Black Catsuit, Seven Lives: How Sexist Perceptions Diminish Women’s Autonomy//Aimee M. Poleski, M.A.


http://halloween.friko.net/piatek-13.html


Serena Williams is an icon.  For many women, her name rings familiar as one echoed throughout childhood, adolescence, and into adulthood.  The tennis star is a reflection of both our age and a reminder that we do not all age the same.  Simply put, we do not all possess the same level of commitment to being the best version of ourselves.  If women who have known that name within
their lifetimes displayed similar devotion to transcending barriers, perhaps the 21st century may see women holding more power within our current American society.  Williams is the embodiment of the woman who strives to outdo the person she was the day before, and she exists as a salient reminder that many of us can afford success in the face of adversity.  She is the model for resiliency in facing adversity within a profession as a minority female athlete who may, as such, experience greater scrutiny.  And so we persist in part due to women like Williams who endure as the avatar for women within the United States, for what we can be if we choose to confront barriers.  After entering motherhood, she has even more greatly upheld this truth.  Oh yes, she…...we can truly do it all.  As long as it’s not in a catsuit.

In a world in which women are still the partner most often expected to choose between career and parenthood (Galley, 2014) Williams now fully represents the tangible opportunity for a woman to function in the maternal and professional roles at once.  Her entry into parenthood after giving birth to her first child in September of 2017 (Kimble, 2017) juxtaposes the fierce, dominant nature of athleticism with the benevolent qualities of being a mother.  When correlating motherhood with the persona of a powerful athlete, one may anticipate the subtle discomfort of cognitive dissonance creep in, but in this day the Olympian turned mother-and-athlete is generally embraced as a member of both clubs.  Now, more than ever, Williams is truly representative of women who strive to connect with various aspects of the multifaceted female identity.  We can be dominant and nurturing, fierce and soft, commanding and doting, aggressive and patient, and kind, and loving, and all of the things the good-enough mother is.  We can be the master of a craft (that does not involve glue, smilies, or glitter) and the master of our feminine sides (which can be quite glittery) at the same damn time.  William’s return to tennis highlighted this tangible reality.  However, when she chose to wear a skin-tight, black spandex body suit, developed by Nike and designed to preserve the physical well-being of a woman who experienced blood clots post-childbirth (Dicker, 2018), the president of the French Tennis Federation, Bernard Giudicelli, publicly stated his disapproval (Dawson, 2013).  He indicated the outfit was inappropriate and announced it would be prohibited in subsequent French open tournaments.

A similar reaction occurred in 2002, when Williams wore a different controversial outfit (Hobson, 2013).  The catsuit’s predecessor was also tight, black spandex and drew attention to her womanlier curves, most notably the buttocks, an area of the Black woman’s body Hobson (2013) claims can be viewed in an unfavorable manner.  In fact, a Black woman’s body has, more often than that of a Caucasian woman, been viewed as one of indecency (Lawson, 2000), and William’s earlier controversy even caused critique of her muscular body as being too masculine (Hobson, 2013).  In a peculiar fashion, her femininity was too apparent and femininity simultaneously minimized.

The preoccupation with Black women’s curves is suggested to be offspring of a long history of fetishizing and degrading these features (Hobson, 2013).  This dates back to at least the 1800s, when Sarartije (Sara) Baartman, also commonly referred to as Hottentot Venus, was transported from South Africa to Europe to reside for a significant portion of her life.  There, she existed as a spectacle (SAHO, 2018).  She was put on display and her markedly sizable buttocks observed with both curious fascination and disgust.  During this time larger buttocks were considered fashionable (Kentake, 2017).  Thus, some may endorse the notion that onlookers admired Baartman for this feature.  Yet she was enslaved and forced to showcase her body as an oddity to people outside of her own culture.  The display of Baartman for direct observation of her pronounced physical features is a reprehensible illustration of a unique form of scrutiny that people outside of the African American community may be unable to fully grasp or appreciate.   

Baartman was not necessarily a willing participant in the manifestation her legacy.  Instead, she was a slave who was also illiterate when she signed a contract that required she travel throughout Europe to continue work as a slave and serve as an attraction (SAHO, 2018).  Later, she was showcased alongside a circus animal.  Baartman was kept in cages and directed to move about by someone functioning as an animal trainer would (Kentake, 2017).  She died in her twenties (SAHO, 2018).  For over two decades this woman was without freedom.  When a spectacle she was often showcased in scarce clothing and is rumored to have indulged in substance use to cope with her circumstance (Kentake, 2017).  Her history provides a horrific representation of the way in which African American women have been stigmatized and the center of revolting scrutiny. 

The preoccupation with curvy bodies is reflected in current times, with women even going to great lengths to mimic such features, be it through photo shop or butt implants.  The rising popularity of exaggerated curves can be observed through a simple search of current Instagram models or celebrities.  However, the same features that are idealized can also be the subject of negative scrutiny.  Our society does not currently subject women to the same level of maltreatment Sara Baartman endured, but many women do not choose to be a willing participant in others’ repugnant perceptions.  Likewise, the current preoccupation with emphasized curves is not without paradox when considering the role of history. 

Black women in particular tend to experience greater negative scrutiny of their body types.  However, the policing of women’s bodies and clothing certainly does not exclude women of different cultural or ethnic groups.  A Caucasian tennis player, Anna White, received a similar reaction after donning a white, spandex catsuit to a 1985 Wimbledon match (Feinstein, 1985).  Some argue White received less harsh criticism, but her catsuit was another that did not make a second appearance.  It was poorly received by many and prohibited in future Wimbledon matches (Hobson, 2012).  As such, patterns of sexism are not limited to perceptions of Black women’s bodies, and Williams is not the only female tennis player to have her autonomy infringed upon.  Be it to various degrees, all women are subjected to this form of sexism.  Minority women, though, have a longstanding account of body policing that has historical roots, some entrenched in tragic oppression, cruelty, and discrimination.

In addition to the historical context of body and clothes policing, such phenomena may have an evolutionary basis.  From an evolutionary standpoint, certain male behavior is explained by the inability to establish paternity.  Modern technology aside, a man can never be certain the child he is providing for is his.  While studying human sexuality has led me to entertain the assumption that this is the basis for jealousy, this primal force motivating behavior is also suggested to result in control of women’s bodies as a means to ensure no other man has access to her (Chrisler, 2010).  In current times, this can present as men dictating the degree to which a woman’s sexuality is evident to others.  Simply put, it looks like men telling women what to wear.  Yet, regardless of a possible evolutionary basis, such behaviors continue to stigmatize women. A woman should certainly be mindful of how she is presenting, yet others should be mindful of how worldview affects perception and subsequently, behavior.  Instead of requiring men to reframe their view of the woman’s body, the oversexualization of women and promotion of submissive deference is reinforced within a culture by telling the woman she must hide that which makes others uncomfortable, be it an opinion, a superior ability, or evident curves.

In exploring the topic of policing women’s bodies I can’t help but recall one of my most notable celebrity encounters (beyond meeting Orville Redenbacher and Vanilla Ice, sadly on separate occasions).  As a fan of Janelle Monáe, a singer and actor who often employs pro-equality lyrics in her music and re-defines femininity through her fashion choices and messaging, I referenced her on several occasions through social media.  Despite my shameless plugs for her music and film productions never having been noted, Monáe did respond to a comment in which I eluded to her having sold out to the industry.  I was referring to her song, “Yoga.”  

I felt Monáe abandoned her feminist ideals for lyrics such as, “Baby bend over; Let your booty do the yoga,” for the single to become one of her only mainstream tracks.  The reference to selling out is what caught her attention.  In a comment on my Instagram post, she reciprocated my brash assessment in referencing a line from “Yoga (AZLyrics, 2018):” “You cannot police me, so get off my areola.”  Message heeded (back off peasant), but the comment was also successful in drawing my attention to Monáe still serving as an advocate for women.  She was not, in fact, selling out (though some lyrics negated those promoting empowerment).  She was confronting our culture’s persistence in telling women the range of ways she should behave (when people want it, how they want it). “Get off my areola” is an assertive stance in opposition to critiques that constantly shroud a woman’s choices.  The description of policing of women’s bodies reflects the exact norm that subjected Williams to such criticism for her French open outfit.  Monáe’s message suits our culture now and will most likely apply into the distant future.  Interestingly, in my assessment of her song I was also engaging in the same behavior she was drawing attention to.  Yet to the contrary, my assessment could also be viewed simply as an opinion.  Of course, this could be left for debate.  

While appropriate professional attire is compulsory and the selections women make for their professional attire must certainly be appropriate for the setting, the notion that a female athlete must minimize either her athletic or feminine features is absurd.  Tennis star, Serena Williams is not an anomaly in her experience.  She simply cannot prevent her womanhood from being so apparent it offends someone.  Evident in the curves she is expected to go to great lengths to hide is a shared cultural inability to see a person first before identifying a sexual being that exists under the many layers of alternative roles that compose a woman’s identity.  The body parts often associated with women’s sexuality, in this case the pronounced buttocks, breasts, and thighs, are perceived as a source of disgust, a threat, or too striking a reminder of our sexuality or ways in which we do not fully represent others’ perceptions of femininity.  Acting on these perceptions perpetuates the belief that these body parts are a menace to be avoided.

Despite William’s body existing as a source of food for her child and a tool for her labor she, in this case, is primarily perceived as a sexual object.   Successful avoidance of her pronounced features is achieved through prohibiting her catsuit.  Williams will live on as an icon, yet in her lifetime may never be enough for her accomplishments to stand out more than her lady lumps.  For that reason, she is all of us.  But Ms. Serena (Ms. William’s if you’re nasty), keep doing what you are doing.  Next time, maybe try it with glitter.
                       
Written by Aimee M. Poleski, M.A.

                                                                       References

Dawson, A.  (2013).  The 'Black Panther'-style catsuit that made Serena Williams feel like a 'warrior princess' has reportedly been banned from future French Open tournaments. Retrieved from https://nordic.businessinsider.com/serena-williams-wakanda-inspired-catsuit-banned-from-the-french-open-2018-8/
Dicker, R.  (2018.)  Serena Williams’ ‘Wakanda-inspired catsuit’ banned by French Open.
Retrieved from: https://www.huffingtonpost.in/2018/08/25/serena-williams-wakanda- inspired-catsuit-banned-by-french-open_a_23509121/
Feinstein, J.  (1985).  Bodysuit bites the dust.  Retrieved from https://www.washingtonpost.com/ archive/lifestyle/1985/06/29/bodysuit-bites-the-dust/e602f07d-2402-44ca-98f2-7   6f65326566b/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.541ce8f0e1e3
Galley, J.  (2014).  Monthly Labor Review (MLR).  National Bureau of Labor Statistics.  Retrieved from: https://www.bls.gov/opub/mlr/2014/beyond-bls/stay-at-home-mothers-through-the-years.htm
Hobson, J. (2003). The “batty” politic: Toward an aesthetic of the black female body. Hypatia18(4), 87-105.  doi 68.0.192.230
Kentake, M.  (2017).  Sarah Baartman: The first known Black female victim of trafficking.
Retrieved from: http://theweeklychallenger.com/sarah-baartman-the-first-known-black-female-victim-of-trafficking/
Kimble, L.  (2017).  It's a girl! Serena Williams and Alexis Ohanian welcome daughter Alexis Olympia.  Retrieved from: https://people.com/parents/serena-williams-alexis-ohanian-welcome-daughter-alexis-olympia/
Lawson, E.  (2000). Black women’s mothering in a historical and contemporary perspective: Understanding the past, forging the future.  Journal of the Motherhood Initiative for Research and Community Involvement2(2).
Monáe, J. (2018).  Yoga.  AZLyrics.  Retrieved from https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/Janellemone/yoga.html
South African History Online (SAHO).  (2018).  Sara “Saartjie” Baartman. Retrieved            from: http://www.sahistory.org.za/people/sara-saartjie-baartman
Monáe, J. (2018).  Yoga.  AZLyrics.  Retrieved from https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/
Janellemone/yoga.html


No comments:

Post a Comment