What’s the word of the month? Cleavage, of course. But the raging argument of the past week raises questions that go beyond the Deepika Padukone incident.
Do you know that arrows pointing to body parts exposed accidentally or otherwise, are rampant online? That there are entire websites dedicated to wardrobe malfunctions?
That photographers are especially assigned cleavage and up-skirt shots like editors once assigned nature or portrait shots? That the voyeuristic display of women’s lives (using hidden cameras in bathrooms, hotel rooms and changing rooms) does thriving business?
Objectification of the woman’s body is today a highly profitable business model. But worse, it is now so entrenched in our collective consciousness that we no longer think there is anything wrong in it. The editor, who ran the Deepika story and its subsequent defence, is a woman.
A world that is controlled by men richly rewards the display of the female anatomy. Not just monetarily but with other forms of social approbation — beauty crowns, male praise, media stardom.
This manipulates women to participate in their own objectification. Once they are part of it, if they dare to protest, they are accused of hypocrisy. Deepika’s body image is then seen as “owned” by the public and her as having no right to object. Look at some reader comments: “the only way to teach a lesson… is to boycott her movies”, “I couldn’t find much cleavage — maybe that’s the real problem?”, “who exactly does she think she is fooling?”
This is the language of ownership.
Women become part of objectification for another reason: empowerment. Instead of being victims of the male gaze, they try to universalise the gaze by taking away the aspect of titillation. They wear revealing clothes or pose sexually in order to wrest back control of their bodies; to fight against society’s efforts to control female sexuality by dictating what women can wear or reveal.
While this is a legitimate argument, adopting male behavioural patterns will not work simply because women do not yet control the money.
As long as men are the largest consumers and controllers of media, there will always be more demand for objectified female bodies than male; pornography will be about humiliating and injuring women; women volleyball players will be paid for what they wear, not how they play.
Participating then ceases to be about female empowerment and becomes what Ariel Levy has called the sexualisation of a woman’s self-worth. Girls begin to worry more about their bodies, hair and clothes than about their minds or skill sets, setting the clock back several decades. Boys don’t.
The answer lies, perhaps, in knowing where to draw the line. A woman must celebrate her beauty and sexuality, but on her own terms. Wearing a dress that shows off a beautiful body can be empowering but not if the persuasion or gaze lies outside the woman’s control. That’s why women must ask if a mud-wrestling contest held for a male audience empowers or enslaves them. And editors must ask if pointing to a cleavage with an arrow celebrates or denigrates women.
