or bulimic, 51 percent are Protestant, 35.5 percent Catholic, and 7.5 percent Jewish, according to the ANAD study. The average family in- come is about $30,000 a year, and the median age for bul=mia is 27 and 14 for anorexia. ANAD has received reports, however, of 80-year-old women who are bulimic and even six-year-old children so fearful of gaining weight that they force themselves to vomit, Meehan said. At the University, most bulimics seem to fit the traditional stereotype, said Ken Castagna, head of the Univer- sity's eating disorders clinic. Castagna, a social worker, has treated more than 200 women with eating disorders since his clinic opened last summer. Most of the women com.e from demanding families who put a lot of emphasis on appearance and achievement. Bulimics usually maintain a normal or slightly below normal weight and work hard at looking like they don't have a problem, Castagna said. Bulimics may be competent and con- fident during the day, but when they are alone at night, they feel frantic and turn to food. The disorder becomes a crutch, a way to avoid pressures and expec- tations with which the women feel they can no longer cope. While all freshpersons must adjust to newfound independence and respon- sibilitiesdat college, a bulimic'sfamily has usually deprived her of the essen- tial skills she needs to adapt. Bulimics often grow up in a sheltered environment where they are surroun- ded with every convenience they need, but not without paying a price. Parents who demand perfection from their daughters don't allow them to make mistakes and learn how to survive on their own. This can make college a complete shock, said Castagna. Once the women get to college, they are terrified and unsure if they really want to grow up. Bulimia is their way of holding up a red flag and saying "everything is not okay, I'm not the perfect girl everyone thinks," he said. Castagna lectured to a group of 200 high school students from Birmingham, Mich. this summer, and like most students from upper middle class suburbs, they have had little experien- ce coping with tension, he said. "For Birmingham girls, they don't think there's a world outside of Bir- mingham. Imagine that group coming to the University in a world they have not had to cope with. It can lead one to feel out of control and looking for ways to establish control," Castagna said. Weight is a concrete area these women can control, he said. Most bulimics he sees are excep- tionally pretty and emaculately dressed, obviously putting a lot of ef- fort into their appearance. " But it is all a show because these women have learned to hide their in- security, confusion, and distress by fin- ding a quick, but destructive solution. It seems ironic that women with the best upbringings, good grades, and promising futures are driving them- selves crazy with self doubt, said psychologist Judy Kronberg. "What seems to happen is somewhere along the line they learn that who they are and what they need or think isn't important. What they do matters," said Kronberg, who heads a self-help group for eating disorders at St. Josephs Hospital. Bulimics have been taught to be per- fect, well-behaved little girls, but they haven't developed a core or a strong base to cope with the academic and OCITIZI 2E~I ~BAO ,tr p tE r Quar.u I I4 I . I A MILY-- I -.Ii- -2 In--l- 'I 2 I nol e. . i-..Y t.3^ Crenshaw: Rockabilly roots ...... . . .- - - - - - -- - - - - .. .----. . .. e I 14 W ek . x ..t '*a' c$, 1 3. _ :,w. ,. :