INTRODUCTION: MARKETING THE APPROPRIATE BODY – FROM PLAYBOY TO THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC
We
all speak and act from our bodies, but what we actually consider as “our” (or
other people’s) body is very much open to debate. The images shift and change,
and so does the perception of the “ideal” (or “proper”) body. (In some of the
most interesting recent examples, Benetton’s campaign of mixing “pure” imagery of
the advertised bodies with war and AIDS was widely criticized and the company
was forced to close some of its stores in Germany, for example. On the other
hand, Benetton has also included
people with disabilities in their advertisements, interestingly expounding and
developing the concept of the “appropriate body” [Zavirsek 1998].)
In
the world we live in, the body has become a commodity, a fetish. The
appropriate (“politically correct”) image of the body results in its veneration
(as an ideal) and promotes a whole set of values behind the image. Therefore,
it is interesting to look at the way(s) in which the body is promoted and
advertised: the body as an integral part of
consumer culture, and body as a construction.
One
of the popular images of the body today is the image of the naked female body
in reviews such as Playboy.[1] Of course, this imagery has wider
meanings both within the culture where it is produced and reproduced and within
the context of something like the “American way of life.” (Having said that, I
have to note that the Playboy has
increasingly become globalized, with
the regional editions sporting regional
beauties. Several issues in Brazil had to be reprinted due to a high demand, and my friends assure me that it
will happen as well with the August 1999 issue, which features a very popular
young actress.) The imagery from this magazine is interesting because it seems
to display the female body (usually girls in their late teens or early 20s) in
a culturally acceptable way. Somewhat surprisingly, I have found that many of
my American female friends do not object to Playboy (the fact that this magazine also has some
excellent stories and interviews helps), although they would not exactly put
the centerfolds on the walls of their rooms. They normally do object to more
“serious” magazines of the same type, like the Penthouse or Hustler. Since I find that the basic
imagery is the same, the question that seems to be worth asking here is: how is
this different imagery mediated? What is it within the specific culture that
makes some representations of the human (in this case, female) body more or
less “acceptable”?
The
answer to this question depends to a large extent on the prevailing cultural
and social norms within each culture or society.[2] While there is no universal criterion
regarding greater or lesser “acceptability” of particular types of imagery, the
fact is that many industries (from clothing to cosmetics) rely heavily on
certain types of images that enable them to sell their products (Rodgerson and
Wilson 1991). Note that the porn and soft-porn industry of the Playboy type is not even mentioned here
— as a matter of fact, it is quite unimportant and relatively benign in terms
of actual profit-making or market-influencing strategies.[3] The body, especially if it conforms to
current cultural and social aesthetic ideals (norms) becomes something that can
be bartered, exchanged, or sold. (Not only rented, which is one of the main
points made by the French feminist critics like Luce Irigaray and Julia
Kristeva.)
Anthropology
has been interested in the body imagery from the early studies on the “racial
types” of humankind. Most of these studies included a variety of pictures of
naked native women, but this was all regarded as purely “scientific.” Raymond
Corbey (1988) has studied the incredibly sexist and racist set of values behind
the images displayed on the early 20th century French colonial
postcards from Africa. I found the degree to which the women and girls depicted
in these pictures were dehumanized (and at the same time both animalized and
eroticized in an “exotic” fashion) almost incomprehensible (and so did Corbey).
But it shows very well and very clearly one way of dealing with images of
bodies. While the representation of the naked body is strongly discouraged in
Western contemporary culture, the “natives,” being symbolically desexualized
and deeroticized (by the very fact that they were and are the objects of study) can be depicted nude. Their sexuality is
abstracted, hidden, or disguised — depending on the researcher’s interests. A
friend of mine has in 1994 suggested to me that National Geographic actually serves as substitute for Playboy in her country (USA), since
“little boys can look at the tits of native women.”
The
question of the relationship between pornography and ethnographic imagery is
also mentioned by the performance artist Coco Fusco (referring to a
performance/installation piece for the 1993 Biennial Exhibition at the Whitney
Museum of American Art): “We wanted to connect pornographically inflected
voyeurism with ethnography — the voyeurism involved in turning us into
ethnographic objects on display.
Looking at naked women of color in National Geographic constitutes the
first pornographic experience for a lot of American boys” (Lavin 1994: 82). I think
that the main point is that “the women of color” in National Geographic or early anthropological textbooks are not
really considered as sexual objects because they are not entirely considered as
human – unlike the prevailing images of (mostly white) women in the reviews
like the Playboy.
The
question of power as well as of the
right to representation and self-representation should also be mentioned, since
in “borderline” areas (such as child sexuality) it is always very specific
groups (on the level of the society) that assume the right to prescribe the
manners of representation in all contexts. (For example, a photograph of their
own infant without clothes could take parents in the US to prison.) Since
sexuality is one of the areas notoriously difficult to control (due to the fact
that mostly occurs in private
environments, far from the public eyes), it is one area where authorities show
particular nervousness and a wish to prescribe everything (when should people
have sex, how, with whom, etc.).
But,
back to bodies.
Advertised
and idealized bodies are, of course, only ideals. Ordinary heterosexual males
(to take just one possible example) do not really expect to meet someone who
looks like Courteney Cox, Lara Flynn Boyle, Cameron Diaz or other glamorous
actresses/models. The image itself is somewhat reminiscent of a fairy-tale
plot: most (if not all) of us like to dream (or daydream) of the prince or
princess (on the white horse, on the white sailing ship, or in the white
Lamborghini, for example). Although not omnipotent in “reality,” we dream of
the day (or hour) of our omnipotence, when everything wished for can
materialize. The fact that we are well aware that these are only dreams does
not prevent us from dreaming about this. The image that is projected in and through
advertising is able to offer for a fleeting second (“girls, buy this, and you
can look just like me/ guys, get this after-shave and you can be with someone
just as beautiful as me” and the like) the sensation that is more than real (in
the words from a U2 song: “even better than the real thing”), the feeling that
crosses right into hyperreality.
The
answer to the question of what constitutes the “ideal” body is part of the
coding of what is "admissible" and what is "inadmissible"
in contemporary culture. The cult of
the body, at least as far as the late-Victorian era promotes and markets a
specific kind and shape of body: the firm, slender body (especially with regard
to a female one) becomes an ideal. “Working out” has become an important aspect
of contemporary life in Western industrialized societies, but this “required”
(in a cultural, not necessarily in a physical or biomedical sense) exercise is
part of the coding. The messages coded are that the people who "work
out" (almost necessarily middle or upper class, or the ones aspiring to
these classes) are somehow “in charge”: “I work out” (jog, do weights, etc.)
means “I am in control of my body” and, by extension, “I can control my
sexuality.” Everything is organized, systematized, put under control. As Susan
Bordo puts it:
Muscularity
has had a variety of cultural meanings (until recently largely reserved for
male bodies) which have prevented the well-developed body from playing too
great a role in middle-class conceptions of attractiveness. Of course, muscles
have symbolized masculine power. But at the same time, they have been
associated with manual labor and chain gangs (and thus with lower-class and
even criminal status), and suffused with racial meaning (via numerous film
representations of sweating, glistening bodies belonging to black slaves and
prizefighters).Given the racial and class biases of our culture, they were
associated with the body as material, unconscious, or animalistic. Today,
however, the well-muscled body has become a cultural icon; “working out” is a
glamorized and sexualized yuppie activity. No longer signifying lower-class
status (except when developed to extremes, at which point the old associations
of muscles with brute, unconscious materiality surfaces once more), the firm,
developed body has become a symbol of correct attitude; it means that one
“cares” about oneself and how one appears to others, suggesting willpower,
energy, control over infantile impulse, the ability to “make something” of
oneself.
(1990:
94-95)
Although
it is usually assumed (within the “general public” – that is to say, the
consumers) that the imagery of the body primarily has to do with images of the
female body, this is actually not the case. As Naomi Wolf wrote: “Advertisers
have recently figured out that undermining sexual self-confidence works,
whatever the targeted gender. Using images from male homosexual subculture,
advertising has begun to portray the male body in a beauty myth of its own.”
But the whole culture of body imagery can also be seen as a result of the relative affluence of
certain segments of society – poor or homeless people generally do not go to
gyms, and it is highly unlikely that one will encounter any of them happily
jogging through some park with their walkman on full volume.
For
men who have never done manual labour – and in these
post-industrial times, that must mean most of them – the gym is like a gleaming parody of proletarian work: arms, legs and torsos subjected to the punishing demands of heavy machinery. And in a weird reversal of the factory floor, the labouring serfs often deliberately increase their level of toil – programming their treadmills to even higher speeds.
(Kane 1996)
Of
course, in all fairness to Pat Kane, she does not seem to mind very much these
processes of body marketing and construction. When men are portrayed as sexual
objects, she seems to see it as, basically, men tasting their own medicine, and
even a possibility for enjoyment, as she wrote commenting on a fashion show:
“It was like an army of perfection: the geometric pecs like headlights on a
Seventies Cadillac; the hairless bodies and gloopy grins, loping behind the
fashion guru like some job-lot of white slaves. They looked like objects, and I
felt objectified by them. But what beautiful objects.”
The
newspaper columnist Suzy Menkes (1996a) observed that: “It is symbolic of all
the changes in women's role in the 20th century that the feminine, maternal
ideal of rounded breast and stomach should be replaced by broad shoulders, slim
waist and hips, flat stomach and well-muscled legs – all the features that have
traditionally represented virile masculinity.”
It
is not entirely clear whether in this sort of body construction one gender is
trying just to emulate the other as means of its own redefinition. Do women
actually want to look like men? Do men want to look like women? In a sense (and
contrary to expectations of some right-wing extremists or nationalists), the
image of woman as mother is simply not “in.” It is not fashionable enough, it
cannot be properly marketed and sold. Since the current trend and the fashion
in the Western world is going more towards the muscular (“manly”) body, critics
like the Luce Irigaray would point out that that actually means very little for
women's emancipation (“equal to what?”). Authors like Wolf consider the male
beauty myth even more dangerous than the female version, since (according to
her), males are very ill equipped to deal with insecurities and
self-depreciation that the outside constructed imagery can inflict on them.
Of
course, everything gets more consumer-oriented and market-conscious. Leading
fashion designers make their products now only for the ones who are “fit,” who
are in perfect shape. If you want to wear the latest fashion, you have to look
appropriate (or you have to look like the latest fashion trend) – “even in high
fashion, the body comes first” (Menkes 1996b). By portraying these trends
through some high-profile personalities (and many models, like Elle McPherson,
Linda Evangelista or Claudia Schiffer, have become pop culture icons for
themselves), contemporary designers can design and envision a new reality. (Not
that they actually believe that more people will conform to the “ideal”
standards – that is perfectly irrelevant. What is relevant is the image.) As an
acquaintance of mine, a fashion designer, explained to me several years ago in
London: “Almost all of these models were made for the women that wear size 12.
And almost no grown up woman can wear size 12.” This also produces an
interesting ambivalence in regard to the genderedness
of the body imagery – women who look more like boys, an androgynous imagery of
sexless sex objects.
The
marketing of the body, a reconstruction of the body in accordance with the
current standards and stereotypes, forms a significant part of the construction
of reality in the media. Of course, marketing the body in various forms has a
long history; but the main characteristic of it in the contemporary world is
its fetishization – the body becomes an object in consumer culture.
Contemporary consumer culture, as portrayed by Mike Featherstone:
uses
images, signs, and symbolic goods which summon up dreams, desires and fantasies
which suggest romantic authenticity and emotional fulfilment in narcissistically
pleasing oneself, instead of others. Contemporary consumer culture seems to be
widening the range of contexts and situations in which such behaviour is deemed
appropriate and acceptable.
(Featherstone
1991: 27)
But how does all this reflect to the situation in former communist countries? I will use two examples to demonstrate some models of body construction and consumption in Southeastern European countries. Both of these examples demonstrate how imagery related to gendered and sexed body has a lot to do with more general processes taking place in these societies after the fall of communism.
CONSUMING BODIES
IN THE EAST
One
of the immediate consequences of the fall of the Berlin wall and the subsequent
dissintegration of communism has been the immediate visibility of bodies in
public spaces. (Similar thing happened in Spain after the death of their
long-term dictator, Franco.) This visibility was first apparent in the
proliferation of magazines with erotic or pornographic content, culminating in
screening (on television) of hard-core pornographic films once a week (in
Slovenia and FR Yugoslavia[4]).
Of course, after several years of bliss, the market has become saturated and
many of the publications ceased to exist. It is interesting to note that the
porn or soft-porn magazines were the first ones to cross the borders of the
newly established countries, following the dissolution of Yugoslavia. It seems
that the pornographic images were the first ones to be deemed “politically
correct” by the newly established authorities. It is also interesting to note
that this imagery of the body exclusively has to do with female bodies – it
seems that representations of male bodies are still not very welcome in the
primarily male-dominated and male-oriented environment. Of course, this could
also mean that the majority of men in these countries (especially the ones who
dominate or regulate the market of visual images and representations) have
considerable problems with their own sexuality and quite a bit of anxieties and
uncertainties regarding their own “manliness” (are they “manly” enough? what if
they actually like some images of some male bodies?, etc.) – otherwise, they
would have no problems with representations of male bodies.
The spring and summer of 1995 in Slovenia were marked by, among
other things, a debate about an advertisement for a sun tan lotion: a poster
featuring the backsides of five different girls in bikinis. The accompanying
text was: “Each one has her own factor” (“VSAKA IMA SVOJ FAKTOR”), with the
obvious emphasis that the word "factor" could be interpreted as a
different level of sun block protection, as well as (on the other side)
stressing a difference between five backsides belonging to different young
women. On the other hand, the Slovenian word faktor (“factor”) also implies
something that puts something else into motion. Therefore, the image of five
almost naked backsides to a native Slovenian implies that each one of them has
something (i. e., a penis) that would put it “in motion.” Therefore, the poster
could also read: “Each one has her own penis.”
It
is easy to see why the campaign caused an outrage among some feminist groups,
articulated mostly through the Office for Women's Policy. Somewhat
surprisingly, the debate about the creation of the “denigrating imagery” of
women did not polarize public opinion: both men and women felt largely
indifferent towards the ad or just liked it. As a matter of fact, many of the
supporters of this ad were women! Some
women felt that there was something wrong with it only when specifically asked
to elaborate on the image of five female backsides on billboards all over the
country.
(This
line of interpretation was criticized by Irena Weber when I presented it in
September 1998 in Piran, but I have to note that I believe that the “male”
version of the advertisement which appeared last year – displaying five males
in swimwear from the front – further
strengthens it.)
Two
things seem to be combined here:
1/ The image of five almost naked parts of
female anatomy represents something “other” (just an advertisement), different,
belonging to a different reality from the one that everyday people live in. In
a way, the image belongs to a different culture, and as such does not threaten
the (actual or perceived) position of women. This is a culture of high paid
chief executives, models, actors and actresses, “high culture” which sharply
stands apart from what the ordinary people perceive to be “theirs.”
2/ The obvious fact that there is a gender hierarchy
in wider Slovenian society creates a
situation (well known from numerous anthropological examples) in which the
sub-dominant group identifies itself through the concepts and discourse of the
dominant group (or segment of the society). In this case, women (as a
sub-dominant group) perceive themselves through men's eyes (the sexual
symbolism inscribed all over the poster) and see nothing wrong with that. That
is the only way in which they are able to see themselves – and that is why
criticism coming from women's groups fell on deaf ears.
On
the one hand, there is a whole new reality (or hyperreality) being constructed
(and actually lived!) here: the reality of men's gaze as something “normal,”
“natural,” or even “neutral.” Although this reality is there (in "real
life"), its existence is not readily acknowledged – and the majority of
women would not agree with this statement. But feminist scholars certainly
would. How men see women becomes “the norm” – both for men and for women.
Another
example of an advertising strategy using imagery of sexed bodies is the
poster/billboard campaign in Croatia for the concert of the popular rock group
Zabranjeno pusenje (translates as: No Smoking). There were two matching
billboards for the concert that took place on October 17, 1997. Both featured
the question Do you like smoking? and an emphatic answer I love smoking! The
pun of the ad is in the fact that the word smoking (pusenje) is in Serbian and
Croatian used colloquially for oral sex (felacio). Hence, the faces of four
women (probably porn actresses) in various stages of intercourse (as deduced
from their facial expressions, as well as from the whole set up) on the one
billboard, and the faces of four men in various expressions of (orgasmic –
again, deduced from the facial expressions and from the whole set up) bliss
accompany the text that colloquially reads: Do you like blow job?, and the
answer is quite clear: Yes, I love blow job!
It
is again easy to see how this imagery provoked outrage among women's groups in
Croatia, but the situation is more complicated because the ad also refers to an
earlier, government-sponsored campaign to promote patriotism, which also
featured two lines of text: Do you love Croatia?, followed by the answer: I
love Croatia! This put the creators of this advertising campaign in a position
from which they could say that they were simply irreverently playing with
different references (sexual as well as political), and that they (just like
the popular Sarajevo-based rock group in question) should not be taken too
seriously. Their critics (usually liberal, left-wing intellectuals, as well as
many feminist groups) risk being accused of misunderstanding not only the art
of marketing in general, but also the puns involved (one could even say “a
general cultural context”) and the playfulness supposed to go along wth the
whole concept.
However,
the question of why it is so easy to use sexually explicit imagery in
advertising reaching large segments of population in this part of Europe
remains. It is obvious that any attempt to criticize this strategy fails. Is
the body in the East still very well hidden behind the veils of pornographic
imagery? Is voyeurism the only way in which the majority of population of the
former communist countries can look at the body? Finally, is the sexed body the
only thing (body) that matters? All these questions demand answers that would
go far beyond the scope of this article, but it seems that after living for a
very long time (45 years) in the system which reduced them to mere objects,
many people in former communist countries are still incapable of acting or even
perceiving themselves as subjects. Objectivization and passivization of the
body is a clear sign of the state of mind of people who are unable to act for
themselves, and who still (consciously or unconsciously) yearn for the time
when someone else (i.e., the state) was there to worry and make decisions for
them. To put it in simple terms: a great majority of citizens of Slovenia,
Croatia, Macedonia, and FR Yugoslavia can be reduced to images of four faces
who just “love blow job,” or five backsides with something that should put them
“in motion.”
In
any case, the immediate future for any marketing strategy using sexist (and
probably degrading) imagery in these countries looks very promising. Since
there are still relatively few bodies on offer, the market is very far from
saturated in this sense, demand is high, and any new campaign will provoke a
sufficient amount of curiosity at worst, and a total success at best.
[1] Or even on the Internet, more recently.
[2] The first question after I presented a paper on feminist discourses in Slovenia (Boskovik 1996) was whether pornography is a big problem in Slovenia — as it seems to be in other former communist countries.
[3] Just like the hard-core pornographic industry, which is highly publicized and frequently taken as an example of the ultimate degradation of women (“women as sexual objects”). However, in terms of images and values that this industry projects, as well as in terms of its actual influence and reach, compared to other, perfectly acceptable and “decent” industries, it is completely marginal.
[4] In the meantime, FR Yugoslav and Serbian viewers returned to the porn films on a daily (or nightly) basis.