Each year, a woman in my Representations of Gender and Pop Culture class declares she likes to wear lipstick, heels, and fishnets and then asks, “Is that ok?”
It is a great question. The men and women in my classes are experiencing the awakenings of a critical feminist consciousness and very frequently that consciousness contradicts many of their daily or hourly behaviors and choices. They feel ill-at-ease, worried, and as one student put it, “like something has to give.” So, is it the high heels and makeup?
Not necessarily, I tell them, and refer to a quote from Heather Brook’s 2008 article “Feed Your Face” (from Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies). Brook states, “The point, for me, is not so much whether women embrace of reject mascara but to make visible and scrutinize the ways and means by which wearing or not wearing mascara (or burqa, or body hair, or any other gendered aspect of appearance) is rendered meaningful,” (p. 155).
I then inwardly applaud myself for my great answer. There is no right or wrong way–just think about they why and the politics of actions. Easy.
Yet. . . What does this mean? What does it look like to “render something meaningful”? How does it work and when exactly is it relevant? For a few years I have been proffering this response with little consideration to these follow up questions or sympathy (much less empathy) for my students’ experiences with this direction. Enough directing and enough neat responses, I thought last week. Do it. Render meaningful.
Below is my first experience doing just that.
Morning routine: This involves a number of things, including getting dressed and “ready” for the day. “Ready” for the day, for me, usually involves makeup, and as I stand before the mirror, poised, with mascara wand in hand, I have to ask myself what I am doing and why. I lay out my cosmetics. All are “cruelty free”–when it comes to animals that is. Almost all carry another theme in a promise to make me look younger in some way. Younger? I am 32 and a professor. I am therefore often very conscious of the ways in which my students and colleagues respond to me and how they perceive my expertise and credibility, especially given my age. I work hard to be taken seriously, to be professional, and to combat the idea that I may not know what I am talking about or have the chops to tackle big projects because I am “young” in my field.
Yet I have a strong desire to make myself appear younger physically, or at least, to mask traditional signs of aging such as gray hairs and fine facial lines. Certainly, this desire is a product of a culture valuing youth and beauty, and a culture wherein “old(er) people” (especially older women) are often invisible, at least in media. What am I doing when I put on makeup plastered with promises to hide the signs of aging, and perhaps, in so doing, hide the outwardly representations of my experience and expertise. After all, that permanent crease between my brows is the physical manifestation of many hours spent considering theoretical approaches to oppression!
When I take pains to appear younger, am I demonstrating a preference for the very traditional ways society values women, rather than a desire to stand out and be recognized for different reasons?
I am still standing at the mirror mind you, leaning on the bathroom counter, frowning at my cosmetics and wondering what to do about the makeup already on my face. Remove it? Should I throw away all of my cosmetics? Can I use some and not others? What if I use them and don’t worry about appearing younger? How does that happen? What would that mean?
Another thought occurs to me: Am I buying in to stereotypical double binds negating the possibility a woman may be both young and attractive and competent and smart? Has my appearance and outward persona, in conjunction with my knowledge and expertise, also communicated something important to my students? This thought makes me happier at least, and makes the row of products in front of me appear less offensive for the moment.
But then . . . oh no, am I simply buying into predominant contemporary feminist discourse allowing me the room for contradiction?? It is such a friendly, easy route to take. Less hard work, less judgment. No sacrifice. But is it also a cop-out?
I glance at my watch. I have spent nearly twenty minutes in front of the mirror with these questions–four times the amount of time I would spend in front of the bathroom mirror on a typical morning. I am running late; I am mentally exhausted; I am conflicted. This is hard work and I haven’t come to a conclusion or a course of action. I sigh and finish my anti-aging makeup. I have to think more about this and I promise myself I will. But for now, life calls. I have to get on with my day.
