Just when I thought they couldn’t get worse, something new and insidious surfaced.
Gawker wrote recently about AA’s looks-based hiring policies, leaking internal documents that discuss AA’s “New Standard”: “Classy-Vintage-Chic-Late 80s-Early 90s- Ralph Lauren-Vogue-Nautical-High end brand.” Their employees are the front line of the brand’s new image, and should represent the company accordingly.
So who are they looking for to help represent the new look? The more important question is (and always should be in cases like this), who aren’t they looking for?
“None of those trashy [black girls],” said one e-mail from corporate. “We’re not trying to sell our clothes to them. Try to find some of those classy black girls, with the nice hair, you know?”
Let me just repeat that for you for a second: “some of those classy black girls with the nice hair.”
Women of color have long been victims of a white beauty standard that others them. Black women in particular are generally represented as animalistic and hypersexualized. AA’s policy plays directly into those stereotypes, defining black women as either “trashy” (good) or “classy” (bad) based on outer appearance, as though a woman’s hair reveals all about her personality, politics, and ability to be a fashionable employee.
We’ve blogged about this before, but hair has always been a huge point of cultural contention, especially when it comes to a white-male-defined standard of beauty. Natural black hair has been seen in the past as ugly, lower-class, and even threatening. Other employee comments on Gawker suggest that when AA says “nice hair,” they mean “natural hair”—two employees were told to stop straightening their locks.
I’m sure American Apparel is patting itself on the back for this, like encouraging black women to wear their hair “naturally” is some kind of slap in the face to oppressive beauty standards. But really, all it’s doing is continuing a long history of white men telling black women how to look and act, lest they be deemed undesirable.
Why does anyone still support this cesspool of a company? Yeah, ethical manufacturing and no slave labor, blah blah blah, but at this point it’s clear that anything AA does for workers is coming not from a place of respect, but of pseudo-liberal principles that allow the company to earn cred with upper middle class white youth who think of themselves as so damn progressive.
AA can print “legalize LA” on as many pairs of brightly-covered briefs as they want, but it is becoming increasingly obvious that people of color, women, and especially women of color are nothing to this company but objects to be played with and adorned as the company desires.
P.S. CEO Dov Charney seems to be none too happy about the buzz this news is generating: employees are now bound by a confidentiality agreement regarding the hiring process. Any employee found giving information to media will be sued for—wait for it—ONE MILLION DOLLARS.
Beyoncé’s new video for her track, “Why Don’t You Love Me?” has been a hot topic of debate recently on a bunch of blogs we read.
The clip features Beyoncé as “BB Homemaker,” a character that pokes fun at stereotypical depictions of both the pin-up model and the seemingly-happy-but-secretly-unhappy 1950s/1960s housewife.
Beyoncé prances around in the video doing all the activities a housewife or pin-up model might do. Except, as a housewife she is quite inept. At one point she is doing some dusting in a sexy dress, but when you look closer, you realize she is dusting off a row of gleaming Grammy Awards. Then she’s trying to bake some cookies, but she’s actually just throwing flour around in her underwear. She also burns some kind of roast she’s cooking. And gardening seems to be more about looking fabulous than anything else.
It’s hard to criticize this video. My first instinct is to just enjoy and not analyze. But there are a few interesting issues that arise, whether Beyoncé intended to address them or not.
We're used to seeing white representations of 1960s housewives, such as Betty Draper
Over at Feministing, Ann argues that the video is transgressive because it depicts a black woman in two roles typically associated with white women.
Latoya at Jezebel, who responds to the post, claims Ann’s logic is flawed:
If these images are associated solely with whiteness, it’s because the history of women of color has been systematically erased, deemed unworthy of inclusion in the general framework of ‘the way we were.’ There were upper middle class black women in the 50s and 60s, even entire enclaves like Striver’s Row in Harlem. However, one did not have to be upper class, or even upper middle class, to be a housewife.
Although Latoya has an excellent point, Ann’s argument that a woman of color playing these roles is transgressive is still valid; the history of women of color has been systematically erased to the point that women of color are not typically associated with these roles in the mainstream media, so Beyoncé’s portrayal is therefore still challenging stereotypes. Here’s a black woman poking fun at roles the media has typically shut her out of, and doing it gleefully.
Plus, these are roles for women intended largely to please men, and Beyoncé is mocking the hell out of them. Set against the lyrics, this satire becomes even more meaningful.
Let’s take a look:
Now, now, now, honey
You better sit down and look around
Cause you must’ve bumped yo’ head
And I love you enough to talk some sense back into you, baby
I’d hate to see you come home, me the kids
And the dog is gone
Check my credentials…
I give you everything you want everything you need
Even your friends say I’m a good woman
All I need to know is why?
Why don’t you love me?
Tell me, baby, why don’t you love me
When I make me so damn easy to love?
And why don’t you need me?
Tell me, baby, why don’t you need me
When I make me so damn easy to need?
I got beauty, I got class
I got style, and I got ass
And you don’t even care to care
Looka here
I even put money in the bank account
Don’t have to ask no one to help me out
You don’t even notice that
…
I got beauty, I got heart
Keep my head in them books, I’m sharp
But you don’t care to know I’m smart
Now, now now now now now now
I got moves in your bedroom
Keep you happy with the nasty things I do
But you don’t seem to be in tune
Ooh…
…
There’s nothing not to love about me
No, no, there’s nothing not to love about me
I’m lovely
There’s nothing not to need about me
No, no, there’s nothing not to need about me
Maybe you’re just not the one
Or maybe you’re just plain… DUMB
Beyoncé is saying that she “makes” herself easy to love, but the guy doesn’t love her anyway. In the end however, she realizes she is worth loving for all her qualities—smarts, ass, class, etc., and that he is “dumb” for not loving her. In combination with the video, in which the character of BB Homemaker makes fun of all the things she is supposed to do to make her man happy, the message seems to be that the idea of trying to make yourself lovable for a man’s sake is ridiculous.
Of course, the delivery of the message isn’t perfect. There are some mixed signals in the video and in the lyrics. At times, Beyoncé is playing the role of the pin-up quite straight, gyrating in sexy outfits to prove she is a desirable sex object for other, wiser hetero men. Latoya at Jezebel really gets to the core of the issue when she quotes a post on Beyoncé she previously wrote for Racialicious:
“…the woman Beyoncé portrays always defines herself against a man, and any empowerment she receives is from severing herself from one man and into the arms of another or attracting more male attention.”
This is exactly what’s happening in “Why Don’t You Love Me.” Nevertheless, I have to admit that I loved this video and I think that as long as we watch it without expecting Feminism with a capital “F” from Beyoncé, it’s worth admiring for its comedy, its camp and Beyoncés bomb body. Not to mention, of course, her wicked voice.
A few months ago, comedian Chris Rock released a documentary that investigates the fanatical preoccupation with “good hair” in the black community. It’s a film that takes the viewers from neighborhood salons in Atlanta to rural villages of India, investigating the multibillion-dollar haircare industry. I’m a big fan of any documentary that examines the media and its influence on young women, and “Good Hair” was insightful, provocative and entertaining.
Just as Darryl Roberts’ documentary “America the Beautiful” comically tackled America’s obsession with bodily perfection, Chris Rock’s “Good Hair” comically tackles the black community’s obsession with impeccable locks. Rock talks to a wide variety of people, from celebrities like Raven Symone and Maya Angelou to everyday men, women, and high schoolers—none of whom think twice about getting a thousand-dollar weave or using relaxer in their hair. According to the documentary, worrying incessantly to make your ‘do “less black” is not just common in contemporary African-American culture—it’s expected.
The film focuses its attention on relaxer, the chemical used to make curly hair flawlessly straight. Celebs, like rap duo Salt ‘n Pepa and even the Reverend Al Sharpton, openly admit to using it. Relaxer has so much sodium hydroxide in it that it could potentially burn through one’s scalp, yet people continue to use it to achieve stick-straight hair. The documentary also explores the industry of weaves—wigs made of real hair that cost upwards of several thousands of dollars. These hair pieces, as the film points out, overwhelmingly come from Indian women who sacrifice their hair for religious purposes. The women who admit to wearing weaves show no shame around spending a month’s paycheck (or more) on a vanity item.
What causes this concern for perfect hair, the subjects say, is the desire to “look white.” Comedian Paul Mooney declares in an interview, “When your hair is relaxed, white people are relaxed. If your hair is nappy, they’re not happy.” While seemingly outrageous, this claim is, sadly, probably true.
While I thought “Good Hair” was a fascinating and hilarious look at one aspect of black culture, I wish Rock had more carefully examined this insecurity of looking white. Is it bad? Dangerous? What causes it and how can we stop it? Even toddlers, yearning to have straight hair, get swept up in this physically and emotionally damaging cycle—one girl in the film, just four years old, was getting her hair relaxed. The movie ended up being a comedy that simply rolled its eyes at the issue. The message seemed to be “this is just how it is; you can’t change it.”
When I voiced this concern to an African-American former professor of mine (who rocks the natural ‘do), she told me matter-of-factly that “hair is to black women what weight is to white women.” That analogy is dead on, I thought. Obviously you can’t draw a line strictly down the middle, but just as black celebrities spend thousands on weaves and extensions, white celebrities grace the covers of tabloids after spending thousands on personal trainers and state-of-the-art diets. Both ideas of unachievable perfection trickle down to average women, women who believe this perfection must be the norm.
Have you seen “Good Hair?” What did you think? Are you a black woman, and do you feel an unstoppable necessity to make your hair look like something it’s not? Do you think the comparison between black women and hair and white woman and weight is a legitimate one? Why do black women seemingly desire to have “white” hair? Leave your thoughts in the comments.
As we found out from The Root, Mattel is releasing a new line of Barbie dolls that are getting a lot of attention. The new line, called “So In Style,” or “S.I.S.” are supposed to be African-American and to have more “authentic” facial features. The S.I.S. dolls are sold in pairs, with one adult doll and one young doll, in order to model a mentor relationship.
What makes this new line of black dolls interesting is that each character has a different skin tone, representing the variety of skin tones that black women have. Also, the dolls have straight, wavy, and curly hair. Props to Mattel for including these differences, but while it may be a step forward in representing racial diversity, it is far from far enough.
The S.I.S. dolls are just another example of how America loves to see African-Americans: as white as possible. The women most regarded as beautiful, who likely serve as popular role models for young girls, have light skin, more Anglo features, and, of course, are very thin. Beautiful black women with darker skin, more “ethnic” features, or with curves or muscles get nowhere near as much attention or praise for their beauty. What kind of message does that give to black girls and the rest of society?
In terms of hair, the S.I.S. line includes one adult doll with curly hair and a young doll with afro-puffs (not pictured). The rest of the dolls have long, wavy or straight hair — just like white Barbies.
Of course many black women do have hair like this, but most don’t grow it that way naturally. There are six different dolls — why not six different kinds of hair? To me, this lack of representation just reaffirms the notion that “nappy” or “kinky” hair is bad, while promoting long, sleek hair as the most (or only) beautiful option.
African-American women have a variety of hairstyles, natural and otherwise, that should be represented in this line. How would dolls with dreadlocks or interchangeable hair weaves fly? Would they be marketable? Would they be offensive? I don’t know. But I do think that they would provide some much needed representation for the differences within black women’s hairstyles and practices.
In the range of skin tones for black women, I would say that these dolls come in very light, medium light, and medium skin tones only. The darkest one is actually not so dark at all.
It pretty much goes without saying that Barbie dolls are going to be ridiculously skinny with impossible proportions, but if they must be the supermodels of toys, I’d like to see dolls that look like Alek Wek too.
(Left to right:) Black supermodels Tyra Banks, Iman, Alek Wek, and Kimora Lee Simmons
Seeing more representation of females with dark skin, natural hairstyles, and various facial features and body types on screen, in print, and in toys will not only help African-American girls and women feel more beautiful and appreciated, but will also provide a much needed additions to the set of characteristics our society holds as beautiful.
-Sabrina
Sabrina is a student at the University of California, Santa Cruz, studying Community Studies and Sociology. Her area of focus is cultural politics and she is interning with About-Face for a field study. Sabrina is especially interested in women’s roles and representations in mass media.
From the moment the Obama family moved into the White House, our newest President and his wife became instant American icons. A beautiful and intelligent African-American couple, the Obamas exist under a social microscope with the media reporting on virtually every aspect of their lives.
In the midst of all the Obamamania, one of the most interesting news trends is the increasing interest in Michelle Obama, often subjecting her to a level of attention beyond the normal scrutiny reserved for a first lady.
Michelle Obama has essentially become public domain, with every aspect of her body up for discussion, from her clothing choices to her physical body itself.
The interest in Michelle’s clothing is like most relationships we have with public figures. There is a fun and escapist quality in watching her wardrobe choices. Mrs. Obama has a huge fashion following, often referred to as “the new Jackie O”, she inspires blogs that track her every outfit, and coffee table books celebrating her style. She makes headlines whether she’s wearing designer Narcisco Rodriguez or J. Crew, and even her penchant for sleeveless frocks inspires nationwide controversy.
Like the obsession with her wardrobe, the attention given to Michelle Obama’s body feels inspired by the public’s voyeurism (the press and public often critique the bodies of female celebrities), as well as a desire to be like Mrs. Obama. From Fitness Magazine to Glamour, magazines everywhere are promoting articles on “How to Get Michelle Obama’s Arms!” Very interesting. But what does this say about us?
Is it strange that the press is focusing so much on Mrs. Obama’s clothing and body, and rarely mentioning her other life accomplishments? Or are women simply inspired by an extraordinary first lady who always looks fantastic?
The desire to dress and look like Michelle Obama is understandable, she is a beautiful woman who promotes a healthy body image, which the public is clearly responding favorably to. But here are 4 facts about Mrs. Obama that get a little less press coverage:
Michelle was born and grew up on the South Side of Chicago and graduated from Princeton University and Harvard Law School.
Michelle met Barack Obama when they were working at the same law firm, and she was assigned to mentor him.
She promised Barack that she would support his decision to run for President if he quit smoking.
She is a strong and down-to-earth mother who values her children remaining as normal as possible, keeping them involved in play dates, school, and sports activities.
Mrs. Obama’s body is something to be desired, but I would like to know that as many women are inspired to attend Ivy League schools, go to law school, support their husbands, and become strong mothers because of her example, too. Obviously, Michelle is truly a positive female role model, and the media should treat her as such…with or without those toned arms.
If you have seen popular music videos recently, you know that women are often wearing little clothing and dancing provocatively around men. The lyrics to these songs can be just as oversexualized, if not more so. Although there is no shortage of music featuring women in these second-class roles, there is a brave new popular rap song and video that goes in a new direction.
That song is “Independent” by Webbie. Despite the fact that the song focuses mainly on material objects (i.e. money, flat-screen TVs, and cars), the overall message of the song is that independent women are strong and can take care of themselves. It is refreshing to see a male artist unabashedly come out with a music video that depicts women in a positive light. My favorite line in the song is:
She’s got her own house, she’s got her own car, two jobs, work hard, you a bad broad.
The song’s music video has a similar empowering message. The video shows women in classrooms studying current events and dreaming about their futures. Women are shown as doctors, business executives, and even the first African-American woman president of the United States.
Although this music video has empowering aspects, it still isn’t ideal as far as representing women goes. Women are still shown wearing small clothing and dancing for the camera. I would prefer that women’s breasts weren’t popping out of their clothing when they are in a classroom, but at least they are in a classroom and not a bedroom. I would also prefer that women weren’t shown as dancing objects in music videos, but the camera isn’t focused solely on her gyrating hips — instead, it is focused on her face.
Is Webbie’s music video the answer to all of our prayers for positive images of women? Maybe not, but it is definitely a step in the right direction.
If you want to let Webbie know what you liked about “Independent” and encourage him to make more music videos like it, send him a message through his MySpace page.
- Ashley
Ashley Yee has worked with elementary-school-aged kids for more than three years and will be a graduate student this coming fall. As a former About-Face intern, Ashley strongly believes in empowering girls and women through educating them and boosting their self-esteem. Ashley worked on the About-Face Yay Scale campaign in July 2008.
You’re reading the About-Face blog, so I’m gonna guess that you’re interested in the various messed-up ways women and girls are portrayed in media, and how it can really damage our self-esteem and self-respect. Well, now there’s a movie about it! It’s the new documentary “America the Beautiful,” and you should really go see it.
I saw the documentary last night in San Francisco, and I almost lost my s*&# watching the editors of Elle Girl and Seventeen magazines talking about how they need to show the thin body ideal only, or they’re “out of a job.” Really — no care for the fact that you are contributing to eating disorders, self-hatred, and general depression in young women? And the answer: No, really, none at all.
And then there’s Gerren, a 12-year-old model whose mother lets her wear next to nothing on the catwalk, but won’t let her wear a bra to school because she doesn’t think it’s appropriate. Through my work with About-Face, I’ve spoken to more moms than I can count who give their daughters the very same mixed messages.
There are just so many pertinent, poignant bits in this film, one being that the whole thing flows really well and nails the problem of our culture’s beauty obsession in a way that no somewhat-smart woman can deny. And two being that it’s an African-American man who made the film and who includes many other African-Americans who truly have something to say.
If you look carefully, you’ll spot two About-Face posters in the film! (I wish About-Face had been around to be in the movie!)
Really, I could go on and on. But I won’t.
Bring your mom, bring your friends, bring your sister. Hey, bring your brother. Cuz guys need to know this stuff too. (Plus there are quite a few bits about men and their body image too.)
Speaking of body image and stereotypes of women, it’s not all about thinness/fatness, is it? Take the Tyra Banks Show from today, April 24. Black women of various skin shades were on the show talking about whether light-skinned black women have things easier, and the answer seemed to be “yes.”
Adding her very sensationalistic viewpoint, one medium-skinned woman said, “I don’t want my son dating dark-skinned girls because I don’t want him bringing home any dark-skinned grandbabies.” Luckily, her 12-year-old son said he hates when she says that, because she comes off as “prejudiced.” And another darker-skinned woman finally told her lighter-skinned sister (and I mean sister, by blood) that she feels her lighter-skinned sister has had the advantage during her life. She asked “When is it my turn to be called pretty?”
These two women are sisters. That’s Tyra on the left.
here’s an ad that illustrates the skin-color issue pretty clearly, albeit with some ad-speak mixed messages thrown in. We show this ad to teenagers in our workshops and ask, “How does this advertiser want you to feel?” So tell us all, what do you think?
(click to enlarge)
Now, I’m not black, so I have no right to make judgments about how black women treat each other, and I can’t see it from their perspective. Maybe our black women readers won’t want to comment because they don’t want to discuss their community’s “dirty laundry.” But we can all learn something from this struggle. So if you’ve checked out the videos of the show, or you have anything to say on this issue, please post below so we can open up the conversation.
accordingly.
Just as Darryl Roberts’ documentary 
