I love historical drama.
In all honesty, i think I learn more about history through fiction, whether reading or watching, than I ever did in a history lesson! By watching lives of individuals play out in a story I pick up much more of the cultural, social, and political factors of the time period than a lecturer was ever able to communicate.
At the moment I am re-enjoying Mr Selfridge. Season two has been released on Netflix (yay!) and so we’re re-watching season one to remind ourselves of what’s going on. And second time around, I’m still loving every minute of it.
It’s fascinating watching the start of the revolution in both women’s fashion set against the backdrop of the suffragette movement. I’ve often assumed the turning point in women’s clothing came in the 60s when barriers to expression were being demolished in every direction. But while that decade might have hastened the transition, it seems to have had quieter foundation, as women began to press against the heavy restrictions laid upon them. There’s a great scene where one pioneering lady explains why her skirts are an inch shorter than the accepted standard, baring her ankles to public viewing, because it allows her to cycle to work.
How much is too much on display?
While smiling to myself at these old-fashioned ideas of modesty, it did get me reflecting on the current norms for how much of a woman’s body should be on display.
On a recent bus journey as I passed the time watching through the window, I was struck by both the frequency at which I saw images of semi-naked women, and how desensitised I was.
I’m talking both posters on bus shelters, billboards and shop windows, as well as shop mannequins.
It seems perfectly normal now that lingerie shops should have mannequins in their shop windows dressed in underwear. Afterall, that’s what the shop sells, I guess it makes sense. And yet, when you think about it, does it? Women have been buying underwear for quite a long time, without needing to see photographs of other women in their smalls in order to do so! (In fact, I often find it quite off putting – being very aware that my body does not resemble either a shop mannequin’s or a fashion models, I know I won’t look like that in the proffered garments. Feeling completely inadequate it’s more likely to put me off buying them than otherwise!)
But more than that, why is it so normal to have semi naked women displayed in public? How did we move from top to toe coverage to the idea now that so long as the nipples are covered, pretty much all else is fair game? Surely there’s a more sensible point between these two extremes?
Miss Universe
Then today I came across an article with the following headline –
“On Wednesday, 88 Miss Universe contestants showed off a dress that represents their country. They ranged from more modest outfits featuring a country’s colors to more elaborate representations of the country’s favorite pastime. We’re looking at you – Canada”
Intrigued, I started to browse through the photographs. And yes, Canada’s outfit was certainly… interesting.
I didn’t get very far through the photographs before noticing that, despite the headline talking about ‘a dress that represents their country’, few of the women were wearing dresses. In fact, most had chosen elaborate outfits that were basically underwear with accents. Whether corsets, basques or bikinis, the interpretation of ‘dress’ seemed to err more on the side of ‘undressed’!
How terribly sad that these women believed that to be considered beautiful they needed to dress provocatively and seductively, and display as much of their flesh as possible.
Is this really what beauty is? Are women in our culture truly only considered beautiful if they have ‘perfect’ bodies which they are happy to have on display for all to see?
Who decides what’s beautiful?
I don’t think I’m making any great revelation of truth here when I state that most women do not have ‘perfect’ bodies.
We don’t have time to spend all day every day in the gym sculpting those perfect abs. We sag and bulge, and our curves might be larger than we’re told is ideal. And many of us carry the wounds of life – whether that’s post-labour stretch marks, scars bearing testimony to surgery or plain old injuries through time! Our bodies are not perfect porcelain replicas of mannequins. (Nor should they be – afterall, a mannequin is supposed to be a representation of the human body. Since when did they instead become the standard that we’re supposed to aspire to?! )
But when the message is that only these plastic-perfect bodies, with no flaws, now scars, no saggy bits – only these perfectly sized and shaped bodies which look good in barely any clothes – only these are considered beautiful – where does that leave the rest of us?
Do we truly believe in such a limited, narrow definition of beauty? No wonder so many women suffer from low self-esteem! Beauty has become the realm only of the elite few. The majority of us live under the burden of being ‘less’. Not ugly – just not beautiful.
Won the battle, losing the war?
How sad! Sad that the wonder and variation of feminine beauty has been so diminished! Society used to place such a high regard on a women’s body as to almost revere them. Women were protected and cherished. It would be unthinkable to treat them with such little regard. Now we barely flinch at the idea of posing half-dressed mannequins on the high street, where any one can stand and stare without censure.
More and more fashions are designed around tight fitting clothes which ‘flatter’ the feminine form – by revealing it. There’s nowhere to hide our lumps and bumps any more!
I am glad that we have moved away from a societal opinion that women exposing too much ankle had ‘loose morals’! However, I can’t help feeling that in the rush to throw off the restrictions, we have gone too far, and that in the long run, women have lost their liberty in the fight for it.
I wonder what the suffragettes marching through London to demand the right to vote would think of this outcome. Yes, women are now ‘free’ from restrictions around their dress – in that they can wear as little as they like. But is it true freedom? Haven’t we just swapped the rules of dress out for a different set of restrictions?
Because now a woman can’t be beautiful unless she has a body worthy of display – and displays it to prove it. There is a pervasive pressure to conform your body to the standard set in the media and sales worlds, a standard which is impossible for most women to achieve. And if you fall short, then you are not just not beautiful – you are unfeminine, you are less than normal.
Once women were judged for showing too much. Now we feel judged for not showing enough. Either way, women lose out. We fought for freedom, and now we are free – to be ogled at, to be judged for not being ‘fit’ enough, to be pressured into a ‘one size fits all’ version of beauty.
I wonder if this is truly the freedom which women fought for? Somehow, I think not.
Milly's Scribblings 