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A Woman’s Worth
BY JAVACIA N. HARRIS
I USED TO RANT ABOUT the exploitation of women all the time. Then I started hearing women say they felt good about posing nude and flaunting their goods in music videos. Many business tycoons and entertainment executives who use women’s bodies to promote their product or brand even claim what they’re doing is not exploitation, but empowerment. They’re not trying to degrade women, they claim, they’re uplifting us.
And if the women working for them feel the same way, then I figured I should just shut up.
But then I started to wrestle with certain questions. Just because someone loves what they’re doing, does that mean they’re not being exploited? And isn’t it time for the discussion to go beyond empowered versus exploited and focus on the bigger picture? If more industries objectify women for profit and use “female empowerment” as part of their marketing strategy, what could this mean for women as a gender and feminism as a movement?
I love watching wrestling. No, I don’t mean Olympic wrestling. I love the choreographed, over-the-top, soap opera-style professional wrestling found on shows like World Wrestling Entertainment’s
RAW, ECW,
and
SmackDown.
People are usually pretty shocked when they discover my dirty little secret. I can’t blame them. You wouldn’t expect an in-your-face feminist to watch shows in which the female wrestlers (or WWE Divas, as they are called) often engage in bikini contests, sexy dance competitions, and other things that don’t have shit to do with wrestling.
Though I gripe constantly to my husband about things like this, I keep watching. It really is a soap opera, and I want to see what happens next.
Recently, though, the word “empowering” started to be thrown around a bit too much and my gag reflexes finally kicked in.
RAW,
which is WWE’s most popular show, had a series of commercials in which well-known entertainers talked about why they were fans on the show. One of the most frequently aired commercials featured Leyla Milani, a model from the hit NBC game show
Deal or No Deal,
saying:
“The Divas are hot. They’re not afraid to break a nail, get their hair pulled, to fall on their butt and do exactly what the guys do, sometimes even better. As a woman, you watch that and you’re like ‘Wow, I can do this too.’ I feel empowered. I feel like I can go out there and take life by the horns. It’s nice to see a woman take charge like that. It’s hot.”
I’ll admit that one of the reasons I tune in to
RAW
is to see WWE Divas like Beth Phoenix. Nicknamed The Glamazon, Phoenix is ridiculously strong. She once picked up two female wrestlers at the same time and held them on one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She’s also one of the show’s few female wrestlers who can actually, you know, wrestle. Many of the WWE Divas are picked for the shows through the annual WWE Diva Search, which is about two grades lower than a beauty pageant—but Phoenix is a trained wrestler with skill and strength.
Unfortunately, though, no matter how cool it is to see Phoenix do her signature backflip into the ring, I can’t call the WWE empowering. Most of the strong and athletic female wrestlers like Phoenix are typically cast as the antagonist in the show’s storylines, while the less-talented sex kittens are presented as the good girls for whom the crowd should be cheering.
One of the things that irks me most about the show is the fact that once a female wrestler becomes popular, she is encouraged to pose for
Playboy.
And once a Diva gets a
Playboy
gig, she often becomes one of the most celebrated women on the show (obviously, this doesn’t “empower” female fans like me, but it sure does help sell magazines).
After her
Playboy
photo shoot, WWE Diva Maria Kanellis was quoted as saying, “Posing nude was very empowering. WWE Divas show our strength in the ring, but we show our sex appeal and sweetness in shoots like this. I’m very comfortable in my own skin. I think every woman should be.”
Of course we women should feel comfortable in our skin, but do we need to pose for
Playboy
to prove that we do? Do we really need to put our bodies on display for someone else’s sexual pleasure (and Hugh Hefner’s economic gain) in order to embrace our sweet and sexy side (if we even have one)?
Don’t get me wrong, if a woman wants to strip, pose nude, or whatever else, it’s her prerogative, but don’t be oblivious about what’s really going on here. No matter how good you feel about your body or how comfortable and fun your photo shoot may have been, a
Playboy
spread is simply old-fashioned objectification of women, not a new wave of feminism. If a woman does undress for a camera, it’s important that she face the reality of what she’s doing and make sure she’s self-aware enough to know why she’s doing it.
Maybe Kanellis really did feel empowered by her photo shoot. Plenty of women say they feel a sense of power when men long for them sexually. But is this real power? And just because an individual woman enjoys something like posing nude doesn’t mean that it’s a feminist act that’s empowering for women as a gender. A
Playboy
spread is not an example of a woman embracing or enjoying her sexuality. Women are in these magazines to help “readers” enjoy themselves sexually. The woman is not a participant, only a tool, and for me, there’s nothing empowering about that.
In 2007, Dennis Riese began to get some press for his efforts in female empowerment. Riese is the chairman and CEO of the Riese Organization, a group of corporations that own and operate a number of restaurants and real estate, primarily in New York City. One of his eateries is the Times Square restaurant Hawaiian Tropic Zone, which also has a Las Vegas venue.
Riese wants the world to know he’s a feminist. He was quoted in
The New Yorker
as saying, “I’m such a feminist. I love women and I believe in them.”
I’ve never visited Riese’s restaurant, but according to its website, customers at Hawaiian Tropic Zone are served by waitresses sporting bikini tops and sarongs. There’s a nightly beauty pageant for the waitresses. The
New Yorker
article also revealed that the overhead lights and the salt and pepper shakers are shaped like breasts, and that the pageant winner got $50 and a tiara.
“Women like sexy,” Riese said. “Talk about empowerment and feminism! There’s nowhere offering women sexy in the way they would like it to be—classy sexy!”
Now, some of you prudish feminists out there may be thinking that there’s nothing empowering about serving burgers in your bra. You may be thinking that having to endure your customers voting on your body and looks every night is demeaning. But Riese—who’s making money on these bikini-clad waitresses—says you’re wrong.
“Beautiful women use these attributes of theirs to get up in life,” Riese said. “I don’t think these girls are feeling exploited. If a bunch of guys are coming in and ogling them, it’s because they’re guys and those are girls! And that’s part of our biological nature.”
There’s a chance Riese actually believes his female empowerment speech (though I wouldn’t bet on it), and there’s a chance the women who work at Hawaiian Tropic Zone love their jobs. Nonetheless, the fact remains that the business world continues to treat women’s bodies and body parts like merchandise (salt and pepper shakers, no less), and all the “I’m such a feminist” talk in the world can’t cover that up.
Even worse, Riese’s empowerment rhetoric trivializes and even hinders the young-feminist movement.
I have no right to define a person’s feminism for them, but Riese’s statements not only imply that “beautiful women” should use their bodies (instead of their brains) to get ahead in life, but also reduce today’s feminist movements to nothing but a fight for a woman’s right to show off her boobs.
Yes, I believe that feminists should work to create a world where women love their bodies, embrace their sexuality, have sex when they want to, and (gasp!) enjoy it. But that can’t be accomplished by serving chicken wings in skimpy attire. Sure, a woman should have the right to do this if she wants to, but she should also have the right to live a life free from violence and sexual assault. She should be able to live in a world where she’s not told she’s less of a person if her ass, thighs, and breasts aren’t a certain size.
Empowering women to embrace their sexuality is also about teaching young women that their worth isn’t determined by the wholeness of their hymens, and encouraging them to be responsible about their sexual choices and protective of their reproductive health. So while Riese is busy “empowering” women with bikini tops and beauty pageants, my feminist friends and I will be busy working on these things.
I have another confession: I like the Pussycat Dolls. I mean, I’m not president of their fan club or anything, but some of their songs are on my iPod because they really get me pumped when I’m cleaning my condo or working up a sweat in the gym.
But even I was shocked when the creators behind the pop group and their reality show started touting the PCD movement as feminist.
And it seems I wasn’t alone. In a March 2007 article in the
Deseret Morning News,
Scott D. Pierce wrote:
“On the surface,
Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search for the Next Doll
is just another stupid, derivative, vulgar and lame reality show. But when you listen to the people who produce the show and see how The CW is marketing it, it becomes utterly disgusting. . . .
‘[T]he people behind the TV show went out of their way to tell TV critics recently that this was a show all about ‘empowering’ women. The narration at the beginning of tonight’s premiere . . . intones, ‘The Pussycat Dolls are all about female empowerment.’”
I’ve never watched the show, which was later called
Pussycat Dolls Present: Girlicious,
but I am pretty familiar with the lyrics of the PCDs’ hit song “Don’t Cha.” In fact, it used to be my cell phone’s ring tone for my ex-boyfriend. (Yes, I’m ashamed.) I have also interviewed PCD lead singer Nicole Scherzinger, and she came off as smart and down-to-earth. And yes, I like dancing around to their songs when I’m dusting, but this is not some grand feminist act. The line “Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?” doesn’t exactly sound like a quote from a bell hooks book.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly not anti-sexy—I’ve been to my fair share of striptease aerobics classes. But in the PCD “movement,” the Dolls’ scantily clad, gyrating bodies, not their talent, seem to be doing the heavy lifting. This isn’t really the “feminist” message I think should be sent to the young women and girls who make up a large part of the PCD fan base.
Look, if you want to tell a man to loosen up your buttons or that you can freak him better than his girlfriend can, go for it. But don’t think that you’re necessarily liberating all of your sisters in the process.
There’s something else happening in the music industry, however, that’s frightening me much more.
It’s not news that misogyny runs rampant in much of the rap industry—the words “bitch” and “ho” are practically synonymous with the words “woman” or “girlfriend.” In videos and CD booklets, women are often seen draped over male rappers like accessories, just part of the rapper’s bounty of money, cars, and bling. Most female characters in many mainstream rap songs and videos are cast as strippers, or are at least shaking their asses like them.
Nonetheless, some so-called video vixens have stated that despite all this, this industry has empowered them.
Actress, TV personality, and former video model Melyssa Ford had this to say in her essay “Calendar Girl” from the book
Naked: Black Women Bare All About Their Skin, Hair, Hips, Lips, and Other Parts
:
“I am the highest-paid video girl to date. I’ve endured all the snide comments and ignorant remarks from people who presume to know me because I’m on their television screens and in the pages of their magazines. But I’m not the promiscuous twit I’m often mistaken for. I am a businesswoman who has used videos to launch a multimedia career. My product is me.
Besides being the lead girl in hip-hop and R&B videos, I am a sex columnist for a men’s magazine. I star in my own DVD. I’ve hosted television shows, and I’ve produced my own calendar, which I sell on the Internet. My job is to sell fantasy and perfection. When the cameras go on, I detach myself and play the sexy vixen who will turn a nigga out.”