This ad by Wonderbra rides on the coattails of this notion. The woman in it declares her independence from domesticity and appears unfettered by any ideas of domestic obligation. In this way, she appears to adopt the mantra of earlier feminist movements. However, although she distances herself from the image of the domestic woman, she does so without acknowledging the subtext that women should have roles as autonomous being, roles that do not rely on or pander to men. Rather, the ad reiterates the idea that women must have performed these domestic duties with an eye towards snagging a man, and proffers adhering to an image of sexiness as a suitable alternative.
Here is where the ad converges with and supports Levy’s hypothesis that the modern hypersexualization of women cannot simply be read as empowerment. Indeed, I would argue that the ad’s imitation of feminist rhetoric is insulting to the tradition it is mimicking. It twists the ideals of a movement that allowed women to move beyond the walls of the domestic sphere to betray one of its core values: that a woman does not need to appeal to a man to prove her worth. Instead, it suggests, the new modern woman does not need to be chained to domestic affairs because she can attract men with her sexual appeal instead.
To deconstruct the ad from a practical perspective, the trade-off between the ability to cook and sexy, perky breasts seems, if anything, a step backwards. Any independent person, woman or man, needs a certain skill set to thrive on his or her own. I would argue that being able to cook is among those skills, and should certainly feature more prominently than having extreme cleavage. However, the ad feeds on women’s struggle to escape domesticity and turns the ability to cook into a measure of female worth. It suggests an omnipresent (presumably male) judge; one that would hypothetically be displeased with her lack of culinary skills, but can be placated by copious amounts of cleavage.
In this way, the ad subverts its attempt at a feminist message because it subtly tells the (female) viewer that they are still obligated to impress a man. However, while our mothers and their mothers before them used domestic chores—here conjured by the ability to cook—to prove their worth to men in their life, we have broken free form the domestic. Instead, the ad suggests that our ability, our right, to flaunt our sexuality allows us a new kind of freedom.
It is this kind of rhetoric that Levy works to unravel, and I think her observations are also pertinent here. Although sexuality is played as a kind of power, it is a power that still operates within a thoroughly patriarchal framework. A woman’s sexual power as it is presented here is completely dependent on a man finding her attractive, and as such, she is obligated to appeal to certain standards of sexuality if she is to wield it. Certainly, the woman in the ad appeals to these standards: blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs, and big lips. As Levy notes, the rise of raunch culture has led us to “endlessly reiterate one particular—and particularly commercial—shorthand for sexiness.” (Levy, p. 30) She is exactly the type of woman the Girls Gone Wild crew would deem a 10 and then convince to flash the camera.
Furthermore, the ad suggests that this porno-ized version of female beauty is an acceptable currency of self-worth. As Levy notes, “sexiness is no longer just about being arousing or alluring, it’s about being worthwhile” (Levy, p. 31), a sad fact that the ad has capitalized on. Although the ad makes a nod to the days when a woman’s worth seemed tied to the cleanliness of her house or the taste of the meal she’d just prepared, the viewer is invited to see that notion of femininity as old and outdated. New women, modern women, the ad suggests, have no need to for those domestic trappings—their sex appeal makes them irresistible and elevates them above such concerns.
Indeed, looking at the woman in the ad reiterates the equation of sexiness and power. Her stance is aggressive, not demure or coquettish, and she returns the viewers gaze in a way that weakens the illusion of voyeurism. However, in the context of the ad, her gave is more accusatory than alluring. The ad seems to feed on the anxieties of a presumably female viewer, one who seeks to prove her worth in a world where standards of physical beauty have morphed to become unattainable by many. ‘Can you cook?’ the ad seems to ask, and more importantly, ‘can you afford to not look this good if you can’t?’ As Levy points out, women are being shepherded to a narrow definition of sexuality and told that their worth as women and as sexual beings is tied to their ability to conform to it. Since the days of the domestic goddess have largely come to a close, the ad suggests that they must prove themselves in other ways.
Unfortunately, the ‘other ways’ that raunch culture suggests, and which this ad capitalizes on, consist mainly of becoming an object of eroticized visual pleasure. It is acceptable that the woman in the ad cannot cook because she instead offers herself up as a sexual object. Even the way her hands are positioned on either side of her breasts seems to be offering them up as proof of her value. Her breasts therefore become a symbol of fetishized sexuality, sexy even when removed from a sexual context, and the dehumanization of female sexuality is taken a step further: she is no longer an autonomous, sexy being, but rather an amalgamation of sexy parts. Her sexiness is removed from her sexuality and is instead articulated through eroticized images.
Levy argues that raunch culture can be defined by the way in which certain designations of sexiness have become the cultural currency of self-worth. This point of view, and the problematic implications it has for women, are typified by this ad, which posits that a women’s value is inextricably tied to her ability to fulfill a sexual role defined by the patriarchy. It offers the female viewer two options: be constrained by domestic obligation or become sexy enough to rise above it.
Unfortunately, the sexiness defined by this ad and raunch culture in general is exclusive to the point of being disempowering. The worth of a human should not be reduced to his or her ability to fulfill a designated, gendered role, just as one’s sexuality should not be reduced to his or her ability to fit certain standards of physical beauty. The sexual ‘power’ suggested by the ad is not in the hands of the female subject. Rather, it is governed by the men (and women) who defined the standard of beauty she perpetuates.
References:
Levy, Ariel. Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture.
No comments:
Post a Comment