Pretty Privilege

After watching the documentary “Miss Representation” I’ve realized that there is an entire world within me that was created by the media messages and depictions of women.

As a child, I would dress up in women’s clothes and wonder what it would be like to be so beautiful and admired that someone with money and status would feel not only grateful to have me, but obligated to take care of me. When I was in middle school, this desire faded. I learned that I was attracted to men, but I definitely enjoyed also being a man myself. Children often play dress up- so I was sure to grow out of it at some point- but I definitely wondered why women were no longer an aspiration for me. My thoughts of them had not changed; I admired them as much as ever. My adolescent brain had taken into account by this time the ranking of women and men in society, and unknowingly, I bought into it.

I’m not saying that I ever purposely discriminated against a woman for her gender or thought she was somehow less qualified to do a job. I certainly have not. I did ask myself, though, in regards to the backlash about females in media “What’s the big deal? Why is it so bad to be expected to look beautiful and pamper yourself? I love getting into glam.”

My male privilege was out to play. Most of my close friends are women and we share beauty tips and talk about our bodies, our fashion, and all-around aesthetic choices. These women care about the way they present themselves but are also smart, talented, well-rounded, desirable women separate from their looks. To me, it was totally possible to be thin, wear makeup and tight clothing, while representing yourself in a way that was not diminishing. When it came to viewing the hypersexualized images of women as a negative thing, the young boy in me was confused. We do it. It’s fun.

I witnessed plenty of women spend lots of time on their looks but also on their homework, and their jobs, and their relationships with family and friends, so I didn’t buy into the idea that there was ever anything inherently wrong with looking pretty: just that women could do it, and men could not. I remember being jealous of my female companions. They were encouraged to place so much value on their looks, that they received praise and acknowledgment when it paid-off, while I received ridicule and criticism for not being manly enough. I felt that girls had it easier because they could spend time looking pretty without being considered less of a man.

I was wrong, women are considered less than men. What I failed to realize back then was that, to the public, I had other options; they did not. There is a freedom I had: to do make up or not, get a manicure or not, look “pretty” or not. I was able to choose these things as electives which made me feel less scorn toward them. I subconsciously used the fact that I can still walk into a classroom or a job interview without beauty enhancements, and still present a certain level of competency, to ignore the danger of striving for perfection. This is a freedom that is unknown to my female peers.

My male privilege was literally categorizing women into a role that presented them in no better light than a misogynist’s would. Believing that, not just women, but all women actually enjoy doing beauty enhancements like I do. Not only enjoy it, but they are also somehow lucky to not be burdened with the responsibilities of being a man. Just sit still and look pretty. So easy. What’s the problem? The documentary answers this question.

Even I- with my blackness, and my homosexuality, and my perceived understanding of what it’s like to be a second class citizen, can be a person that perpetuates the disgusting norm of seeing women as beauty prizes instead of full-fledged human beings.