ome women find “empowerment” in reclaiming words like “bitch,” divesting them of their misogynistic connotations, and transforming them into positive monikers women can use for themselves and other women. Sex-positivism, a result of third wave feminism, encourages women to explore and celebrate their sexuality, a much-needed departure from the treatment of women’s sexuality as non-existent, or at the least something to keep quiet about. Women’s empowerment suggests a radical alteration leading to the dismissal of old conventions, replaced by a glorification of their polar opposites as emblems of the “new woman.”
We live in a society that has evaluated women by the sum of their parts (namely, reproductive organs and perceived attractiveness) for centuries. A general movement away from this type of thinking is vital. Nevertheless, one of the most troubling aspects of what many are calling a “post-feminist” society is the cooptation of this empowerment by a sexist trope masquerading as pro-women sentiment.
Take, for instance, women’s magazines. Cosmopolitan, perhaps the preeminent offender, proclaims it exists for the “fun, fearless female.” And perhaps it once did. Cosmo was founded in‘86 as a “family magazine,” emphasizing fashion and housekeeping tips for women readers. Through the turn of the century and into the’30s, the magazine featured short stories by authors such as Willa Cather, Edith Wharton, and Jack London. However, it wasn’t until the mid-1960s that editor Helen Gurley Brown (who had authored the influential Sex and the Single Girl in’62) took helm of Cosmopolitan and pushed it in a more “women-friendly” direction; articles devoted to fashion, make-up, and, perhaps most boldly, sex. In the1970s, Cosmo began its now ubiquitous cover shoots featuring scantily clad young women. Gurley Brown, by then a fairly controversial figure, was hailed as one of the forerunners of the sexual revolution for her frank acknowledgment of the heretofore-unseen aspects of women’s sexuality. Gurley Brown dubbed the “single girl” the “Cosmo girl,” and the rest is history.
The legacy of Gurley Brown’s almost 30-year reign as editor-in-chief has left its mark. The familiar covers of starlets suggestively lifting the hems of satin purple slips that grace supermarket aisles are emblazoned into our cultural psyche. The “Cosmo Girl” seems to brazenly proclaim her sexuality, her autonomy, and success—and yet she is a deeply disturbing figure.
Mass-marketed female empowerment masks regression and coercion with woman-friendly appeal. A peek at Cosmopolitan’s articles will demonstrate that the “fun, fearless female” is more concerned with what her male partner thinks of her than what she thinks of herself. (Not surprisingly, Cosmo almost always presents a heteronormative world, where the only mention of homosexuality is found in sensationalized confessionals, as “What it’s Like to Love a Woman” in the January 2009 issue demonstrates.) Recent issues carry taglines presenting variations on a single theme: “how to please your man.” A November 2008 cover featuring Jessica Simpson asks the all important question—“Sexy vs. Skanky”—and promises to reveal “The trick to attract hot guys like crazy.” Such articles at first blush seem to promote female sexuality, but in actuality they rely solely on a view of sexuality narrowly defined by men, patently ignoring the possibility that a woman might be satisfied and happy without a man.
On cosmopolitan.com, an article entitled “Get Him to Commit” advises women to “take up an extreme sport” such as karate “to create a life outside of his orbit.” Besides being inane and unintentionally hilarious, this advice carries the troubling implication that a woman cannot simply initiate a conversation with her partner concerning the status or future of their relationship. It is disconcerting that Cosmo advises its readers to engage in outlandish ploys in order to communicate with someone they (hopefully) love. The author of “Get Him to Commit” relies on the assumption that men can’t stand commitment (while trapping that guy is the central thing on women’s minds): “When it comes to discussing the future, men can yak up a storm—but only if the topics are limited to our careers, sports, or the new kung-fu flick we want to go see this weekend. Shift the focus to relationships, and all speech function grinds to a halt. The throat gets parched. Dizziness ensues. We men start loosening our collars: Is it just me, or is it always this hot in here?”
The gender stereotypes propagated by Cosmo, such as the belief that men are content with the company of sports and beer while women are neurotic and marriage-crazy, are damaging to women’s conceptions of themselves—especially when you consider that, until recently, it was the number one publication read by college students.
However, it is not just Cosmopolitan that furthers this false brand of empowerment. A bit more subtly, Dove’s “Campaign for Real Beauty,” launched in 2004, exhibits the same problems of many women’s magazines, namely in its hypocritical and nebulous message. The campaign aims to “serve as a starting point for societal change and act as a catalyst for widening the definition and discussion of beauty. The campaign supports the DOVE mission: to make more women feel beautiful every day by widening stereotypical views of beauty.” The pervasive ads, featured on billboards and in print, most famously featured a row of women of different ages, shapes, and ethnicities in white underwear, with the tagline: “Oversized? Outstanding?” or “Wrinkled? Wonderful?”
Superficially, such an effort seems admirable; in a society that promotes decidedly unrealistic and ageist standards of female beauty, a company that defies such conventions should be a breath of fresh air. However, the fact of the matter is that Dove is in the business of selling things—namely, beauty products. Even if the company hopes to buck the system, so to speak, it’s hard to view the campaign as much more than a coldly calculated marketing ploy. Women are bombarded by media that play into their insecurities, from reality shows to advertisements for multitudes of dieting methods; Dove has found a niche in countering those messages, and as a result, profited greatly.
I am always suspicious when a major corporation pretends to have altruistic aspirations as its aim. So it’s unsurprising that I found myself harboring the same misgivings about this campaign and its earnest appeal to “real” women, whoever they are, so I did a little investigation.
Unilever, Dove’s parent corporation, has been accused of exhibiting less than commendable behavior. In India, the company was pushed into withdrawing advertisements for its skin lightening cream (a popular product in that country, where light skin is revered) portraying downtrodden dark-skinned women who gained popularity and self-confidence after using the beauty potion. Unilever also owns Axe, the cologne company famous for its sexist ads depicting the “Axe Effect,” which usually consists of hordes of women being magically attracted to a man after he uses Axe body spray. They don’t seem too concerned with sending messages that don’t prey upon women’s insecurities or treat them as playthings.
Is it fair to blame Dove for the actions of Unilever, which owns hundreds of other companies? Maybe not. But combined with the doubtful nature of a “Real Beauty” campaign launched by a company that couldn’t make money if women were completely satisfied with their physical appearance, it reinforces the thought that this
brand of empowerment is just about putting money in corporate pockets.
Both Cosmopolitan and Dove claim to try to empower women, yet it’s never quite clear what this “empowerment” hopes to accomplish. Behind the brazenly sexual Cosmo girl and the liberated Dove woman, there seems to be little substance. What would real empowerment look like? I suspect it wouldn’t derive from mass-media or multi-million dollar corporations. Self-esteem has turned into a commodity, one that some female consumers are much too eager to purchase. Sadly, true autonomy and self-worth that originates within the individual is hardly profitable. As long as exploiting women’s perceived insecurities will rake in cash, the cult of “empowerment” seems to be going nowhere.
