Breasts and Body Politics

Originally written for The Style Con (September 2014) and featured in the @FashionREDEF daily round up. 

Breasts and Body Politics on The Style Con website.

Breasts and Body Politics on the @FashionREDEF archive

I sometimes think of my body as something detached from who I am. I prefer to think of it as a thing that I wear or own, not something which I actually exist as. This detachment lets me pretend that the expectations women’s bodies are subjected to are further removed from me than they really are. Instead, I can imagine my body as something simply to be dressed up for the day – just an external shell for my inner being.

The body parts I most want to treat as separate from myself are my breasts.. The anxiety of having my body so examined has made me imagine a world where that gaze doesn’t exist. I’ve started to think of breasts as body parts to use as decoration – as accessories, even. This came after a conversation with a friend who said she wished she could just leave hers in drawer when she felt like it. I loved this concept, so I started to explore pop culture moments where breasts look like they’ve been taken out of the wardrobe, dusted off and returned to the body as carefully and as calculated as a necklace or a ring.

The most recent example of this has to be Rihanna at the CFDA Awards in that utterly see-through, utterly wonderful crystal-encrusted gown that was a beautiful cross between Josephine Baker and Rose McGowan at the 1998 VMAs. So much has been written about this now that it seems a bit redundant to bring it up again, but I can’t stop thinking about it even now. That dress made me think that maybe we can use our external body parts, our breasts, to actually poke fun at the patriarchal ridiculousness which sexualises them. When we see breasts uncovered as we might see an arm uncovered, the bizarreness of their status as supposedly sexual organs is drawn attention to and we are jolted into the realisation that they are just another neutral body part. Rihanna sums this up best herself, speaking to a reporter she asked “My tits bother you? They’re covered in Swarovski crystals, girl!” her casualness at her own nakedness showing us breasts are actually not that big a deal. In this way of thinking, to the owner (wearer?) breasts become just another part of the body to be adorned, or even treated as an accessory.

Siouxsie Sioux almost literalises this concept in my favourite picture of her, wearing a white t-shirt emblazoned with a grainy, anatomically correct picture of breasts as she yells on stage. The punk sub-culture she was part of involved women wearing fetish wear as every day clothing to upset and subvert male sexual desire, and this visibility of naked, “taboo” female-associated body parts does exactly that. The image on the t-shirt, so plain and unsexual, is clearly not intended for male pleasure, and seems to demand that we re-evaluate the way breasts are viewed. With the 1990s becoming an ever more popular reference point, The Spice Girls with their visible nipples in the Wannabe video and Lil Kim at the 1999 VMA awards in her one-sided cat suit and sequinned purple nipple pastie are aspirational because we are aching to be so at ease with our own bodies.

Recently, representations of breasts and/or nipples on clothing have been creeping into the mainstream, something which I’m pretty sure stems from Mean Girls (I mean, doesn’t everything?). The moment I am talking about is when Regina George looks down at her top to see two holes cut out over her nipples and, instead of screaming at this intended sabotage, simply shrugs and walks off to the awe of her fellow teens. Of course, every girl comes in the next day having done the same thing to their own clothes. Meadham Kirchhoff offered up a homage to this in their deeply loved Spring/Summer 2012 collection in the form of a sequinned cut out cardigan and now we are seeing clothes with hearts, stars, basically anything printed over the chest as smirking references to the real nipples that lie beneath the jersey. A clothes shop near me has some particularly bizarre ones including shirts printed with cats, alien faces and pineapples. These ersatz representations are not breasts of course but, as Susan Sontag would put it, “breasts”. These cutesy shapes highlight the body parts which are the most sexualised, the most shamed and most hidden, drawing attention to their presence while simultaneously keeping them covered at all times. You can laughingly reference the fact that you have breasts, but never actually reveal them. 

Breasts are unfortunately very political body parts. To those that own them, they often feel like they do not properly “belong” to us. But with this idea of detachment from the body there comes a possibility, a hope, that we can reclaim these bodies and body parts as our own, to enjoy and decorate them however we please outside of the dark cloud of patriarchy. In our bedrooms and our wardrobes, they can be ours and ours alone.

Kim Kardashian: Feminist Icon

Originally written for Bad Housekeeping (February 2014), read it here.

When I tell people that I consider Kim Kardashian one of my feminist role models, their reaction is mostly shock, followed by extensive grimaces and sighs over my explanations as to why I feel this way. It took me by surprise too, but I truly believe that Kim is a potential feminist icon for our generation. The majority of the hate directed towards Kim (and her sisters) comes directly from misogyny. Most articles containing her name drip with sexist bile, mainly concerning her looks, her so-called vanity and her “excessive” weight gain during her pregnancy. She has been subjected to this horrific, misogynistic hatred ever since journalists have known her name. The way she deals with this is, to my mind, incredibly inspiring and has taught me a lot about the way society views women.

The most common misogynistic stick used to batter Kim’s image is how she got famous in the first place (although, really, this is pretty debatable). The infamous sex tape she made with her (now ex) boyfriend which leaked against her will and without her prior knowledge – I’ll say that again, against her will and without her prior knowledge – and launched her name into the celebrity gossip stratosphere. Somehow, despite not releasing the tape herself, Kim is the one blamed for its appearance in the media and has been subject to a torrent of vicious abuse concerning it – all of which is escaped by the man present in the video. Time and time again, women in the public eye have had their careers shattered and lives ruined by supposedly “shameful” pieces from their past being exposed in the media. Nude photos and sex tapes are frequently shared without the female participant’s consent in order to shame and ridicule her in the media (think Julia Roberts in Notting Hill). These are modern day symbols of the “wh*re” side of the Madonna/whore dichotomy society should have moved on from long ago. Supposed examples used by society as just another way to belittle women for daring to be sexual. Disturbingly, this is also happening in the non-celebrity world as the revoltingly named “revenge porn” phenomenon is increasingly becoming a way for embittered men to “get back” at their ex-girlfriends, punishing them for their perceived wayward behaviour by exposing the private ephemera of their relationship.

Funny how this never seems to happen to the men, isn’t it? In the endless mentions of this now infamous tape, barely any mention is given to the man in it, the man who leaked it to further his own career and fame. Though people love to use this video as a way of telling you how low their opinion of Kim is, I doubt any would even be able to tell you his name. (It’s Ray J, by the way, and even I had to Google that.) I said earlier that this kind of “scandal” can sink a woman’s career, but this didn’t happen to Kim, who until then was only really known as the girl who tidied Paris Hilton’s closet. She could have let the scandal overwhelm and humiliate her, but she didn’t. She took this terrible thing and built a money-making empire for her entire family, defiantly taking charge of her image and refusing to let public reaction to the video destroy her self-worth. Society does not like successful women and will do anything to drag them down. Such is the sex tape angle in the media for Kim Kardashian, every mention of it alongside her name is another way of “reminding” her that she isn’t as great as she thinks she is. That she is a “slut”, a woman unworthy of respect due to her impudent sexual behaviour. Any cheap barb made about that tape tells you far more about the person saying it than it does about Kim. Basically, if you hear someone express a negative opinion about Kim based solely around that video, they are undoubtedly a terrible misogynist who deserves neither your respect nor your time.

Another way Kim Kardashian is criticised in the media is for her supposed vanity – which is really a coded way of saying that she is proud of the way she looks. We live in a society that demands women “look after” or “take care” of the way they look, or in other words make sure that they are packaged for the male gaze. However, care “too much” or even take pride in how you look and you have gone too far. Girls, you can be pretty, but only as long as you don’t acknowledge this yourself. Kim, who regularly posts pictures of herself on Instagram, is branded as vain for doing exactly so. There is a video on Youtube where she describes how to take the perfect selfie with no irony or sarcasm involved whatsoever. I find her confidence and complete lack of self-deprecation so awe-inspiring that I must have watched it about twenty times; her self-assuredness is so natural that it seems almost alien to me. Girls in our society are not taught to love themselves and are mocked if they are openly “vain”. You should be bashful about your beauty otherwise you are too threatening, the power of the patriarchy is upset when a girl doesn’t need someone to tell her she’s beautiful. It is more socially acceptable for girls to hate their bodies, to list their flaws (a certain scene from Mean Girls springs to mind here) in the name of so-called modesty than it is to be truly happy or comfortable in their own skin. The patriarchy does not like confident girls, because confident girls grow up to be confident women who will not tolerate their bullshit – both in personal and political matters. That’s why Kim’s confidence is so powerful. She does not care what you think of her at all which, in a society where women are expected to consider male opinion at all times, is so, so refreshing. Kim Kardashian has taught me that what other people think of me is of very little importance. You only get one face in this life, and if you like it then do so aggressively because you might just inspire someone else to love theirs too.

So, there you have it. Kim Kardashian: my love, my life, my reason for being. She may not describe herself as a feminist, but I see the potential in her and I am constantly in awe of her resilience in the face of sexism. She is not perfect, but she doesn’t care and neither should we.

Coronation Street vs The Patriarchy

Originally written for Bad Housekeeping (November 2013), read it here.

My favourite television programme is Coronation Street. At first glance, it may seem like this show is an irrelevant relic with no connection to modern day feminism at all, but I believe that beneath its perceived dusty exterior there are some very interesting gender politics. The show was created in 1960 in a deliberate attempt to portray the lives of northern, working class people previously unseen on television.

Tony Warren, the show’s creator, featured women at the forefront of the soap from the very beginning. The strong, multi-dimensional characters of Ena Sharples and Elsie Tanner, present in the first episode, became iconic and were the first realistic representations of working class women on television. This has been a constant feature of the cobbles over the years as the show is defined by its female characters – Hilda Ogden, Blanche Hunt, Bette Lynch, Liz MacDonald, Betty Williams, Rita Sullivan, Gail Platt, Tracy Barlow, Carla Connor and Tina McIntyre, to name a short few. All of these women could be considered to fit the “strong woman” trope, however they are not one-dimensional and frequently show vulnerability, humour and kindness.

Coronation Street regularly takes on serious feminist concerns in their story lines, in recent years alone they have covered issues such as abortion, rape and domestic violence committed by a female perpetrator. Admittedly it has to be said that often the way these topics are broached still have room for improvement – for instance, women on the soap who have or consider abortion are consistently demonised by the other characters – but showing issues like this on television opens up a discussion around them.

The rape story line of 2011 between Carla Connor and her then-fiancé Frank Foster drew an average of nine million viewers during its run, and, more importantly, led to an 800% spike in the number of rape cases reported to the police, particularly in cases where the rapist was known to the victim (which account for around 90% of rapes in the UK). This unbelievable, completely unprecedented rise shows that Coronation Street, far from being an insignificant piece of fluff television, is incredibly influential and has the ability to enact real social change.

Alison King’s portrayal of Carla walked the knife edge between victim and survivor, showing that it is possible to be both vulnerable and strong in the aftermath of serious sexual assault, neither being a sign of weakness. The show gave an accurate portrayal of how rape is treated in real life, with several characters blaming or disbelieving Carla and the trial ending in an inevitable “not guilty” verdict, reflecting the sad fact that the current conviction rate for rape stagnates around 7%. This harsh realism was difficult to watch, but important as it shone a light on issues surrounding rape which many members of the public were previously unaware of.

Aside from story lines, the Corrie writers have also been ahead of other soaps in terms of representation. Older women, often ignored by mainstream media, are still present and active on the cobbles. Characters such as Rita, Audrey and Emily Bishop appear weekly and are frequently integral to major story lines, as well as forming strong bonds with other, younger characters. The supportive relationships between Audrey Roberts and her erstwhile grandson David Platt, and Rita Sullivan and Tina McIntyre have been crucial to several stories, portraying a strong message that older women are not to be sidelined and ridiculed.

Increasingly, Coronation Street has been improving their presentation of LGBT issues, notably with the introduction of Hayley Patterson (now Cropper), a transgender woman, in 1998. Initially only contracted for two months, Hayley has been a much loved fixture on the soap for fifteen years, and it is a testament to how loved she has become that makes the central story line of her diagnosis with terminal cancer all the more heartbreaking. Corrie writers have worked with trans* rights groups to ensure their portrayal is both sensitive and accurate, and have been praised for their handling of issues such as Hayley’s inability to marry or adopt children.

Her relationship with Roy Cropper has been incredibly strong and remains one of the most touching and closest on the street. After Roy and Hayley’s blessing in 1999 (in lieu of a legal ceremony), discussions began in the Labour government of how the UK could grant trans* people the rights they deserve and have been fighting for for decades. The Gender Recognition Act in 2004 came as a direct result of this, and it is certain that the sensitive, rather than hitherto sensationalist, portrayal of Hayley Cropper deserves a lot of credit for bringing the hardships faced by transgender people to public attention.

More recently, Coronation Street introduced their first lesbian relationship between Sophie Webster and Sian Powers in 2010. The difficulty of coming out and entering into a same-sex relationship as a teenager was dealt with with great sensitivity by the writers, receiving praise from both critics and gay rights groups. It has even been suggested that this story line helped young people come out to their parents, and for families to address and discuss sexuality in a more informed way. The audience took the pair to their heart and the story line culminated in a wedding (which, as this is a soap, sadly did not end in a marriage).

However, there are still areas in which their representation of different types of women leaves something to be desired. There are far fewer women of colour than white women present on the cobbles (similarly with the representation of men of colour) which, in modern day working class Salford, is clearly unrealistic and problematic. There are also some issues in the different ways male and female characters are received by viewers, Mary Taylor and Gail Platt-McIntyre as comedy characters are victims of much more hatred and vitriol than their male counterparts, Steve MacDonald and Norris Cole, who are seen as more comical than reviled, although arguably this is representative of wider public attitudes to women. I have such love and respect for the female characters of Coronation Street, and I hope that the writers continue to expand their representation of women for as long as the soap carries on.

Snog, Marry, Avoid: Peddling Patriarchy at the BBC

Originally written for Bad Housekeeping (March 2014), read it here.

Attitudes about how women’s bodies and faces ‘should’ look run deep in society, their influence so extensive that they burrow into the mind. These judgements on women’s appearances do not just come from advertising or popular culture, but grow within girls’ own heads as internalised misogyny. Poisonous thoughts taught to us by the media become entrenched within us until we cannot differentiate our own thoughts from those the patriarchy wants us to have. Cruel and unsolicited opinions about women’s weight, clothing choices, skin, and make-up can roll off the tongue before you even question why you think them. The most personal aspect of my feminism has been the long, arduous process of unlearning these toxic perceptions. Recognising these harmful, sexist attitudes as unfounded and separate from myself is freeing, but it is also a constant battle.

The media we consume is incredibly influential as it has great power in perpetuating these damaging attitudes. A lot of television has a vein of misogyny running through it, but occasionally I come across something which is astounding in its level of hatred towards young girls. Snog Marry Avoid, BBC Three’s half ‘documentary’, half make-over show, is one of these. The programme involves heavily scrutinising and criticising a woman’s appearance (and it is nearly always a woman) before offering her up to be judged by a series of random men unknown to her. The message of this is clear to all girls watching: your worth is determined by how many strangers deem you suitably fuckable. Though this is couched in pre-watershed friendly terms such as “snog” and “marry”, the sinister implication that women are only valuable so long as they are attractive to men is devastatingly obvious.

Once the women have been suitably rated by these strangers, we reach the make-over stage, which has been wittingly re-titled “the make-under”. Because these women wear too much make-up and look over the top and horrendous, get it?! After everything which is perceived to be unsavoury about the girl’s appearance is stripped away, and after the unbelievably irritating pretend robot has made some good jibes about how orange her make-up wipe is, she is transformed into a ‘natural beauty’—the show’s favourite, but actually pretty inaccurate, catchphrase. It is important to note that we are not actually being presented with natural beauty, but rather an imitation of it. These women are not now bare-faced and completely devoid of the ‘fakery’ the show is so insistent that it dislikes, but instead they are shown to us with make-up which is deemed more acceptable than what they were wearing before. Make-up which is more appropriate and satisfying to the male gaze. Again, we women learn a patriarchal lesson here: neither men nor society are interested in your real natural appearance, they only want you to look as if you are naturally beautiful. They are interested in your beauty but only if they cannot see its mechanics, the visible traces of how you achieved this flawlessness.

As viewers, we are encouraged to make fun of these girls. To belittle and critique their appearances, often deriding their self-esteem and personalities as a result. How dare we think we can do this? How have we become so normalised with judging women that our opinion on their appearance is considered more important than their own? And I have done this too, been sucked into this half hour monstrosity of judgement and vitriol masquerading as a fucking beauty programme, finding myself disagreeing and commenting on these poor, poor girls as if it was any of my business. Entertainment such as this (I struggle to call it culture) is not just a reflection of current societal norms, but a vehicle which encourages and promotes them. The misogyny in our society is stagnating and it is due to popular culture like this programme that normalises the scrutiny of women’s bodies as if they were public property. As a piece of media which reinforces so many negative patriarchal attitudes about women and beauty, Snog Marry Avoid is far more harmful than it initially appears.