Social Studies

I went to the city last week to apply for schools for Six. I flew up for a brief 36 hours having carefully mapped out my time so I’d be able to wander over to Geekymummy‘s house (who was kindly putting me up),  have the following morning to take care of all the administrative details,  possibly an hour or two for shopping and then dinner with a friend before flying home. It was all going to be very pleasant and efficient.

However, I got in a bit early and ended up being so incredibly efficient that I took care of all my school stuff that afternoon and thus had a WHOLE DAY to myself in the city with nothing to do. What utter bliss. I was very excited.

I slept late – half past eight (not quite sure what happened to the girl who considered getting up at noon an early start) and pottered around drinking tea in Geekymummy‘s cosy kitchen – they had all left for work (very brave of her to trust me not to run off with the family silver). It was pelting with rain outside and I was relying on public transport so I hatched a plan to shop for several hours, then visit an art museum and finally, daringly, to go to a grown up film all by myself.  Whilst happily disposing of several hundred dollars between Zara and a shoe shop which was having a sale (had to buy two pairs, really, at that price) I got a text from my dinner companion-t0-be saying she was ill, so I had even more free time before my plane. Good grief! I was practically giddy with it! I quickly rejigged my plans to go to an evening talk at the gallery and sloped off to have lunch and then slipped into a downtown cinema to see The Social Network which everyone else has seen but me because I’ve been holed up in the boondocks with small kids.

I must say I had my worries when I was sitting watching the trailer. You know how they try and tailor them to the feature and this did not bode well. They were advertising a movie called SuckerPunch. This is what the director says about it: “The film follows a young girl in the 1950s about to be lobotomized as she attempts to escape an asylum with her inmate friends.”  Gritty drama? No! Of course not. It’s a fantasy film that looks  like a cross between a Russ Meyer movie, a violent video game and a manga sex cartoon. The eyeleashes and push-up bras alone were enough to make me physically wince and the high-flying kicks with freeze animation so you can look up the girls’ skirts from every angle was so blatant it was almost laughable. Although with an $85 million dollar budget I daresay they weren’t trying to crack a funny.

After a few more loud and boring previews the feature finally started. I enjoyed it. I really did. The story was fascinating and although one never really thought Mark Zuckerberg was exactly delightful, it’s quite interesting to see what a phenomenal shit he was to his friends. The thing that really stuck with me, though, was how women were portrayed in the film. There were a couple of actual characters who had some depth and were awarded some sort of moral compass, but for the most part the film was populated with half-naked girls, gyrating-in-their-knickers-on-tables-girls, public-convenience blow-job giving girls, falling-over-drunk-stupid girls, lingerie-clad-kissing each-other-for-boys’ titillation girls, psychotic-gift-burning-over-texting girls. Stereotype girls who either are there to fuck or make a scene. Many of these girls were purportedly Harvard students, but I note that they were not writing algorithms or studying or hacking or writing or thinking. Because they were too busy being hot and wearing lacy bras so they could fulfill the sexual fantasies of the male Harvard students. Or not fulfill the fantasies of Mark Zuckerberg. Whatever.

My sister is at the other big Ivy League university right now. I wonder if she is getting her best skivvies on for a free show-&-wiggle every Saturday night because that’s what all the cool girls do?  I doubt it somehow, she’d consider all this type of thing beneath her, but I’m interested that so few young women seem offended by this kind of imagery, and in fact many participate happily in their own objectification mistaking it somehow for power?

I don’t know what can be done about this other than maintaining vigilance and continuing to voice discontent. I don’t want my daughter or my son growing up thinking that this kind of objectification is okay or normal, but it’s depressing to see how the tide has turned against women, often by our own hands just during my adult lifetime.

And where do you draw the line at home? Six is just becoming aware of her appearance and enjoys prancing around in front of the mirror making winning faces. Clearly she enjoys this – and she’s beautiful! Why not love that? I don’t want to tell her not to be interested in or like how she looks – it seems pretty normal to me. But how does one honour that and still make sure our daughters are engaged in their personal development so they are armed against the onslaught that is surely facing them and only getting worse?

Your thoughts, please!

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