Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Love For Sale!




Through the hard work and relentless efforts of their foremothers, 21st century women are afforded a multitude of personal freedoms. Yet television shows, films and novels about this modern women all lead us to the same conclusion: women are still unable to find satisfaction in their lives. Many mediums of the current era would lead us to believe that it is romantic dissatisfaction that is bringing the female gender down. Taking a close look at the messages being transmitted by the different mediums of the media, including film and television, it is clear that lack of fulfillment within the parameters of their personal lives is definitely of issue for many women. Modern women have the freedom to live, work and even have sex like men, but it seems to be leaving them lacking. What is it, exactly, that has failed these women, feminism, capitalism, or both? In a society where everything can be bought and sold, and the very idea of romance been turned into a commodity, has sexual liberation led women to see their sexuality is terms of its exchange value? Through an exploration of an episode of Sex and the City titled “The Power of the Female Sex,” and the Steven Soderbergh’s film, “The Girlfriend Experience,” it becomes clear that American culture is taking commodification of the individual to a frightening extreme; love itself is being consumed by American society.

The American society that was first introduced to Betty Friedan’s controversial book, The Feminine Mystique, was a society much different than that of 21st century America. Friedan uncovered what she called a “problem that has no name,” which she described as an internal sense of weakness in women that resulted from the lack of independence in their lives (qtd. in Busch 1). It was her belief that women could not be happy because, by keeping women isolated in the domestic sphere, society was not allowing them to live up to their full potential (Busch 1). One would think that once the problem was diagnosed and the cure was determined, it would only be a matter of time until American women found themselves liberated from their frustration and unhappiness. While it is true that women now have legal rights, access to education, entrance into the professional sphere, and control over their own reproductive and sexual organs, there remains an emptiness and discontent deep within a vast majority of American women (Busch 3). According to sociologist Elizabeth Busch, this phenomenon is occurring because of what she coins the “feminist mystique,” a damaging ideology which commands women to discard all traditional female roles, renounce traditional feminine traits, and refuse any help from men by striving for autonomy (4). These strict limitations pressure women to trade in their traditional feminine roles for the part of “the sexually liberated professional” (Busch 5). But this move does not shift women into a new role of their own so much as encourage them to now model themselves after just as impossible an example as the ideal female; now they find themselves striving towards the example set by men. In this way, feminism is subjecting women to another type of ideological slavery rather than setting them free.

Further complicating the situation is the fact that these women find themselves searching for a way to compete in an increasingly consumptive society. According to Baudrillard, “Consumption is an active mode of relations, a systematic mode of activity and a global response on which our whole cultural system is founded” (417). 21st century women find themselves struggling for power in a society in which virtually everything is a prospective possession. Marvin Prosono asserts in his article, “Fascism of the Skin,” that such a society “commodifies everything in its path, including the body, thus subtly shifting the manner in which the mind itself incorporates the body into its calculations” (635). This places women in a precarious situation, as a group they must now find a way to struggle against another group that has historically oppressed them, and yet, as Simone de Beauvoir points out in her book, The Second Sex, “she is the Other in a totality of which the two components are necessary to one another” (5). Because they find themselves trapped in a “can’t live with them, can’t live without them” type scenario with men, some women are lead to believe that when it comes to the battle of the sexes, they “have the right to use every means at their disposal to achieve power” (Sex and the City). And nothing, not even the commodification of their own love, affection, and sexuality, is off limits.

New York, as a keystone city in the US capitalist society, is a perfect setting to examine how feminism and consumerism are merging, and the affect this merger is having on women in society. “Sex and the City,” an incredibly popular television show that is based on a book by New York columnist Candace Bushnell, is set in this capitalist Mecca. It is considered by many women to be an incredibly progressive, modern, and radical look at women that carries a strong message of female empowerment. But although it is marketed as a series with a focus on the friendship between four strong, successful and independent New York women, each and every episode inevitably revolves around male / female relationships. Many women feel they can “see themselves” in one or several of the characters, and identify with the inability of these female protagonists to decipher the root of their inability to feel completely satisfied despite their successful lives (Busch 2). Though Carrie and her three friends certainly are not dependant on men, they are consumed by the thought of obtaining them, and as a result much of the shows focus is devoted to the pursuit of the very gender they are attempting to convince the women of the world they don’t really need.

The episode titled, “The Power of the Female Sex,” remains faithful to this typical plot arc. In this episode, Carrie is experiencing a bit of a financial crisis. Her bills are piling up, and when she is trying to cheer herself up with a little shoe shopping, the judgmental sales clerk at Dior takes a pair of scissors to her credit card. But like kismet, Carrie’s old friend Amelita arrives and purchases the expensive footwear for Carrie, with a shimmering platinum card belong to a man she only refers to as Carlos. Carrie describes Amelia as a woman who’s “life was a blur of rich men, designer clothes and glamorous resorts” (Sex and the City). It is also made clear that Amelita does not possess what one would consider to be a conventional job. What she does possess, however, is “a dazzling sexual power that she exploited to her full advantage” (Sex and the City). It seems that Amelita is cognizant of the consumerist society that she lives in, a society which “does not structure social relations: it demarcates them in a hierarchical repertoire. It is formalized in a universal system of recognition of social statuses: a code of ‘social standing’” (Baudrillard 415). This places Amelita in an odd position, as she dances on the line “between professional girlfriend and just plain professional” (Sex and the City). Amelita is aware of the exchange value of her sexuality, and therefore is using it as a kind of financial leverage. But for a woman like Amelita, “to decline to be the Other, to refuse to be a party to the deal- this would be for women to renounce all the advantages conferred upon then by their alliance with the superior caste” (Beauvoir 5). She sees her relationships with men in a purely consumerist way, and bases then on exchange value. Simply put, she has something men want, and she capitalizes on that fact.

When Carrie later meets a rich, French architect through Amelita, they spend one fantastic night together before he has to leave the country the next day. Carrie wakes up in his hotel bed with a smile, only to find he has left her one thousand dollars cash on the nightstand.“What about me screams whore?” she asks her girlfriends, whom she has invited to the hotel room to have breakfast on the Frenchman’s tab. Samantha’s reply is curt and to the point. “I don’t know what you are getting so uptight about,” she asks. “Money is power, sex is power, therefore getting money for sex is simply an exchange of power,” (Sex and the City) she explains, drawing shocked faces from her three female companions. Samantha is a character that has efficiently shed the traditional female role and as a result she sees what transpired between Carrie and the architect as a clean and simple business transaction. As feminist and gender theorist Judith Butler would say, the traditional female role is just a performance (Barker 298). However, what Samantha doesn’t appear to be aware of is that by attempting to behave like a man, she is still performing. Carrie feels hurt because in her eyes there was a connection with the man, and he cheapened it, with his envelope full of cash and “thanks for the good time” bedside note. Carrie ends the conversation with the curt remark that she had established her rate for a one night stand. Though a trade did take place, Carrie does not feel like she was in control at all, demonstrating Beauvoir’s theory that “what particularly signalizes the situation of women is that she - a free and autonomous being like all human creatures – nevertheless finds herself living in a world where men compel her to assume the status of the Other” (10). Carrie’s sarcastic statement expresses the fact that she now realizes the value her body hold as a commodity, but she is unsure as to whether she wants to allow it to be on the market.



Steven Soderbergh’s film revolves around another Manhattan socialite, who is nearly impossible to differentiate from Carrie and her girlfriends at first glance. She too shops at Dior, wears 400 dollar stilettos and dines in fabulous restaurants with sophisticated men. But this young woman is a high class escort, who specializes in giving her clients something called “the girlfriend experience.” The film defines the girlfriend experience as dinner, conversation, affection, in addition to the sex; it is basically intimacy with an expiration date. The protagonist of the film is Christine Brown, a twenty two year old girl next door type, thin, pale and pretty. The film is set against the backdrop of the 2009 presidential election and financial crisis, and Christine, like many other people during that time, is concerned with securing herself financially. What sets her apart is the uniqueness of her business, which revolves around a persona she calls Chelsea. Through this fluid and flexible persona Christine peddles her products: a presence, a personality and a sexual body, all tailored to each individual client. As she states in the film, she must “adapt and become something they want” (Girlfriend Experience). In a high class society obsessed with ultimate gratification, Christine Brown has found a way to capitalize on the objectification of the female form; she has completely transformed the art of romance into a marketable commodity.

As asserted by Baudrillard, “Any buying process is an interaction between the personality of the individual and the so-called personality of the product itself” (Baudrillard 411). Because Chelsea is selling these men the experience of a genuine girlfriend, she must take great care to generate authentic merchandise for them, or lose their business. This is always on her mind; no matter how affectionate she may seem to be, she never loses sight of the fact that “this is a transactional situation, a business” (Girlfriend Experience). This commerce-based focus is emphasized by Christine’s ongoing attention to branding herself, expanding her business, and increasing her rates. Throughout the course of the film, she engages in as many business meetings as she does interactions with clients. She has a web designer, a business manager, and a financial advisor, all occupied with ideas in regard to how to better market the commodity that is her body. “This business is all about appearance. If you weren’t beautiful, you wouldn’t be in it,” (Girlfriend Experience) one of them reminds her during a business lunch, emphasizing the fact that for Christine, her appearance is her livelihood. This attention to the details which make her appear to be an investment in pleasure are also in line with Baudrillard’s “System of Objects,” which states that “One of the fundamental tasks of all advertising, and of every project destined to promote sales, should be to permit the consumer freely to enjoy life and confirm his right to surround himself with products that enrich his existence and make him happy” (Dichter qtd. in Baudrillard 410). This is why Christine is meticulous in both her appearance and her words, even going so far as to keeps detailed records of every transaction with a client, in order to keep their lives, interests, and preferences straight and met. This is a crucial element to the business of being “Chelsea,” because this illusionary interest in the clients themselves is what elevates Christine out of ordinary call girl status; “She puts on the charade of friendship” (Johnson). “This is what I like about what we do,” one client says to Christine / Chelsea when they are about to engage in sex and she remembers to ask him about an important business deal he had pending. “We are always exchanging!” he exclaims (Girlfriend Experience). There is humor and irony in his assertion, they are always exchanging, but not in the manner in which he is implying. She is not trading power for power; she is exchanging her body for his cash. She “has not been socially emancipated through man’s need-sexual desire,” (Beauvoir 5) but rather, has adjusted to it.

Not surprisingly, Christine’s adjustment to the opportunities that the sexual freedoms of women can garner in a society built upon commodification has a negative effect on her own personal life. Karl Marx talked of the alienation that would occur when workers were separated from their product (Barker 13). But what if the workers are themselves the product? Christine often times throughout the film appears to be alienated from her own life and her own pleasure. Her boyfriend, Chris, is a one hundred and twenty five dollars an hour personal trainer who is clearly capitalizing off his physical form in his own way. He is even approached for a trip to Vegas by one of his clients; the man wants to pay his way on the trip, so that he can cash in on Chris’ presence as a “chick magnet” (Girlfriend Experience). The relationship between Chris and Christine is more like a business partnership than a relationship, with most of their talk revolving around her client comparisons and how to improve rates. Lasch characterized this sort of behavior in the western world as a product of the ‘culture of survivalism,’” in which “self-centered individuals become increasingly apathetic as a consequence of being enmeshed in a consumer culture that offers the good life but delivers only a hollow echo of meaningfulness” (Barker 164). Chris seems to feel affection towards her, and be interested in receiving it in return, but Christine appears to be sold out of it.



This flat affect and decreasing ability to muster up emotion proves to be Christine’s downfall. There is a new escort in town, “Tara,” beginning to cut into Christine’s business. Tara is just a little taller, a little flashier and a little bubblier than Christine’s performance as “Chelsea.” As a result she begins to lose clients to Tara, who is offering up a better “girlfriend experience.” This is reflective of Baudrillard’s theory that “within the very framework of this homogeneous system, we can observe the unfolding of an always renewed obsession with hierarchy and distinction” (416-417). The clientele these women are striving for are extremely high profile individuals, they are always going to be obsessed with finding the best product they can. And Chelsea and Tara are both marketable commodities at their core, and “all products are offered today as a specific acronym: each product worthy of the name has a brand name” (Baudrillard 414). The loyalty these men feel towards any particular escort is comparable to their loyalty to a car manufacturer; show them a better product, and they will happily “trade up.” What Chelsea fails to understand is that “she has made herself into the image of a product, and effectively become an “object of self-negation,” and as such, she has inadvertently also made herself very much disposable (Prosono 650).

Carrie receives the offer of a lifestyle that is strikingly similar to Christine Brown’s. When she meets with Amelita again, she is introduced to a new rich and available-for-trading man. He offers to whisk her off on a trip to Venice and Carrie realizes the position she is standing on the cusp of. She says, “I realized I could leverage myself like the human equivalent of a sexy junk bond” (Sex and the City). She was able to see that her very body had “become an emporium, over every detail of which a commodity may be marketed (Prosono 650). But, “one of the fundamental problems of prosperity is to sanction and to justify its enjoyment, to convince people that making their life enjoyable is moral, not immoral” (Dichter qtd. in Baudrillard 410). When the rich Italian gentleman grabs her suggestively she feels revolted and walks away, thinking that money troubles or not, she is going to walk away with her morals intact because she realizes that “for him she is sex, absolute sex, no less,” (Beauvoir 3) and she knows that she wants more than that from her interactions with the opposite sex than a relationship of commodity exchange. Carrie realizes that the reality of “having sex like men” is “affairs we try to forget as quickly as possible” because they are, at their core, “business deals, not romance” (Busch 7).

Though these two pieces end in very different ways, both the selected episode of Sex and the City and “The Girlfriend Experience” demonstrate is that in some ways feminism and sexual liberation, when combined with a consumerist society in the throes of commodity fetishism, can have detrimental effects on women. But it must be remembered, “if woman seems to be the inessential which never becomes the essential, it is because she herself fails to bring about this change” (Beauvoir 4). Sex and the City investigates the feminist concept of sexual liberation, and in the end wind up “rejecting “the contention that women can win the sex war by becoming as sexually explicit, demanding, and free as men,” (Busch 5) while The Girlfriend Experience” inadvertently demonstrates the failures of sexual liberation in a highly consumerist society. “Consumption, in so far as it is meaningful, is a systematic act of the manipulation of signs,” (Baudrillard 418) and it is clear that it is the signs ‘love,’ ‘relationship,’ and ‘intimacy’ that are being consumed in this film. In the end, though some see Sex and the City as surprisingly retrograde, it proves itself to be very radical, because it actually gives women options in an honest, frank manner. Women can have it any way they want it, according to the show, but there are consequences, no matter what road you choose. At the end of this particular Sex and the City episode, Carrie is able to walk away from self-commodification, still optimistic about her options in terms of romance. In contrast, at the conclusion of The Girlfriend Experience, Christine has traded in her limo rides to five star restaurants for a cab ride to a sleazy tryst in the back of a business. This is because, as long as “people define themselves in relation to objects,” (Baudrillard 413) rather than in relation to other people, they will remain on this path towards the commodification of the individual, romance and even love.







Works Cited and Consulted

Barker, Chris. Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. 3rd ed. Sage Publications Ltd,2008. Print

Baudrillard, Jean. "The System of Objects." Literary Theory: An Anthology. 2nd ed. Ed. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Malden: Blackwell, 2004. 408-19. Web.

Beauvoir, Simone de. The Second Sex. Bantam Books: 1965 Web.

Busch, Elizabeth Kaufer. “Ally McBeal to Desperate Housewives: A Brief History of the Postfeminist Heroine.” Perspectives on Political Science. Mar 22, 2009. Web. 1 December 2009.

Johnson, Brian D. “A New Kink in Cinema’s Porn Habit.” Maclean’s. Toronto: July 6, 2009. Vol 122, Iss 25/26. P 73. Web. 12 December 2009.

Prosono, Marvin T. “Fascism of the Skin: Symptoms of Alienation in the Body of Consumptive Capitalism.” Current Sociology. 2008; 56: 635-655. Web. 11 October 2009.

The Girlfriend Experience. dir Steven Soderbergh. per Sasha Grey.2929 Productions. 8 July 2009. DVD

“The Power of the Female Sex.” Sex and the City: The Complete First Season. 1998. DVD

Real Romance's Buzz-Kill = The Rom-Com


Personally, I think the romantic comedy genre is far from innocuous. It pushes an ideological agenda that is anything but healthy to the average human psyche. For what do we learn from this gimmicky variety of film? Happiness and fulfillment come only to those who are in a couple. It does not matter what you do for a living, what your social circle is like, what your habits and hobbies might be. You will have a big, black vortex in your life until you find that other person to COMPLETE you. But in reality if you aren’t a complete you when you meet someone, the relationship has little chance of survival. So the rom-com sets people up for failure.

Where are the movies that demonstrate what it is actually like when you are in love? It isn’t all roses and candlelight, and it isn’t all witty banter. In real life when you lie and manipulate you don’t end up with a perfect make-up and a happily ever after. You end up with hurt feelings and emotional baggage. They yell cut after the couple gets back together the first time in these films for a reason. They don’t want you to see that the cycle is going to continue another seven times and that it might also end in divorce court.



But my real issue is WHY they do this. More than any other genre of film, it seems that the rom-com pushes a consumerism culture and a social agenda on its viewer. We have to buy, buy, buy all this stuff so that we can be better, like the couple we see on the screen. This way we can attract the perfect heterosexual life mate and live the rest of our lives out in monogamous bliss.



The problem with this is we do not all fit the mold. And if we don’t, this genre of film leaves us feeling bad about ourselves.

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Virgina Woolf?



Though it was written more than 50 years ago, Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex it is still applicable in a lot of ways. Women really don’t have a past, a history or a religion of their own. Though we have come a long way, we still live in a male dominated world, and we often times have to play by their rules if we want to play at all. I have often wondered why it is that the struggle for equality for women has been so slow, why so many women just accept things as they are, or worse, side with the status quo and label women who do not trouble makers or femi-nazis. But de Beauvoir said several things that put it into perspective for me. Her point about a lack of unification amongst women and a simultaneous unbreakable bond with men was so obvious a point and yet I had never really thought about it along those lines before. There are so many factors that can divide women: race, religion, sexuality, socio-economic status. Our need for men is basic, biological. And then there is the cultural aspect. Females are also taught from an early age that they “need” men, whereas males are taught to stand on their own, and “be men.” Boys grow up learning the importance of “bros before hoes” while girls grow up seeing each other as competition.

While reading de Beauvoir I thought about Virginia Woolf, which reminded me of last semester. A teacher had assigned the class a reading from “A Room of One’s Own.” When we returned to class the next day, a male student in the class began our discussion by asserting that he had no interest in having a dialogue about “useless female drivel like this.” When further questioned he told us all that he had not yet read a female writer worthy of his time. He said the things that females wrote about had nothing pertinent to give to male readers. His response to Woolf (and all female writers, apparently) was eye opening for me. As a lit student I spend a lot of my time reading male writers and I have never once thought to reject them on the basis of their sex. But judging by the chuckles in the room that day from other male students, I would venture to guess that there are more people than I would have imagined still believing that female writers as prolific as Virginia Woolf are worthless based upon the fact that they have ovaries rather than testicles. Wow…just wow.