Sexism in America: Holiday Edition

Feministing had a little article on sexism in the media this morning, which reminded me about my ongoing war with Victoria's Secret. For those interested in the background, the Feministing article was a summary of this WSJ article giving examples of blatant sexism in the media during the Clinton campaign. Save yourself some time and just watch this video from the Women's Media Center aptly titled Sexism Sells But We're Not Buying It.

Look, I understand that sex sells, and the market isn't JUST for men. Women buy into the sex as well. Think men's cologne ads.

But back to Victoria's Secret. Last year at Christmas time, Victoria's Secret was sending me catalogs every 5 days. As I enjoy their products, I flipped through a few of these. In one, I found a girl dressed in a baby doll lingerie getup. The outfit itself was satin, deep blue, had fluffy white trim. Embarrassing, sure, but in and of itself, simply tacky. What was deeply disturbing and personally objectionable to me was the model they chose and they pose she struck. The model was the same one pictured above. She was kneeling on the seat of a straight back chair, bending over the back. She was shoeless. Back arched. Legs together, toes pointed toward the ceiling. I think the style was meant to represent the intersection of haute couture and high school musical innocence. Her image was blatantly stylistically sexy and decidedly underage. It was a pin up for the pedophile market. It was so bad that I wrote Victoria's Secret an email about it. Me. Little-miss-could-give-a-shit-what-people-do-in-their-bedrooms. This was just not okay and it shouldn't have been okay for anyone else IMO.

Do you doubt that a 20 yo model can be made up to look pre-teen? Take a look at this. This model is made to span 10-60 years.

But no doubt, sex sells. Fashion mags. Women buy them. Teens buy them. Ads like this appear in them regularly. We don't even flinch.

Cause God knows there is nothing I'd rather do that roll around with my legs apart with sand making its way up my hoo-ha. But make no mistake. If I could get an ass like this by drinking Cabana, I'd be downing barrels of it this afternoon. But this ad says something different to a 40 yo woman than it does to a 16 yo woman. In fact, a 40 yo woman might look wistfully at the ass, but trust me, she's gonna take one look at those shoes and say "let's see her walk in sand in those". But a 16 yo woman looks at this ad as an objective for herself. She buys into it lock, stock, and barrel. If she doesn't look like this, all is lost. A 16 yo doesn't get that NO ONE LOOKS LIKE THIS. Not even this lady, whose every blemish and dimple on that ass has been air-brushed to perfection. Of course, it means something entirely different to a male. Although, in all honesty, I think the ad screams that the woman you are with can look like this with enough alcohol in your system.

And women are not innocent here. Who do you think these ads were intended for?

Try as I might, I can't find anything inherently wrong with this ad. I mean, he isn't doing anything inherently sexual. He just IS sexy. But really, someone needs to tell the advertising business that banana hammocks haven't been sexy since 1972.

That' s just WRONG. I think what bothers me most about this ad is the idea that bad fashion as gone international.

I think the question becomes, as it was for me with the Victoria's Secret ad last year, who is the intended audience for these ads? I think largely it is teenagers and very young adults. Teenagers buy Calvin Klein boxers and Victoria's Secret PINK lines. And that I find terribly disturbing. That young girls are taught that their value lies in straddling that thin line between innocence and slut. That men are taught their entire sexuality should lie in a perfect body. If you aren't a show-er, you better be a grower. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.

If sexism sells and we don't like it, why are we buying it for our kids? If I was a parent, my child wouldn't be stepping foot inside a VS, and I certainly wouldn't be buying them a gift card there either. Good thing, I guess, that I'm childless.

I am a Feminist from Way Back

My earliest memories are of Monroeville, Pennsylvania. We moved to the Pittsburgh suburbs when I was a toddler. My father, recently graduated from college, had gotten a job at US Steel. For a brief moment, it looked as though I wouldn't be saddled with the accent of my parents. Alas, it didn't happen. We moved back. Nonetheless, the first enduring memory I have was of the fallout when my brothers lit a bit of wooded area behind our rented house on fire. I remember Halloween that year. I remember visiting my grandfather's horses at a local farm there. Fleeting memories. We lived in the rented house while our house was built in Irwin.

What does all this have to do with being a feminist, you ask?

I attended my first birthday party in Irwin. I was in kindergarten. My best friend was my next-door neighbor, Gina Stewart, who in reality, was a spoiled, insufferable little brat. We didn't hang that much. I did a lot of playing alone in our flat, unlandscaped back yard or swinging on the swing set. But Gina and I went to the party together with my "real" best friends, Randy and Roger Oates (the twins), but of course a girl wasn't allowed to have boy best friends back then. In any event, I have no idea who the party was for. I do recall what seemed like endless row upon row of tables with paper covers, each with a place setting and a child's name, and a party hat. I found my place and my hat. It was a nurses cap.

A nurse's cap.

*rumpled brow*

A nurse's cap?

But I didn't want to be a nurse. Nurses sucked. Slowly but surely, it began to sink in. I had gotten a nurse's cap because I was a girl. The boys had policeman caps and fireman caps and doctor caps. The girls had nurse caps and teacher caps that I think had rulers and such on them.

I was being indoctrinated into a sexist society in kindergarten.

What amazes me more is that I refused to wear the hat. I rejected the assumption. If they wouldn't give me a police hat or a fireman hat or a doctor hat, I wouldn't wear a hat at all. I remember some female adult, possibly the mother of the birthday child, encouraging me to wear the hat. I flatly refused and it was dropped.

I'm sure the last thing a mother hosting 30 children needs is an irate four-and-a-half year old feminist on her hands.

It was quite possibly my first instance of social disobedience.

PS: Whoa! I can't believe I found this. Here is exactly what I'm talking about. The kid holding the baby in this video is wearing the hat. It is also from the 60s.

What Did You Just Call Me?

The other day, Pat Buchanan and Chris Matthews got in a shouting match (about 2:09 into this video) when Buchanan refered to Palin as a "gal". Matthews rightly said that the appropriate term for a female vice-presidential candidate is not a "gal", you refer to her as a "woman". I can't believe I'm saying this, but Chris is right.

So to avoid these kinds of injustices in the world from ever happening again, I am going on record as officially co-opting the word "gal" to describe women.

Listen up gentlemen.....you are no longer allowed to use this word to describe me or my sisters. Got it?

I'm allowed to use this word to describe other women (not that I would because there is nothing so apt to finger you as a geezer as saying something as unhip as "gals"), but, you know, we have a shared cultural experience that you just wouldn't understand by virtue of having a "package" between your legs.

Oh we are still allowed to call you guys, dudes, dogs, pigs, man-sluts or anything else we like, but the term "gals" is off limits.

You want to see the wrath of God? Let Pat Buchanan use the G-word when half the nation has PMS.