Guest Column • Lynn Petrovich
I never thought I’d say this, but I owe a debt of gratitude to Britney Spears. Flipping through TV channels the other day, I caught her latest music video, "Womanizer," which is an epic piece of titillating entertainment that perfectly captures Ms. Spears’ deep appreciation of feminism. I believe the song’s libretto begins like this:
"Womanizer, womanizer, you’re a womanizer.
Womanizer, womanizer, you’re a womanizer."
This repeats for 19 or 20 verses.
In between those scintillating lyrics is a visual display that is absolutely amazing or sexist or degrading, depending upon your perspective. Ms. Spears, wearing skimpy outfits and killer shoes, portrays a variety of traditional female roles from waitress to Wal-Mart clerk to hotel housekeeper — even a corporate hedge fund manager (how promising!). Each worker she emulates (violently) teaches cheating boyfriends a lesson in love. Not one to let down her audience (lest they forget how hot her body is), the camera flashes every 10 seconds to a naked Britney being showered by splashes of water as she writhes uncontrollably on a bed of cottony-soft white linen, which I gathered was some sort of baptismal rite of passage that overexposed, untalented sex kittens go through after giving birth to two beautiful (and healthy) little boys. How else will her children grow up to respect mommy?
All this action takes place in less than four minutes.
That video got me thinking about how much I wish Ms. Spears would just go away. Oh, I don’t mean that I want her to spontaneously combust. What I’m saying is, I think she should visit places where her antics are not widely broadcast (ad nauseam) — you know, places like Sri Lanka or Darfur or Tibet — and see how women struggle every day with sexism and male aggression so intense and damaging that it takes the rest of their lives to overcome the terror. She might even take a walk closer to her own backyard, South Central Los Angeles.
Then and only then will she see that the earth still spins on its axis amid the dark absence of her frolics. And if she learns how her actions exploit, demean, and marginalize women into nothing more than objects ripe for abuse, it’ll be a good day for females on this planet.
Ms. Spears is not alone in the slow but steady degradation of women. A few years back I seem to recall an actress who, after being the first African American to win the Academy Award for best actress, followed up that unprecedented top honor by posing nude on the cover of Gentlemen’s Quarterly. I mean, what other choice did she have? When you’ve struggled to reach the top of the mountain, it’s time to disrobe and say, "Look at me, I made it, and I’m naked!"
Recently The New York Times Magazine did an extensive examination on the overexposure of Hollywood actresses in America. On the cover was a picture of Jennifer Aniston. As readers moved through the crux of the article, they were rewarded by several full-page pictures of Jennifer Aniston standing in a museum gazing at several larger pictures of Jennifer Aniston. Get the point?
Neither did I. But then, in early January — just weeks after The New York Times article, and on my way to see one of the top movies of the year, "Marley & Me" starring Ms. Aniston — I stopped in for a cup of coffee at the local convenience store. Behold, before me was Gentlemen’s Quarterly. And on the cover was a buck-naked Jennifer Aniston.
I guess tens of millions of adoring fans, as well as money pouring in like a faucet, is not enough for these women to be satisfied. What good is all that success if they can’t remind people that they look damn good in their birthday suits? (I heard that Ms. Aniston keeps thin by eating baby food. Wow! There’s another delightful tip for pre-pubescent girls … and what a boon for Gerber!)
O
f course, horrors overcame me
when I saw Valerie Bertinelli — parading around in a bikini on Oprah after shedding pounds on one of those [popular] diets. Valerie even went so far as to actually dive into a pool of water and emerge "wet" on camera! I mean, everyone knows drops of water cling to fat like butter to a baby’s behind. And then I thought how proud her son must be. What teenage boy doesn’t want his friends fantasizing about Mommy?
When will it stop? Botox, tummytucks, liposuction, wrinkle-removal cream. Even laugh lines aren’t safe. Women are brainwashed by a male-dominated media to believe that what’s on the outside is more important than what is on the inside, so much so that they must do anything to trim down and tone up.
Where are young girls to look for sane and competent guidance?
Girls, listen up: Don’t worry about having a fat butt. Just make sure you don’t have a fat head. There’s no treatment for that.
Lynn Petrovich is a resident of the Oakhurst section of Ocean Township.