people living in the US, people from here, are feeling the unease and the disillusionment over the immoral capitalistic nature of the media and the marketing in the country.
any thing is free wheeling when it comes to making money.
a festivity meant for kids getting candies from neighborhoods, by dressing up as good or bad characters, now includes the more wild look of young girls and women, coming out in the streets, & making a statement that they are party to the sports of the businesses that thrive on unhealthy ways of dressing up people, to make them feel ‘sexy’.
& the sad thing is the society all around us, believe in this to be a way to have ‘fun’.
violence against women in media and in marketing has to stop.
chime
More on women in mass culture
(And it’s seasonal.)
(It also brings to mind the scene in “Mean Girls” when Lindsay Lohan’s
character missed the memo on sexy costumes):
The New York Times
October 16, 2006
Op-Ed Contributor
Halloween on Heels
By ALLISON GLOCK
NORTH CHATHAM, N.Y.
ALL I wanted was a pair of mouse ears. It is Halloween season, and to
the delight of my children, I promised to dress up as the country mouse.
I was a recent transplant to rural life, so it made sense. Besides, I
already owned the overalls and the flannel shirt. I just needed the
ears. And maybe a wedge of plastic cheese.
So my girls, 4 and 6, and I went to Target, which has much better
lighting than Wal-Mart — and Isaac Mizrahi. It wasn’t long before I
discovered that the only ears on offer at the Target Festival of Fright
were of the “sexy cat” variety. Sexy cat is fine if you are in your
20’s, unimaginative and trying to persuade people that you possess
latent feline qualities. As I am neither latent nor in my 20’s, I
continued down the Adult Costume aisle.
I walked past the displays for the sexy devil and the sexy bunny and the
sexy leopard — which, confounding logic, was already sold out — before
happening upon the wall of full adult costumes. The first was Tavern
Lady, an off-the-shoulder dress and faux-leather vest. It was followed
by French Maid (ruffled mini-dress with matching headpiece), Cheerleader
(pleated micro-mini and fitted vest) and Wonder Woman, which had not
only a nearly invisible skirt but also red vinyl boot covers that
reached to the thigh.
At $49.99, Wonder Woman was among the priciest costumes, along with the
Geisha — both $20 more than Stewardess, which consisted only of a
polyester wrap dress with a plunging neckline.
A quick trip to Wal-Mart and Kmart revealed the same dubious selections.
While the hemlines were slightly lower on the Kmart French Maid and
Cheerleader, Wal-Mart hewed to form with a saucy Red Riding Hood and a
naughty rag doll, advertising a “sultry vinyl bodice and thigh highs …
lollipop not included.”
A theme was emerging. And it wasn’t Halloween. Since when did Halloween
costumes become marital aids? The hobo has turned into the Hillbilly
Honey. The traditional vampire is now the Mistress of Darkness. I have
nothing against playing erotic dress-up, or even mass-market fetishism.
I’d just prefer it didn’t converge with a family holiday (and wasn’t
sold next to the dryer sheets). If you want to play cheerleader at home,
go team. But trick-or-treating with your children in anything featuring
latex and cleavage seems like a little too much trick.
And really, wasn’t Halloween the one day modern women could relax about
looking hot? What if I just want to be a mummy sans yummy?
I noticed that on the outside of every package was a photo of a woman
modeling not only the costume, but teetering heels and bras of the
push-up variety. The First Lady costume was not, as one might expect, a
red business suit, but a pink crepe mini-dress. At least it had the
matching pillbox hat. The angel was dubbed “heaven’s hottie.” Even the
witch had a slit up her tattered skirt.
My girls were confused. “Where are the monsters?” they asked. “Where are
the superheroes?” I pointed weakly to Wonder Woman and her thigh-high
boots. “She’s pretty,” said my 4-year-old. Before adding, “You can see
her breasts.”
As I watched them scan the selections, soaking in the unspoken message,
I remembered my freshman year in college, going to a Halloween party
dressed as a pumpkin. My face was painted orange. My torso was covered
in fabric stuffed into a wide, round orb. It was not seductive. And it
hadn’t occurred to me that it should be. There were no adult pumpkin
costumes in the superstores. No vegetable costumes of any sort.
We moved along the aisle. I casually searched for the male equivalent of
the Stewardess. Perhaps a Hot Fireman costume? Or maybe Handyman? But
there was no Pool Boy. No Sexy C.E.O. There were, in fact, very few
men’s costumes at all. A gorilla. A generic monster. A handful of serial
killers.
We gave up on the mouse ears. Walking back, I noticed in the middle of
the boas and six-inch heels and fishnets hung a Nun costume. It was a
floor-length robe with modified wimple. Unlike the other ensembles,
which offered bust and hip measurements, it was one size fits most. The
price: a modest $9.99. According to the Target Web site, it is a best
seller. Probably among men.
Allison Glock is the author of “Beauty Before Comfort” and the
forthcoming “What’s in It for Me? The Myth of the Happy Wife.”