Seeing their shape in a shop window could lead many to exercise

OKay, I completely take Isabel’s point about the lime velour: it is pretty hideous. and I understand what she’s trying to say about the dangers of ‘normalising’ obesity, given all the inherent disadvantages of being overweight — not least the huge cost to the NHS and, of late, the risks in relation to Covid-19.

That said, I don’t think the mannequin in question is dangerously obese. It’s just representative of a certain body type, one that is still all too rarely reflected in the fashion industry.

a strong, muscular woman who doesn’t fit the cookie-cutter slim aesthetic more commonly idolised in the West, who doesn’t have tiny bird-like wrists and whippet-thin legs, but who has a sturdy build and a decent set of curves.

Women like tennis player Serena Williams, for example. Being big is not always about being fat, and it’s helpful to remind ourselves of this.

Even when I was at my thinnest — a UK size 10, in my teens and 20s — I still had wide shoulders, solid calves, big feet, strong hands, a short neck. How I hated my big, strong body. How I longed to be an etiolated waif like the girls in the magazines. The result was that I went on increasingly extreme diets, confusing my metabolism to the point that it eventually broke.

Now my thyroid doesn’t work, my hair’s all fallen out and I only have to look at a slice of toast to put on half a kilo. Oh, the irony.

The world is very unkind to people who aren’t the perfect shape. There is a general perception that, if you are plus-sized, you are somehow lacking in moral fibre or stupid, or just generally subnormal.

Fat is an insult: fat cow, fathead, and so on. Unless you’ve experienced it, you can’t know how hurtful and how soul-sapping it is. Especially if you’ve fighting a daily battle to keep the weight at bay.

Society tends to assume that overweight people are that way through conscious choice. But the vast majority are not.

Obesity is not a moral failing, it’s a mental and physical condition that develops over time for a variety of reasons. Depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, pregnancy, hormone imbalances, genetics — these can all be contributing factors. It’s a complex, emotive subject and it’s different for everyone.

So while some see in that mannequin a form of fat surrender, a ‘dangerous’ incitement to obesity, I see honesty and pragmatism. Of course that body swathed in limegreen velour isn’t perfect. But whose is? Doesn’t mean that a woman that size and shape shouldn’t aspire to be fit and healthy and take exercise. On the contrary: isn’t that what we’re always told we should do?

you have to start somewhere. as someone who has always exercised, regardless of my weight, I’ve long bemoaned the fact that 99.9 per cent of leisurewear is designed for people who already have the ‘perfect’ body.

Leggings that make your thighs look like sausages, tops that enhance your bingo wings, fabrics that cling and cleave to every extraneous lump and bump.

It’s demoralising enough walking into a gym when you hate your body. Even harder when everything is two sizes too small.

It takes a lot of effort to embark on a healthier lifestyle and for many, seeing something approximating their body shape in the window of a fitness shop in London’s Regent Street might just prove the motivation they need.

and finding clothes that are a decent fit so you don’t feel ashamed and embarrassed as you tentatively step on that treadmill for the first time could make all the difference between persevering — or just giving in and disappearing for ever down the back of the sofa.

It’s pragmatic. We all have to start somewhere