It's a Dog Grab Dog World
So I am finally at the end of my rope with this "reality television" bullshit.
This weekend I saw a commercial for the upcoming show, The Swan on Fox.
According to the commercials, the premise is as follows:
Fox is taking on a group of (and I use their phrasing) "ugly ducklings"--a variety of OBVIOUSLY hideous and mutated women pictured in the commercial grabbing an extra bit of flab on their stomachs or grimacing at themselves in the mirror--and, with the help of plastic surgeons, transforming them into "beautiful swans." These women will undergo plastic surgery, and for three whole months they will be living in a mirror-free environment, not knowing what they even look like post-plastic surgery, the end result being that only the cream of the crop will rise to the top to compete in the beauty pageant of all beauty pageants and showcase their newfound glory...
The website calls it an "incredible opportunity" for women, describes how "each week feathers will fly as the inevitable pecking order emerges." As though they're doing these women a FAVOR. Perhaps this favor wouldn't be necessary if the media wasn't going so out of their way to be fucking up women's self-images and sense of self-worth in the first place.
Is anyone else bothered by this?
I mean, it's bad enough we have the media shoving visions of what the ideal female body is supposed to look like down our throats day in and day out, but now they've taken it upon themselves to point out to a dozen women that they epitomize what they consider to be "ugly ducklingness" WHILE ALSO convincing them that plastic surgery and being in competition on a reality television show is the way to beautify themselves and give them worth.
I mean, as women, we do get the shit end of the stick when it comes to our bodies, to each of our female bodies. I'm not trying to pull the boohoo gender card here when i say this either... But it's true.
beer, shaving lotion, cigarettes, hard liquor; it
sells diet plans and diamonds, and desire in tiny
crystal bottles. Is this the face that launched a
thousand products? You bet it is, but don't get
any funny big ideas honey,
that smile is a dime a dozen."
I mean, all you gotta do is open any magazine--not even a Vogue or a Mademoiselle or any of those trashy ladies mags, but just like, say, Rolling Stone or something--to see what I mean. Women are nothing more than bodies to look at, bodies to sell things. We're skinny little half-naked bitches pictured splashing around in the ocean to sell beer. Or we're leaning over with our asses hanging out, just to sell a pair of shoes.
And thing is, these bodies you see in magazines are processed. They're plasticized versions of what these women REALLY are--they're air-brushed, they're stretched and distorted to make these women look leaner, look taller, look skinnier, look like they're absent of flaws, stretchmarks, belly rolls. And this is the kind of physical bodily ideal that we're supposed to be hankering after--too bad we don't have some warner bros. bugs bunny cartoonist following us around with a big pencil and eraser, erasing our flaws every morning before we head off for work.
So what, you say. Stop reading magazines then!
Money flows into this country or that country, flies
in, practically crawls in, suitful after suitful, lured
by all those hairless preteen legs. Listen, you want
to reduce the national debt, don't you?
Aren't you patriotic? That's the spirit.
That's my girl."
Yeah, but then it's just commercials. Women prancing around in Victoria's Secret underwear dressed up as angels. Guys bonding by drooling over chicks exercising and sharing a beer. Commercials warning us that it's swimsuit season so we best get to dieting and exercising so we can squeeze into that cute two-piece and attract the stares of guys.
Fuck tv, you shout. Don't watch it then!
because those things wear out so quickly.
They don't make 'em like they used to.
Shoddy goods."
Then it's just movies, celebrities--women over the age of 50 suddenly vanishing from the big screen unless their bodies are being used as a punchline for Jack Nicholson (Kathy Bates in About Schmidt or Diane Keaton in Something's Gotta Give). Women like Kate Winslet becoming the focus of public scrutiny for her fluctuating weight.
Unless I cart myself off to the mountains and live a hermit's life, there's no escaping it.
And don't give me that crap about me playing the gender card. I mean, guys really don't have it anywhere near as bad when it comes to body-image. And I don't mean that in any sort of "I wish you had a fucked up sense of self-worth shoved down your throat every day" kinda way. I'm not holding it against them. I'm just pointing out a fact.
The male body is not used to sell sell sell. It's not distorted in magazines to show the latest fashion. It's not sucked-in cheeks of anorexia and diet pills. It's not.
I mean, it's just ridiculous. The female body is no longer a temple--it's a vehicle. A way of getting the guy--which is of course a female's ultimate goal in life--and living the female dream: married with children and a white picket fence. It's a vehicle for making money. It's a vehicle.
Our temples are desecrated day in and day out because of it, not just by others BUT BY OUR OWN SELVES!
And you know, I'm tired of hearing that "women should know better" and "the media can't make you think anything you don't want to think." Yeah, maybe this is partially true. But we are so inundated with distorted images of the female body that it is IMPOSSIBLE to walk out unaffected by them.
And I say this as an intelligent female. An intelligent female who can see through the bullshit enough to write this and criticize. An intelligent female who was raised in a family where physical appearance was not made to equal self-worth, where our parents told us that what is really important is who we are as women, as individuals, and not what we look like. A female who is independent, an individual, who is self-confident in who she is and what she does.
AND YET! AND YET!
I can sit here and honestly tell you that I've dieted (despite the fact that my weight pretty much fluctuates between 125 and 135 lbs for my 5'6" body which is right in the healthy weight-range). I self-consciously cover up my stomach around the fella I'm seeing, I curse my thighs and their stretchmarks. I weigh myself a couple times a day on the scale that sits next to my refrigerator. I wish that I had the skinny pubescent boy-body of Gwyneth Paltrow.
And yet I don't. And this is what tears you up inside--the disparity between the logic (what your brain tells you is right after you sit down and really think about it) and the subconscious (what you instincually, gut reflexively think when you look at yourself in the mirror or see a model-skinny chick). And this makes it even worse sometimes, being able to see that you've been duped, that you've got a fucked up vision of your body, that you want to lose 10 lbs, while at the same time being able to rationalize that yeah, it IS an ok vessel to be carting around in every day. You end up getting angry with yourself for thinking these things about what IS a beautiful temple--and then you pinch your waist-line seconds later and think that perhaps you could stand to lose an inch.
My sister who is model-skinny and gorgeous told me just the other week that she's upset because despite the fact that she grew up in a family that assured her constantly that looks weren't important and being a strong woman is, she finds herself a bit obsessed with vanity, a bit obsessed with how she looks day in and day out. Who said this warily and with hurt in her voice.
The female body is a vehicle careening down the road, brake-line snapped, heading straight for the bridge that's out up ahead.
And unfortunately, the female brain is rattling around in our sleek sport's cars or comfortable jalopies. And as much as you might be able to think things through--pump the brakes slowly, twist the steering wheel to the left--the bridge is still out and we're headed straight for it... Perhaps there's nothing left for the brain to do.
Except send a signal that will get us to open our big mouths and hope for SOME sort of change.
So drop Fox Network a line and tell them how ridiculous you think the premise of The Swan is--give them a piece of your mind:
Fox Network (national), (212) 822-7000**
Or write to your local newspaper, your ladies' magazine, give them your two cents on the topic. Do SOMETHING! Do SOMETHING, DAMMIT!
We do not wish to frighten or offend.
We do not wish to frighten or offend."
________________
**(And if anyone has better contact info, gimme a holler in my comment section.)
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