I was 11 years old when the soundtrack from the 2000 film Charlie’s Angels was released. Independent Women by Destiny’s Child was arguably the film’s only saving grace, pleasing critics and audiences where Charlie’s Angels could not; it paid tribute to women making it on their own and called for their independence from men, portraying the female gender as strong, determined and just as capable of making it in a man’s world as Man himself. For an 11-year-old girl, this was a wonderful message. For a girl not even halfway through her education, with aspirations of someday being a famous author, and discouraged from the institution of marriage by the poisonous relationships between men and women that existed around her, this song was inspiring, uplifting... and really quite catchy.
As a 24-year-old woman, I am no longer all that inspired by the song’s message. My formal education is complete, I am not yet a famous author and I could happily live with or without marriage. The line “All the honeys who makin’ money throw your hands up at me” doesn’t fill me with quite the same sense of empowerment that it used to. I don’t make a lot of money (a lot of the time I don’t make any money), and while I may not be dependent on any man to provide for me, I can hardly claim that “The house I live in (I bought it), the car I’m driving (I bought it)”, because I am simply not in the financial position to buy a house or a car, and I am certainly not in the position to say “The rocks I’m rockin’ (I bought it)”. Kudos to those women who are able to say such things, and I do not doubt their fantastic work ethic and refusal to give up or give in, but I still consider them to be part of a lucky minority, and suggesting that a woman is empowered only if she is financially stable on her own is isolating and damaging to women not privileged or fortunate enough to be able to say the same of themselves.
This culture of associating female empowerment with financial or material worth has only accelerated over the last 13 years, and is reflected heavily in the music industry today. Nicki Minaj, whose fanbase consists largely of teenage girls and young women, infuriatingly assigns her own worth to the money lining her pocket. On Check It Out, her collaboration with will.i.am, she boasts, “Mad cause I’m getting money in abundance, man I can’t even count all of these hundreds. Duffle bag every time I go to SunTrust, I leave the rest just to collect interest”, while on Muny (Material Girls), a kind of tribute to Madonna’s 1984 hit Material Girl, she says, “Top five tax bracket in the population, hatin’ and I know they got a reason why, I ain’t got to wonder if I want to lease or buy.”
Of course, a love of money and materialism in the music industry is not reserved exclusively for women, and this is something that plagues male artists’ music as well, consequently influencing the young listeners who buy and download their records. Often these male artists (though I’m sure sometimes with the best of intentions) reinforce these attitudes, commending the “independent women” whose independence is quantified by the money she earns: women who are presented as sexy, beautiful and desirable only if they “bought it”. Perhaps this interest in money comes from the relative poverty these musicians came from, and bragging about climbing out of the depths of deprivation inspires those still living in the midst of it to work harder and try harder, as the capitalist ethos would urge you to do. However, it is simply impossible for every person in the world to achieve the same levels of success as the members of Destiny’s Child, Nicki Minaj and Madonna, as well as anyone else who brags along to a nice little tune about how big their swimming pool is.
I find it sad that we have been taught that validation comes from earning a six-figure salary, and it is detrimental to the aims of an all-inclusive feminism to preach to young women – especially in a society already heavily saturated with a kind of submissive sexuality that caters to patriarchal fantasies – that the only way to be truly successful or happy or have any worth as a woman is to have money. Yes, with money comes power, and as long as that money rests in the bank accounts of mostly white men from privileged backgrounds, women and other oppressed groups should certainly be pressing for and celebrating an equal spread of the world’s economic wealth. However, to suggest that this is the only way to be a strong and empowered woman is a damaging argument to make to those who will probably never be “independent” by these standards.
Can we please have less focus on the money, and less judgement passed upon the majority who don’t drive a Benz or have every finger wrapped in diamonds. Can we please instead have more focus on a strong and united sisterhood.
Showing posts with label pop culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pop culture. Show all posts
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
Saturday, 26 January 2013
We're all a little bit slutty
A woman walks into a bar (this is not a bad joke, I promise) wearing a short skirt, fishnet tights, a low-cut top and stilettos. She is coated in fake tan, has spent the last two hours doing her makeup, and it looks likely that she has had a boob job. She flirts casually. Her friends might tell you that she has had more than a few sexual partners in her time, and she appears loud, gregarious and looking for attention.
She is no more a slut, a bimbo, a slag, a tart or a whore than you and I.
She is a product of our world, of images like these, and "news" articles like these. She has seen Katie Price being lauded as a "businesswoman", has established the link between glamour and success, and perceived "unattractiveness" and mockery and shame. Men find tits and arse sexy, and this appreciation feels like validation. She likes sex (God gave women the clitoris for a reason, no?), and when the whole world is talking about it, showing it and selling all conceivable consumerable goods with it, why are we surprised that she does?
Why do we affix derogatory and degrading labels to women who satisfy the culture we have created? Why do we worship women like Madonna and Rihanna on the one hand, hold them up as icons for women all over the world, and then pass off the women who attempt to emulate them as "sluts", "bimbos", "slags", "tarts" and "whores"? The woman in our bar is not surrounded by an army of security who will rugby-tackle the man who gropes her without invitation, and the chances are she can't afford weekly salon trips for professional spray-tanning, or an on-call makeup artist with 20 years' experience. Maybe she hasn't had more than a few sexual partners; maybe that's just what she lets people assume. But then again, maybe she has, and if she has, why are the men who regard her as something dirty and classless also the very men who don't mind dipping themselves into more than their fair share of honey jars?
We have been raised in a world where sex is always on the menu, where women are not regarded for their intelligence, wit or talent unless you might want to f**k her too. We buy into this culture, and then we criticise those who fall victim to it.
If she is a slut, we must be too.
She is no more a slut, a bimbo, a slag, a tart or a whore than you and I.
She is a product of our world, of images like these, and "news" articles like these. She has seen Katie Price being lauded as a "businesswoman", has established the link between glamour and success, and perceived "unattractiveness" and mockery and shame. Men find tits and arse sexy, and this appreciation feels like validation. She likes sex (God gave women the clitoris for a reason, no?), and when the whole world is talking about it, showing it and selling all conceivable consumerable goods with it, why are we surprised that she does?
Why do we affix derogatory and degrading labels to women who satisfy the culture we have created? Why do we worship women like Madonna and Rihanna on the one hand, hold them up as icons for women all over the world, and then pass off the women who attempt to emulate them as "sluts", "bimbos", "slags", "tarts" and "whores"? The woman in our bar is not surrounded by an army of security who will rugby-tackle the man who gropes her without invitation, and the chances are she can't afford weekly salon trips for professional spray-tanning, or an on-call makeup artist with 20 years' experience. Maybe she hasn't had more than a few sexual partners; maybe that's just what she lets people assume. But then again, maybe she has, and if she has, why are the men who regard her as something dirty and classless also the very men who don't mind dipping themselves into more than their fair share of honey jars?
We have been raised in a world where sex is always on the menu, where women are not regarded for their intelligence, wit or talent unless you might want to f**k her too. We buy into this culture, and then we criticise those who fall victim to it.
If she is a slut, we must be too.
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Pink!
I probably seem like a massive cliché: angry man-hating* woman who listens excessively to angry man-hating music. I don't mind people thinking that's what I am. If that's all they're prepared to see, then they can think what they like, and if that's all you're prepared to see, you can skip this post.
Though most of the music in my iTunes falls under the genre of R&B (a great deal of this being from the 90s), my most consistently listened-to artist is P!nk. Most people roll their eyes at me when I hark on about her, but I like to believe that this is because they've only heard the radio-friendly breakup anthems. In the same way that so many people roll their eyes at hip-hop lovers because they think all rap music is full of swearing, the promotion of gang culture and objectification of women (and a lot of it is; a lot of the mainstream stuff, anyway), sometimes you have to look beyond what you hear on the radio to find something worth listening to. And so, I present to you below some of my favourite P!nk lyrics. (I was going to diarrhoea them all over my Twitter feed, but didn't think that my followers would appreciate it.)
Warning: Some lyrics may be triggering.
Don't assume coz I'm a woman that I'll fall in love, don't expect I'm young and need to be took care of. - Stop Falling
Hey hey man, what's your problem? I see you're tryna hurt me bad, don't know what you're up against... Coz you know I'm not that kind of girl that'll lay there and let you cum first... Don't let him pull you by the skirt. - 18 Wheeler
I'm an opportunity, and I knock so softly...So many players, you'd think I was a board game... I drank your poison coz you told me it's wine. Shame on you if you fool me once, shame on me if you fool me twice... So what good am I to you if I can't be broken? - Eventually
And oh I've been down this road before, where the passion, it turns into pain. And each time I saw love walk out the door, I swore I'd never get caught up again. - Misery
Lying awake, watching the sunlight, how the birds will sing as I count the rings around my eyes. - Lonely Girl
But what's the point of this armour if it keeps the love away too? I'd rather bleed with cuts of love than live without any scars. - Love Song
Why can't I just love myself enough? Instead of looking outside for what I should have inside. I wanna live in a world with no mirrors, no sizes, no consequence and no prizes. No past, no future, no ages, no losers, no hate, no desire, no fate... I wish I didn't depend on your love, I wish I loved myself enough. - Free
What happened to the dream of the girl President? She's dancing in the video next to 50 Cent... Disasters all around, the world in despair. Your only concern? Will it fuck up my hair? - Stupid Girls
It's gonna take a long time to love, it's gonna take a lot to hold on, it's gonna be a long way to happy... Tryna cover up the damage and pad out all the bruises, too young to know I had it so it didn't hurt to lose it... Now I'm numb as hell and I can't feel a thing, but don't worry 'bout regret or guilt coz I never knew your name. - Long Way To Happy
How can you say no child is left behind? We're not dumb and we're not blind, they're all sitting in your cells while you pave the road to hell. What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away? And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay? - Dear Mr President
There's always cracks, a crack of sunlight, a crack on the mirror, on your lips... We only spun a web to catch ourselves so we weren't left for dead. And I was never looking for approval from anyone but you... Right behind the cigarette and the devilish smile, you're my crack of sunlight... I'm a winter flower underground, always thirsty for summer rain. And just like the changing seasons, I know you'll be back again. - I'm Not Dead
I don't believe Adam and Eve spent every goddamn day together... I don't wanna wake up with another, but I don't wanna always wake up with you either. No you can't hop into my shower, all I ask for is one f**king hour. - Leave Me Alone (I'm Lonely)
It's just you and your hand tonight. - U + Ur Hand
I'm too young to be taken seriously, but I'm too old to believe all this hypocrisy. And I wonder how long it'll take them to see my bed is made, and I wonder if I was a mistake... Chase the rainbows in my mind and I will try to stay alive. - Runaway
I don't believe in soulmates, happy endings or "the one". Oh and I met you and all that changed, I had a taste and you're still sitting on the tip of my tongue. - The One That Got Away
Just one foot wrong, you'll have to love me when I'm gone. - One Foot Wrong
You used to hold the door for me, now you can't wait to leave. You used to send me flowers if you f**ked up in my dreams... Always sentimental when I think of how it was, when love was sweet and new and we just couldn't get enough. The shower it reminds me you'd undress me with your eyes, and now you never touch me and you tell me that you're tired. You know it gets so sad when it all goes bad, and all you think about is all the fun you've had... We opened up the wine and we just let it breathe, but we should've drank it down while it was still sweet. It all goes bad eventually. - Mean
I conjure up the thought of being gone, but I'd probably even do that wrong. - It's All Your Fault
Where does everybody go when they go? They go so fast I don't think they know. We hate so fast and we love too slow... Broken hearts all around the spot, I can't help thinking that we lost the plot, suicide bomber and a student shot... But for that they've got a pill, if that don't kill you then the side-effects will, if we don't kill each other then the side-effects will. - Ave Mary A
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone? Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone... Have you ever wished for an endless night? Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight? - Glitter In The Air
Life is just a little part of what this world will do, to get its point across it beats you till you're black and blue... And all my friends have asked the question "Baby, will you be OK?" I wanna tell them yes coz I know that's what I should say. But I've got no crystal ball and I can't bring myself to lie and why should I?... Life is just a little part of what this world will do, it brings you to the brink, it beats the shit right out of you. - When You're Through You're Through
You're so mean when you talk about yourself, you are wrong. Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead. - F**kin' Perfect
Four: that's how many years it took me to get through the lesson that I had to do it all on my own. Three: that's how many Hail Marys they would pray for me, thinking I was gonna end up all alone. Two for second chances that you've given me, can it be lucky me... One: is what we are. - Are We All We Are?
At the same time I wanna hug you, I wanna wrap my hands around your neck. - True Love
And they think we fall in love, but that's not it. Just wanna get some... You don't win a prize with your googly eyes, I'm not a crackerjack, you can't go inside, unless I let you jack- haha Sam, oh f**k what's your name again? - Slut Like You
The truth about love comes at 3a.m., you wake up f**ked up and you grab a pen... The truth about love is it comes and it goes, a strange fascination, it is lips on toes. Morning breath, bedroom eyes on a smiling face, sheet marks, rug burn and a sugar glaze. A shock and the awe that can eat you raw. Is this the truth about love?... The truth about love is it's nasty and salty, it's the regret in the morning, it's the smelling of armpits. It's wings and songs, and trees and birds, it's all the poetry that you ever heard. Terror coup d'etat lifeline forget-me-nots, it's the hunt and the kill, the schemes and the plots. The truth about love is it's blood and it's guts, pure breds and mutts, sandwiches without the crust. It takes your breath and it leaves a scar, but those untouched never got... very far. It's rage and it's hate, and a sick twist of fate... Oh and you can lose your breath and oh you can shoot a gun, convinced you're the only one who's ever felt this way before. It hurts inside the hurt within and it folds together packet thin and it's whispered by the angels' lips and it can turn you into a son of a bitch. - The Truth About Love
The passion and the pain is gonna keep you alive someday. - The Great Escape
How do I keep you into me... without faking it too? - Is This Thing On?
Your anger's like a razorblade, it's just too bloody real... I don't feel like calming down, no I don't. I don't feel like hiding out, so I won't. I can't turn the volume down, so I sit here in this chaos and piss, watching the storm passing... I'm a willow tree and you can't blow me over, and my roots go deep in anger and I wanna feel the wind as it whips me like a prisoner. - Chaos & Piss
It's only love, give it away. You'll probably get it back again... Oh fuck it, have everything. - Timebomb
Unlike your anatomy, I'm glad I had it in me. - The King Is Dead But The Queen Is Alive
* I'm not always angry, and I don't hate men. Not all of them, anyway.
Though most of the music in my iTunes falls under the genre of R&B (a great deal of this being from the 90s), my most consistently listened-to artist is P!nk. Most people roll their eyes at me when I hark on about her, but I like to believe that this is because they've only heard the radio-friendly breakup anthems. In the same way that so many people roll their eyes at hip-hop lovers because they think all rap music is full of swearing, the promotion of gang culture and objectification of women (and a lot of it is; a lot of the mainstream stuff, anyway), sometimes you have to look beyond what you hear on the radio to find something worth listening to. And so, I present to you below some of my favourite P!nk lyrics. (I was going to diarrhoea them all over my Twitter feed, but didn't think that my followers would appreciate it.)
Warning: Some lyrics may be triggering.
Don't assume coz I'm a woman that I'll fall in love, don't expect I'm young and need to be took care of. - Stop Falling
Hey hey man, what's your problem? I see you're tryna hurt me bad, don't know what you're up against... Coz you know I'm not that kind of girl that'll lay there and let you cum first... Don't let him pull you by the skirt. - 18 Wheeler
I'm an opportunity, and I knock so softly...So many players, you'd think I was a board game... I drank your poison coz you told me it's wine. Shame on you if you fool me once, shame on me if you fool me twice... So what good am I to you if I can't be broken? - Eventually
And oh I've been down this road before, where the passion, it turns into pain. And each time I saw love walk out the door, I swore I'd never get caught up again. - Misery
Lying awake, watching the sunlight, how the birds will sing as I count the rings around my eyes. - Lonely Girl
But what's the point of this armour if it keeps the love away too? I'd rather bleed with cuts of love than live without any scars. - Love Song
Why can't I just love myself enough? Instead of looking outside for what I should have inside. I wanna live in a world with no mirrors, no sizes, no consequence and no prizes. No past, no future, no ages, no losers, no hate, no desire, no fate... I wish I didn't depend on your love, I wish I loved myself enough. - Free
What happened to the dream of the girl President? She's dancing in the video next to 50 Cent... Disasters all around, the world in despair. Your only concern? Will it fuck up my hair? - Stupid Girls
It's gonna take a long time to love, it's gonna take a lot to hold on, it's gonna be a long way to happy... Tryna cover up the damage and pad out all the bruises, too young to know I had it so it didn't hurt to lose it... Now I'm numb as hell and I can't feel a thing, but don't worry 'bout regret or guilt coz I never knew your name. - Long Way To Happy
How can you say no child is left behind? We're not dumb and we're not blind, they're all sitting in your cells while you pave the road to hell. What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away? And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay? - Dear Mr President
There's always cracks, a crack of sunlight, a crack on the mirror, on your lips... We only spun a web to catch ourselves so we weren't left for dead. And I was never looking for approval from anyone but you... Right behind the cigarette and the devilish smile, you're my crack of sunlight... I'm a winter flower underground, always thirsty for summer rain. And just like the changing seasons, I know you'll be back again. - I'm Not Dead
I don't believe Adam and Eve spent every goddamn day together... I don't wanna wake up with another, but I don't wanna always wake up with you either. No you can't hop into my shower, all I ask for is one f**king hour. - Leave Me Alone (I'm Lonely)
It's just you and your hand tonight. - U + Ur Hand
I'm too young to be taken seriously, but I'm too old to believe all this hypocrisy. And I wonder how long it'll take them to see my bed is made, and I wonder if I was a mistake... Chase the rainbows in my mind and I will try to stay alive. - Runaway
I don't believe in soulmates, happy endings or "the one". Oh and I met you and all that changed, I had a taste and you're still sitting on the tip of my tongue. - The One That Got Away
Just one foot wrong, you'll have to love me when I'm gone. - One Foot Wrong
You used to hold the door for me, now you can't wait to leave. You used to send me flowers if you f**ked up in my dreams... Always sentimental when I think of how it was, when love was sweet and new and we just couldn't get enough. The shower it reminds me you'd undress me with your eyes, and now you never touch me and you tell me that you're tired. You know it gets so sad when it all goes bad, and all you think about is all the fun you've had... We opened up the wine and we just let it breathe, but we should've drank it down while it was still sweet. It all goes bad eventually. - Mean
I conjure up the thought of being gone, but I'd probably even do that wrong. - It's All Your Fault
Where does everybody go when they go? They go so fast I don't think they know. We hate so fast and we love too slow... Broken hearts all around the spot, I can't help thinking that we lost the plot, suicide bomber and a student shot... But for that they've got a pill, if that don't kill you then the side-effects will, if we don't kill each other then the side-effects will. - Ave Mary A
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone? Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone... Have you ever wished for an endless night? Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight? - Glitter In The Air
Life is just a little part of what this world will do, to get its point across it beats you till you're black and blue... And all my friends have asked the question "Baby, will you be OK?" I wanna tell them yes coz I know that's what I should say. But I've got no crystal ball and I can't bring myself to lie and why should I?... Life is just a little part of what this world will do, it brings you to the brink, it beats the shit right out of you. - When You're Through You're Through
You're so mean when you talk about yourself, you are wrong. Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead. - F**kin' Perfect
Four: that's how many years it took me to get through the lesson that I had to do it all on my own. Three: that's how many Hail Marys they would pray for me, thinking I was gonna end up all alone. Two for second chances that you've given me, can it be lucky me... One: is what we are. - Are We All We Are?
At the same time I wanna hug you, I wanna wrap my hands around your neck. - True Love
And they think we fall in love, but that's not it. Just wanna get some... You don't win a prize with your googly eyes, I'm not a crackerjack, you can't go inside, unless I let you jack- haha Sam, oh f**k what's your name again? - Slut Like You
The truth about love comes at 3a.m., you wake up f**ked up and you grab a pen... The truth about love is it comes and it goes, a strange fascination, it is lips on toes. Morning breath, bedroom eyes on a smiling face, sheet marks, rug burn and a sugar glaze. A shock and the awe that can eat you raw. Is this the truth about love?... The truth about love is it's nasty and salty, it's the regret in the morning, it's the smelling of armpits. It's wings and songs, and trees and birds, it's all the poetry that you ever heard. Terror coup d'etat lifeline forget-me-nots, it's the hunt and the kill, the schemes and the plots. The truth about love is it's blood and it's guts, pure breds and mutts, sandwiches without the crust. It takes your breath and it leaves a scar, but those untouched never got... very far. It's rage and it's hate, and a sick twist of fate... Oh and you can lose your breath and oh you can shoot a gun, convinced you're the only one who's ever felt this way before. It hurts inside the hurt within and it folds together packet thin and it's whispered by the angels' lips and it can turn you into a son of a bitch. - The Truth About Love
The passion and the pain is gonna keep you alive someday. - The Great Escape
How do I keep you into me... without faking it too? - Is This Thing On?
Your anger's like a razorblade, it's just too bloody real... I don't feel like calming down, no I don't. I don't feel like hiding out, so I won't. I can't turn the volume down, so I sit here in this chaos and piss, watching the storm passing... I'm a willow tree and you can't blow me over, and my roots go deep in anger and I wanna feel the wind as it whips me like a prisoner. - Chaos & Piss
It's only love, give it away. You'll probably get it back again... Oh fuck it, have everything. - Timebomb
Unlike your anatomy, I'm glad I had it in me. - The King Is Dead But The Queen Is Alive
* I'm not always angry, and I don't hate men. Not all of them, anyway.
Monday, 5 December 2011
Why Little Mix should win The X Factor
I have been watching The X Factor since the very first season, when a now faint whisper of a man called Steve Brookstein walked away with the title. I was watching when Leona Lewis brushed aside Whitney Houston hit after Whitney Houston hit, and I was watching last year when a few unlikely lads came together to form the beast known to us now as One Direction - and known to many 13-year-old girls as "ONE DIRECTION AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!" And yet, in all that time, I have never seen a girl group really cement themselves in the competition or in people's minds. The only girl groups I remember are Hope, Miss Frank and Belle Amie, and a group of Irish sisters who were so awful that even Simon Cowell (their mentor) chose to vote them off the show over another mentor's act. Until this year, the judge blessed with the groups has chosen one obligatory girl group just to make up the numbers, has over-styled them, over-choreographed them and underlooked the talent, personality and friendship required to make a successful girl group.
Tulisa was the only woman for the job. I was never an N-Dubz fan (truth be told, I wouldn't be able to tell you the title to a single one of their songs), but there is no denying the feat Tulisa has managed to pull off here. She went into this job wanting the groups, wanting the challenge and ready to create something out of nothing - and I feel that is exactly the attitude needed to make a miracle. There was virtually nothing when Tulisa was given the groups: a few talented individuals who had found themselves placed haphazardly in groups of mediocrity... and then there was Little Mix (or Rhythmix, as they were back then). They were unique from the start - quirky and unsure, and yet they instantly looked right together. They were, however, just another girl group, and girl groups never do well on The X Factor, so while I expected them to get through to the live shows, I didn't expect them to progress much beyond the first three shows.
But they grew together alarmingly quickly. Their friendship grew and they became believable; they were styled perfectly, with enough quirkiness to stand out and enough glamour to look like stars, and most importantly of all, they were marketed with just the attitude every single (until now, male) mentor has failed to realise: with Girl Power. You cannot put together a girl group without looking at what made its predecessors so successful, and whether that's vocal ability (Destiny's Child) or relatability (Spice Girls), Little Mix tick all the right boxes. But, for me, the biggest box of all is the one which has been so noticeably vacant in these last few years: the ability to make young girls feel good about themselves. When band member Jesy spoke out about her weight and image insecurities early into the live shows, whether she realised it or not (though I am sure the producers realised it), she was reaching out to thousands of young girls out there and saying, "I am human." You could believe it when she got up on stage last week and sang Christina Aguilera's Beautiful, and you could believe her bandmates as they stood beside her and sang it with her.
I am tired of seeing the charts dominated by overly-airbrushed women who feel the only way to land a number one hit is to strip down and do some obligatory gyrating; I am tired of it being true that the only way to land a number one hit (unless you're Adele) is to strip down and shake your jelly. The fact that Little Mix have defied the odds and become the first girl group ever to make it into the final speaks volumes to me: girls are ready for change, and I am ready to support this change.
Little Mix has the X Factor!
Tulisa was the only woman for the job. I was never an N-Dubz fan (truth be told, I wouldn't be able to tell you the title to a single one of their songs), but there is no denying the feat Tulisa has managed to pull off here. She went into this job wanting the groups, wanting the challenge and ready to create something out of nothing - and I feel that is exactly the attitude needed to make a miracle. There was virtually nothing when Tulisa was given the groups: a few talented individuals who had found themselves placed haphazardly in groups of mediocrity... and then there was Little Mix (or Rhythmix, as they were back then). They were unique from the start - quirky and unsure, and yet they instantly looked right together. They were, however, just another girl group, and girl groups never do well on The X Factor, so while I expected them to get through to the live shows, I didn't expect them to progress much beyond the first three shows.
But they grew together alarmingly quickly. Their friendship grew and they became believable; they were styled perfectly, with enough quirkiness to stand out and enough glamour to look like stars, and most importantly of all, they were marketed with just the attitude every single (until now, male) mentor has failed to realise: with Girl Power. You cannot put together a girl group without looking at what made its predecessors so successful, and whether that's vocal ability (Destiny's Child) or relatability (Spice Girls), Little Mix tick all the right boxes. But, for me, the biggest box of all is the one which has been so noticeably vacant in these last few years: the ability to make young girls feel good about themselves. When band member Jesy spoke out about her weight and image insecurities early into the live shows, whether she realised it or not (though I am sure the producers realised it), she was reaching out to thousands of young girls out there and saying, "I am human." You could believe it when she got up on stage last week and sang Christina Aguilera's Beautiful, and you could believe her bandmates as they stood beside her and sang it with her.
I am tired of seeing the charts dominated by overly-airbrushed women who feel the only way to land a number one hit is to strip down and do some obligatory gyrating; I am tired of it being true that the only way to land a number one hit (unless you're Adele) is to strip down and shake your jelly. The fact that Little Mix have defied the odds and become the first girl group ever to make it into the final speaks volumes to me: girls are ready for change, and I am ready to support this change.
Little Mix has the X Factor!
Saturday, 26 November 2011
Series: Countdown To 2012
Series: The 12 Week Countdown
...5 Weeks To 2012: The Death of Music
This is how I know I'm getting on a bit: because I frequently find myself saying that "Music is not what it used to be."
I have a lot of issues with today's music; I have issues with the fact that everything sounds the same (and yes, I know every era has a sound, but I expect every era to have a range of genres, and not just one genre which every other pop, R&B and rock act tries to imitate: dance); I have issues with the fact that music videos are allowed to be so explicit and are not even put on post-watershed; but more than anything, my biggest issue is with the fact that you are no longer expected to have talent to be in the music industry, and that so long as you look the part, you're fine.
I know I blog about Rihanna far too often, and that every blog post is of a negative nature, but for me, she sums it all up. She can barely sing, as far as I'm aware she doesn't write her own music (where would she find the time? She tours the world, has a week holiday and then releases another album off the back of the last), and everything about her is centred around her image. I'll give her credit where it's due and say that she has a unique voice (interpret that as you will), catchy songs and works incredibly hard, but I can't help but think about other artists out there who also have that, as well as a good voice and songwriting skills to go with it, and that perhaps the only thing she has that they lack is the ability to shake her bum about and the desire to eat a banana or make out with another woman in her music videos.
This isn't have-a-pop-at-Rihanna day, though: she is not the only person guilty of taking a dump on music, and she is still young and probably very manipulated by those around her. Artists like Beyonce need to take more responsibility for the image that they they out out, because those are the artists with talent and who have a choice in the way they present themselves. Rihanna doesn't have a choice; if she chose to dress up as a nun and sing nursery rhymes, no one would be interested. If Beyonce dressed up as a nun and sang nursery rhymes... Well, perhaps she'd lose a few fans, but at least she'd still be able to sing. Then of course we've got artists like Nicki Minaj: a once-credible female hip-hop artist who wanted to go mainstream, so got butt implants the size of Jupiter, and then started "singing" - if you can call it that.
David Guetta needs to be smacked round the back of the head with a wet fish, too. STOP MAKING SHITTY ELECTRONIC DANCE MUSIC. No, in fact, I wouldn't mind him being around if it was just him doing his own thing, but the fact of the matter is that he's taking every single credible artist there ever was, producing their tracks and ruining them. In the last year, everyone has jumped on the David Guetta bandwagon, and as a result, the sound of 2011 has been the soundtrack to ecstasy. I don't want to imagine what the sound of 2012 will be, but we're on a downward slope at the moment, and I don't know how many manufactured, auto-tuned sounds my eardrums can take.
...5 Weeks To 2012: The Death of Music
This is how I know I'm getting on a bit: because I frequently find myself saying that "Music is not what it used to be."
I have a lot of issues with today's music; I have issues with the fact that everything sounds the same (and yes, I know every era has a sound, but I expect every era to have a range of genres, and not just one genre which every other pop, R&B and rock act tries to imitate: dance); I have issues with the fact that music videos are allowed to be so explicit and are not even put on post-watershed; but more than anything, my biggest issue is with the fact that you are no longer expected to have talent to be in the music industry, and that so long as you look the part, you're fine.
I know I blog about Rihanna far too often, and that every blog post is of a negative nature, but for me, she sums it all up. She can barely sing, as far as I'm aware she doesn't write her own music (where would she find the time? She tours the world, has a week holiday and then releases another album off the back of the last), and everything about her is centred around her image. I'll give her credit where it's due and say that she has a unique voice (interpret that as you will), catchy songs and works incredibly hard, but I can't help but think about other artists out there who also have that, as well as a good voice and songwriting skills to go with it, and that perhaps the only thing she has that they lack is the ability to shake her bum about and the desire to eat a banana or make out with another woman in her music videos.
This isn't have-a-pop-at-Rihanna day, though: she is not the only person guilty of taking a dump on music, and she is still young and probably very manipulated by those around her. Artists like Beyonce need to take more responsibility for the image that they they out out, because those are the artists with talent and who have a choice in the way they present themselves. Rihanna doesn't have a choice; if she chose to dress up as a nun and sing nursery rhymes, no one would be interested. If Beyonce dressed up as a nun and sang nursery rhymes... Well, perhaps she'd lose a few fans, but at least she'd still be able to sing. Then of course we've got artists like Nicki Minaj: a once-credible female hip-hop artist who wanted to go mainstream, so got butt implants the size of Jupiter, and then started "singing" - if you can call it that.
David Guetta needs to be smacked round the back of the head with a wet fish, too. STOP MAKING SHITTY ELECTRONIC DANCE MUSIC. No, in fact, I wouldn't mind him being around if it was just him doing his own thing, but the fact of the matter is that he's taking every single credible artist there ever was, producing their tracks and ruining them. In the last year, everyone has jumped on the David Guetta bandwagon, and as a result, the sound of 2011 has been the soundtrack to ecstasy. I don't want to imagine what the sound of 2012 will be, but we're on a downward slope at the moment, and I don't know how many manufactured, auto-tuned sounds my eardrums can take.
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Where Did 'Girl Power' Go?
A few days ago I stumbled across a quote from my favourite former Spice Girl Melanie C, on the ever-increasing emphasis on sex in mainstream music and how artists such as Rihanna need to take greater responsibility for the image that they put out. This is what she said:
From The Mirror
I didn't blog about it at the time because I thought that Sporty had said it all, but after reading this article today, I feel the need to clarify a few things.
The author implies that the Spice Girls were socially damaging for young girls, citing their (or, rather, Posh and Ginger Spices') donning of PVC in one music video, and while he admits that Sporty was one of the more modest Spices, there's the suggestion of hypocrisy on Melanie C's part, undermining her argument completely.
I've heard a lot of negative feminist commentary on the Spice Girls, but speaking as someone who was an impressionable young girl at the time of their reign, I found them to be nothing but a positive influence. When the Spice Girls were at their height, I was 8-years-old, and I was challenging the boys in the playground to races; I was campaigning at school for the girls to get as much football time as the boys; I was proud of who I was, and proud to be a girl. And while some feminists might argue that Ginger, Posh and at times Scary were heavily sexualised (for their time, anyway), I argue this: there was always choice with the Spice Girls. That's precisely what made them such a roaring success. If you reckoned yourself to be a bit cute, there was Baby. If you were feisty, there was Scary. If you thought you were more the classy kind, there was Posh. If you wanted to be sexy, there was Ginger. And if, like me, you liked football and trainers, there was Sporty. Being a fan of the Spice Girls didn't just mean that you were a fan of their music; it meant you were a fan of yourself. You, as a girl, were represented. You were told that it was OK for you to be cute, to be feisty, to be classy, to be athletic, and it was OK to be sexy, without ever indicating that to be sexy was the only way to be successful. These were normal women, with normal bodies and admittedly quite normal vocals; they were never the unobtainable, impossibly perfect and highly saturated pictures of women that we see on TV, in film and in music videos today.
As a young girl, I enjoyed a freedom I don't think young girls get to experience today. My morning battle with my wardrobe revolved around which tracksuit went best with which trainers, and the biggest problem my hair ever encountered was whether my ponytail was high enough. Now, I see girls as young as five being sent off to school in the winter months in just a little skirt and pair of socks, and it's easier finding a bikini for a young girl than it is finding a regular swimming costume. Why do we encourage this fashion upon young girls? Why are girls slapping on makeup with such inexpertise from as young an age as 11? Why are there so many pre-teen girls posing in front of their bedroom mirror in basques and then posting these photographs on social networking sites for the entire world to see, clearly oblivious to just who might see them? There are probably a lot of reasons why, but these few reasons in particular jump to mind: because it has become mainstream; because everyone else is doing it; because successful women they admire and aspire to be like are doing it; because we are not presenting these young girls with choice anymore. Sex sells, and kids have bought it.
Then the problem continues like a vicious circle: as popstars get younger and younger, with notables such as Willow Smith and Rebecca Black making the charts and the headlines respectively, we run the risk of exposing these already heavily-influenced kids to a darker reality. Tell an ordinary school-going young teenage girl to fit in, and she will likely put on a bit of makeup (badly) and wear clothes intended for a twenty-something. Tell a young teeange popstar to fit in, and she will likely turn into Miley Cyrus. Case in point.
But it's not all doom and gloom. There are probably almost as many Spice Girl-type role models as there are Rihanna-type role models: P!nk, Jessie J, Adele, Katy B and Kelly Clarkson to name just a few. The only problem is that sometimes we choose to watch a mute, expressionless, half-naked woman grinding herself against a fully-clothed male artist before we listen to the honest lyrics of those worth watching and listening to.
People have to take some responsibility because we’ve got to a point where over-sexualisation of young children has gone too far... I think music is a big part of that. Women in music, very successful women, are extremely sexual and they have young fans. It is inappropriate... Rihanna has responsibility and although culture’s always changing, it’s changed too much. It needs to be dealt with. It’s reached saturation point, we owe it to our kids to protect them.
From The Mirror
I didn't blog about it at the time because I thought that Sporty had said it all, but after reading this article today, I feel the need to clarify a few things.
The author implies that the Spice Girls were socially damaging for young girls, citing their (or, rather, Posh and Ginger Spices') donning of PVC in one music video, and while he admits that Sporty was one of the more modest Spices, there's the suggestion of hypocrisy on Melanie C's part, undermining her argument completely.
I've heard a lot of negative feminist commentary on the Spice Girls, but speaking as someone who was an impressionable young girl at the time of their reign, I found them to be nothing but a positive influence. When the Spice Girls were at their height, I was 8-years-old, and I was challenging the boys in the playground to races; I was campaigning at school for the girls to get as much football time as the boys; I was proud of who I was, and proud to be a girl. And while some feminists might argue that Ginger, Posh and at times Scary were heavily sexualised (for their time, anyway), I argue this: there was always choice with the Spice Girls. That's precisely what made them such a roaring success. If you reckoned yourself to be a bit cute, there was Baby. If you were feisty, there was Scary. If you thought you were more the classy kind, there was Posh. If you wanted to be sexy, there was Ginger. And if, like me, you liked football and trainers, there was Sporty. Being a fan of the Spice Girls didn't just mean that you were a fan of their music; it meant you were a fan of yourself. You, as a girl, were represented. You were told that it was OK for you to be cute, to be feisty, to be classy, to be athletic, and it was OK to be sexy, without ever indicating that to be sexy was the only way to be successful. These were normal women, with normal bodies and admittedly quite normal vocals; they were never the unobtainable, impossibly perfect and highly saturated pictures of women that we see on TV, in film and in music videos today.
As a young girl, I enjoyed a freedom I don't think young girls get to experience today. My morning battle with my wardrobe revolved around which tracksuit went best with which trainers, and the biggest problem my hair ever encountered was whether my ponytail was high enough. Now, I see girls as young as five being sent off to school in the winter months in just a little skirt and pair of socks, and it's easier finding a bikini for a young girl than it is finding a regular swimming costume. Why do we encourage this fashion upon young girls? Why are girls slapping on makeup with such inexpertise from as young an age as 11? Why are there so many pre-teen girls posing in front of their bedroom mirror in basques and then posting these photographs on social networking sites for the entire world to see, clearly oblivious to just who might see them? There are probably a lot of reasons why, but these few reasons in particular jump to mind: because it has become mainstream; because everyone else is doing it; because successful women they admire and aspire to be like are doing it; because we are not presenting these young girls with choice anymore. Sex sells, and kids have bought it.
Then the problem continues like a vicious circle: as popstars get younger and younger, with notables such as Willow Smith and Rebecca Black making the charts and the headlines respectively, we run the risk of exposing these already heavily-influenced kids to a darker reality. Tell an ordinary school-going young teenage girl to fit in, and she will likely put on a bit of makeup (badly) and wear clothes intended for a twenty-something. Tell a young teeange popstar to fit in, and she will likely turn into Miley Cyrus. Case in point.
But it's not all doom and gloom. There are probably almost as many Spice Girl-type role models as there are Rihanna-type role models: P!nk, Jessie J, Adele, Katy B and Kelly Clarkson to name just a few. The only problem is that sometimes we choose to watch a mute, expressionless, half-naked woman grinding herself against a fully-clothed male artist before we listen to the honest lyrics of those worth watching and listening to.
Saturday, 11 June 2011
The Stupid Girl Culture
A few nights ago, I was on YouTube watching videos of farting horses, when I stumbled across the music video for Mickey Factz and Marsha Ambrosius's For The Culture. Now, as hilarious as flactuating horses are, there's only so long you can watch these kinds of videos before the howling laughter eventually simmers down into this kind of pathetic, forced chuckle. So I thought to myself, Enough of farting horses. Let's check out this music video.
And it's not the best song in the world. I mean, it's alright, but it doesn't really show off Marsha's voice. The thing is, I happen to be one of those people who always reads the comments on YouTube. I think it's because I like to laugh and shake my head at the ridiculous stuff people come up with, and the 'inventive' new spelling and grammar rules they like to apply to their sentences. Itz Partiklily Funni Wen Dey Say Sumfin Lyk Shez A Stoopid Ass Bitch Al Da Wile Dey Tipe Lyk Dis. (I just think it's interesting that the only words these kids are comfortable spelling independently these days are swear-words. Just an observation.) So I read the comments. Here's a small selection of them, for your convenience:
SHE IS OGLY.
she is a man or a women
she looks like a old reck, i mean what is she, 50 ?
LOL...this ugly bitch looks like gonzo from the muppets but not as cute and her teeth need to be filed down...
What pleasant human beings they are. And I bet you're expecting to see a real monster, aren't you? Well, see for yourselves:
The eye makeup isn't that great, but so what? Maybe this is a bit of a pointless question, but why is there so much talk about one woman's face? Why not talk about Mickey Factz's face, or even better, talk about the song? Why is music no longer about music, but instead about aesthetics, about bodies and bums and boobs? Why is it image selling music, and not music selling music?
Going back to what I said a few days ago about young society's fascination with the term 'hater', I find it extraordinary that you're not able to criticise the actions of someone like Beyonce, while it is deemed perfectly acceptable to make comments such as the ones above about the physical appearance of someone like Marsha Ambrosius. What do these women have in common? They're both talented. Where do they differ? Beyonce is 'bootylicious', and Marsha Ambrosius used to be overweight. Hypocrisy, anyone?
I call this The Stupid Girl Culture based on the 2006 song by P!nk, Stupid Girls, which I frequently direct people to as a point of reference (i.e. You're a twat. Look at this. This is you.) The ironic part is that these 'girls' - the famous ones, anyway - aren't actually stupid; they're actually pretty clever, because they know that the fastest way to success is through their image. Stephanie Germanatto didn't get anywhere until she reinvented herself and became Lady Gaga, and Lady Gaga would have disappeared into some hole somewhere long ago if she hadn't kept upping the weirdness by donning meat dresses and one-thousand-inch heels. Rihanna wouldn't have become the superstar she is today if she'd kept churning out comparatively innocent songs like SOS, and Beyonce would be fully eclipsed by both Rihanna and Lady Gaga by now had she not decided to star in post-watershed adverts, bleach her hair and allegedly her skin, too. They're smart women who promote stupidity, and for not-so-smart girls being brainwashed by these music videos, photographs and adverts every day, the effects are obviously damaging. That's why now we can't have someone like Marsha Ambrosius on a song without the majority of the comments being in reference to what she looks like. The same is true not only in music, but in literature, too. As a writer, I can't begin to describe how frustrating it is to walk into a bookshop and see the shelves lined with novels apparently written by Katie Price. I may never become a published writer, and the knowledge that this might not be true if I had bigger boobs and was happy to show them to the world, disgusts me.
I think we need to ask ourselves if this is what we really want, for ourselves, for our sisters, our daughters, our mothers and our nieces. Do we want to live in a world where what a woman looks like and what a woman does with her body is considered more important than the skills, talents and thoughts she has to offer? Because in embracing this Stupid Girl Culture, not only are you closing yourself off musical talents like Marsha, but you're also closing yourself off to great female writers, scientists, artists, politicians and philosophers. And that would be a real shame.
And it's not the best song in the world. I mean, it's alright, but it doesn't really show off Marsha's voice. The thing is, I happen to be one of those people who always reads the comments on YouTube. I think it's because I like to laugh and shake my head at the ridiculous stuff people come up with, and the 'inventive' new spelling and grammar rules they like to apply to their sentences. Itz Partiklily Funni Wen Dey Say Sumfin Lyk Shez A Stoopid Ass Bitch Al Da Wile Dey Tipe Lyk Dis. (I just think it's interesting that the only words these kids are comfortable spelling independently these days are swear-words. Just an observation.) So I read the comments. Here's a small selection of them, for your convenience:
SHE IS OGLY.
she is a man or a women
she looks like a old reck, i mean what is she, 50 ?
LOL...this ugly bitch looks like gonzo from the muppets but not as cute and her teeth need to be filed down...
What pleasant human beings they are. And I bet you're expecting to see a real monster, aren't you? Well, see for yourselves:
The eye makeup isn't that great, but so what? Maybe this is a bit of a pointless question, but why is there so much talk about one woman's face? Why not talk about Mickey Factz's face, or even better, talk about the song? Why is music no longer about music, but instead about aesthetics, about bodies and bums and boobs? Why is it image selling music, and not music selling music?
Going back to what I said a few days ago about young society's fascination with the term 'hater', I find it extraordinary that you're not able to criticise the actions of someone like Beyonce, while it is deemed perfectly acceptable to make comments such as the ones above about the physical appearance of someone like Marsha Ambrosius. What do these women have in common? They're both talented. Where do they differ? Beyonce is 'bootylicious', and Marsha Ambrosius used to be overweight. Hypocrisy, anyone?
I call this The Stupid Girl Culture based on the 2006 song by P!nk, Stupid Girls, which I frequently direct people to as a point of reference (i.e. You're a twat. Look at this. This is you.) The ironic part is that these 'girls' - the famous ones, anyway - aren't actually stupid; they're actually pretty clever, because they know that the fastest way to success is through their image. Stephanie Germanatto didn't get anywhere until she reinvented herself and became Lady Gaga, and Lady Gaga would have disappeared into some hole somewhere long ago if she hadn't kept upping the weirdness by donning meat dresses and one-thousand-inch heels. Rihanna wouldn't have become the superstar she is today if she'd kept churning out comparatively innocent songs like SOS, and Beyonce would be fully eclipsed by both Rihanna and Lady Gaga by now had she not decided to star in post-watershed adverts, bleach her hair and allegedly her skin, too. They're smart women who promote stupidity, and for not-so-smart girls being brainwashed by these music videos, photographs and adverts every day, the effects are obviously damaging. That's why now we can't have someone like Marsha Ambrosius on a song without the majority of the comments being in reference to what she looks like. The same is true not only in music, but in literature, too. As a writer, I can't begin to describe how frustrating it is to walk into a bookshop and see the shelves lined with novels apparently written by Katie Price. I may never become a published writer, and the knowledge that this might not be true if I had bigger boobs and was happy to show them to the world, disgusts me.
I think we need to ask ourselves if this is what we really want, for ourselves, for our sisters, our daughters, our mothers and our nieces. Do we want to live in a world where what a woman looks like and what a woman does with her body is considered more important than the skills, talents and thoughts she has to offer? Because in embracing this Stupid Girl Culture, not only are you closing yourself off musical talents like Marsha, but you're also closing yourself off to great female writers, scientists, artists, politicians and philosophers. And that would be a real shame.
Monday, 30 May 2011
Haters to the Left
Has anyone else noticed the progressive use of the word 'hater' in the last couple of years? Is anyone else irritated by this progressive use? Cos I am.
I think the word 'hater' was borne out of honest intentions. Probably. Rather than looking inward and thinking, "I'm a big freaking loser and no one likes me because she called me fat and ugly!", people (mostly girls) began considering the possibility that those who tried to put them down were just jealous and that their opinion wasn't worth regarding. The latter became known as 'haters'.
The trouble now is that if you express dislike or disapproval towards someone or something for a valid reason, you are immediately labelled, without hesitance, a 'hater'. I am not allowed to say I find Lady Gaga an unoriginal attention-seeking copycat without her fans calling me a hater; I am not allowed to say that some of the sentiments of the likes of Rihanna and Beyonce's lyrics or music videos are socially damaging without being told I'm a hater; I am not allowed to think Madonna is just plain crap without having hater-shaped blades thrown at me. I am, according to the world, a hater.
And yes, while it is true that I am easily irritated by a lot of people and a lot of things, I don't consider myself a jealous person who looks for the worst in everyone. I think Stephanie Germanotta (known to the world now as 'Lady Gaga') and Beyonce are two incredibly talented individuals, but that it's not talent that they promote: it's controversy and sex, respectively. I don't think Rihanna is a bad person; I think she's young and possibly doesn't realise the full extent to which she impresses on young girls. As for Madonna.... Alright, maybe in her case I am a hater.
The term 'hater' doesn't just exist in the celebrity world anymore; it now plagues the youth of today. It promotes the idea that anyone can do anything they want and never be told to consider the implications of their decisions; it promotes the idea of "I'm right, you're wrong and that's that"; it promotes naivety, self-importance and arrogance. I am all for being yourself, "I am who I am" and all that jazz, but we need to start taking responsibility for our actions. Maybe sometimes we do need to look inwards.
We need to stop promoting arrogance and start promoting intelligence and healthy debate; if that means we have to promote 'hating', then so be it.
I think the word 'hater' was borne out of honest intentions. Probably. Rather than looking inward and thinking, "I'm a big freaking loser and no one likes me because she called me fat and ugly!", people (mostly girls) began considering the possibility that those who tried to put them down were just jealous and that their opinion wasn't worth regarding. The latter became known as 'haters'.
The trouble now is that if you express dislike or disapproval towards someone or something for a valid reason, you are immediately labelled, without hesitance, a 'hater'. I am not allowed to say I find Lady Gaga an unoriginal attention-seeking copycat without her fans calling me a hater; I am not allowed to say that some of the sentiments of the likes of Rihanna and Beyonce's lyrics or music videos are socially damaging without being told I'm a hater; I am not allowed to think Madonna is just plain crap without having hater-shaped blades thrown at me. I am, according to the world, a hater.
And yes, while it is true that I am easily irritated by a lot of people and a lot of things, I don't consider myself a jealous person who looks for the worst in everyone. I think Stephanie Germanotta (known to the world now as 'Lady Gaga') and Beyonce are two incredibly talented individuals, but that it's not talent that they promote: it's controversy and sex, respectively. I don't think Rihanna is a bad person; I think she's young and possibly doesn't realise the full extent to which she impresses on young girls. As for Madonna.... Alright, maybe in her case I am a hater.
The term 'hater' doesn't just exist in the celebrity world anymore; it now plagues the youth of today. It promotes the idea that anyone can do anything they want and never be told to consider the implications of their decisions; it promotes the idea of "I'm right, you're wrong and that's that"; it promotes naivety, self-importance and arrogance. I am all for being yourself, "I am who I am" and all that jazz, but we need to start taking responsibility for our actions. Maybe sometimes we do need to look inwards.
We need to stop promoting arrogance and start promoting intelligence and healthy debate; if that means we have to promote 'hating', then so be it.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
You're Perfect
Remember the other day when I was saying that it's harder to affect people through literature than it is through music or art, simply because people don't give it the time? Well, I want to demonstrate that point by showing you all a video. (However, I should warn you first that some may find the content triggering.)
I think P!nk is a bit of a Marmite artist; people tend to either love her or hate her. Personally, I love her. I think she's one of the few current mainstream artists who represent something positive and empowering for (mostly) young women, in a music industry saturated with sexually suggestive lyrics and dancing. That's not to say that I necessarily agree with everything she says or does, but she makes an effort to be a positive role model and talk about something other than sex, sex and... Shoot, I always forget what the other thing is... Oh yeah, that's right: sex.
Back in 2009 I saw her live at the O2, and it was clear to see just from the fans standing around me the impact she has on young, vulnerable women. I saw that her music is not only an art, but a message. And because she can sing (and sing live, too), because she can dance, and because she has theballs ovaries to stand up and say whatever the hell is on her mind, with her loud tattoos and (at times) eccentric hair, people listen to her. She's said in numerous interviews that each of her records has been a therapeutic experience for her, and I think that's true for the fans, as well. It reminds me of that line in Eminem's Stan: "I can relate to what you're saying in your songs so when I have a s**tty day, I drift away and put 'em on/ cause I don't really got s**t else, so that s**t helps when I'm depressed."
This song, to me, encapsulates what P!nk is all about. Maybe for the occasional listener she's all about the no-nonsense attitude and giving men the middle finger, but for the real fan she's an example of someone who's experienced a lot of pain and come out of it a stronger person. She's about the insecurity we all feel sometimes, and I think you'd be hard-pushed to find one single person who can't identify with at least one of her songs. In fact, I think you'd be hard-pushed to find one person who doesn't identify with the message in Perfect. That's not to say we all have weight issues or a history of self-harm, but all of us, at some point in our lives, have felt as if we're not good enough.
So maybe your friend, your boyfriend/girlfriend, sister/brother, mother/father, son/daughter or whoever won't listen to you when you tell them they're perfect - but I'm holding out some hope that this song and its video are able to begin to counter the effects of some of the socially damaging content that both the music industry and the media put out these days.
P.S. If you're past all that 'Parental Advisory' stage, I'd point you in the direction of the uncensored version of the song (F**kin' Perfect), but I don't really feel it's necessary to watch that video to really get the message. In fact, I think I prefer the clean version.
I think P!nk is a bit of a Marmite artist; people tend to either love her or hate her. Personally, I love her. I think she's one of the few current mainstream artists who represent something positive and empowering for (mostly) young women, in a music industry saturated with sexually suggestive lyrics and dancing. That's not to say that I necessarily agree with everything she says or does, but she makes an effort to be a positive role model and talk about something other than sex, sex and... Shoot, I always forget what the other thing is... Oh yeah, that's right: sex.
Back in 2009 I saw her live at the O2, and it was clear to see just from the fans standing around me the impact she has on young, vulnerable women. I saw that her music is not only an art, but a message. And because she can sing (and sing live, too), because she can dance, and because she has the
This song, to me, encapsulates what P!nk is all about. Maybe for the occasional listener she's all about the no-nonsense attitude and giving men the middle finger, but for the real fan she's an example of someone who's experienced a lot of pain and come out of it a stronger person. She's about the insecurity we all feel sometimes, and I think you'd be hard-pushed to find one single person who can't identify with at least one of her songs. In fact, I think you'd be hard-pushed to find one person who doesn't identify with the message in Perfect. That's not to say we all have weight issues or a history of self-harm, but all of us, at some point in our lives, have felt as if we're not good enough.
So maybe your friend, your boyfriend/girlfriend, sister/brother, mother/father, son/daughter or whoever won't listen to you when you tell them they're perfect - but I'm holding out some hope that this song and its video are able to begin to counter the effects of some of the socially damaging content that both the music industry and the media put out these days.
P.S. If you're past all that 'Parental Advisory' stage, I'd point you in the direction of the uncensored version of the song (F**kin' Perfect), but I don't really feel it's necessary to watch that video to really get the message. In fact, I think I prefer the clean version.
Monday, 20 December 2010
Seductively picking my nose.
You know those music videos where you've got some guy in his house singing about a woman he's got the hots for, or where the woman is singing about some guy she's got the hots for? Well, why is the woman always lying on her bed half-naked? First of all, if this is happening in the middle of the day, what is she doing still at home in her lingerie? Doesn't she have a job to go to? Or perhaps some errands she needs to run? And if this is happening in the evening, surely she'd be cooking herself some dinner (or at least heating up a Pot Noodle) or watching EastEnders.
Secondly, why doesn't she have any clothes on? Is it hot? Why doesn't she turn the heating down, or open a window, or get herself a glass of water? Maybe she's too poor to afford any clothes, but again, if she went to her job, rather than lazing about on her bed doing random over-elaborate arm movements in the middle of the day, chances are she'd be able to afford some clothes. I reckon she does have the money to buy clothes, though; judging by the state of her bedroom (which looks like a page torn out of the IKEA catalogue - hello, where are the dirty socks on the floor?), she's got a spare bob or two.
Maybe she does have a job, and errands to run. Maybe she does own clothes, and maybe the temperature of the room is perfectly reasonable. Maybe she just makes an effort, once a day, to lie on her bed in a seductive fashion. Maybe it comes right after cleaning the toilet and right before writing out a cheque to her gas company.
Oh yeah, and that whole scenario where a guy's on the phone to a woman, and she happens to be either a) half-naked in the kitchen, b) half-naked in the bedroom, or c) fully-naked in the bath? Yeah, she's probably not doing any of those things. She's probably either a) in the kitchen, eating cake, b) on the bed, picking her nose, or c) in the bath, cleaning it.
Reality is harsh.
Secondly, why doesn't she have any clothes on? Is it hot? Why doesn't she turn the heating down, or open a window, or get herself a glass of water? Maybe she's too poor to afford any clothes, but again, if she went to her job, rather than lazing about on her bed doing random over-elaborate arm movements in the middle of the day, chances are she'd be able to afford some clothes. I reckon she does have the money to buy clothes, though; judging by the state of her bedroom (which looks like a page torn out of the IKEA catalogue - hello, where are the dirty socks on the floor?), she's got a spare bob or two.
Maybe she does have a job, and errands to run. Maybe she does own clothes, and maybe the temperature of the room is perfectly reasonable. Maybe she just makes an effort, once a day, to lie on her bed in a seductive fashion. Maybe it comes right after cleaning the toilet and right before writing out a cheque to her gas company.
Oh yeah, and that whole scenario where a guy's on the phone to a woman, and she happens to be either a) half-naked in the kitchen, b) half-naked in the bedroom, or c) fully-naked in the bath? Yeah, she's probably not doing any of those things. She's probably either a) in the kitchen, eating cake, b) on the bed, picking her nose, or c) in the bath, cleaning it.
Reality is harsh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)