Feminist Winter Term: Literature, Inclusion, and Privilege

Sorry, readers! Blogger's been acting up, but we can post now!

In which Molly and Colleen blog via Gchat a la Sexist Beatdown...even though they are sitting next to each other. (And listening to Destiny's Child.)

Colleen: So yesterday at Feminist Winter Term, we headed to the Feminist Press, where we heard from the publishers and interns who work there. They publish obscure or out-of-print works and current work relating to women's issues. One question they asked us was, "What do you read?" I think we were both feeling like we had to respond with a bunch of feminist titles, and a lot of Winter Termers did.

Molly: Talking about the literature I love with other feminists is always scary for me. I'm painfully aware of the fact that I enjoy and value a lot of literature that does not necessarily enjoy or value female characters. When one of the Feminist Press staff members asked what we were currently reading, I stopped myself before I told the group my current "affair" (one of the staffers made the brilliant observation that beginning a new book is like starting a new love affair). Bright Lights, Big City is an exceptionally written book featuring dynamic, complex male characters and exceptionally flat, one-dimensional women. Not too many feminist nutrients in this one.

Colleen: I do recall you saying that you were into the Beats and that you could be frustrated with their misogyny but still really like them. And yeah, I totally wrote a similar blog a few posts ago, but we had a really fabulous conversation following this discussion at Feminist Press.

Also I'm so glad we're listening to Destiny's Child right now.

Molly: The clothes I'm wearing? I bought 'em. No really, I did. But seriously, the intersection of the WGS department and the English department this past semester forced me to acknowledge the fact that I read a lot of literature written by the very dead white guys I get angry at in the political part of my brain. Yes, I have relegated politics and fiction (including poetry) to separate areas of my brain. An act of force and desperation. Not to be dramatic.

Colleen: No, it makes sense. And it's entirely possible, as I said before, to critically engage with something that is politically troubling and still find it very wonderful literature. And all of that is in more detail in the older post, and in even better detail on Tiger Beatdown. But I think what we were talking about before, and what we oughta be talking about now, is what we're expected, if that's the right word, to be reading.

Molly: all my independent women throw your hands up at me

Colleen: Hands up. And anyway, like when they asked us what we were reading, everyone was like, "THIS SUPER RADICAL FEMINIST BOOK BY A SUPER RADICAL QUEER THEORIST" which is totally fine, but I was like, um, well, right now I'm reading Pride and Prejudice, but after that I'm going to read The Corrections. And probably some more books by men. OOPS.

Molly: I've read a lot of feminist literature as of late, including both the pop-feminism type books that Jessica Valenti and Courtney Martin write, and some more heady, academic stuff. And I think what I struggle most with is reconciling what I believe I "should" be reading with what I really crave. Sometimes it's just not as fun for me to read books that upset me or make me think long and hard about things that need to be change; I'd rather get wrapped up in a great story, and carried away from everything for a while. Which is not to say that literature doesn't have political and social implications - it totally does! Everyone knows it does! But sometimes it's really hard for me to balance reading books that I know are IMPORTANT to read with books that I think are delicious.

I also read a lot of feminist blogs every day, and I often feel like that's my "medicine" or my "required" feminist reading.

Even though I love reading them.

Colleen: SO true. And that is particularly relevant after our visit to Bust Magazine. I know some Winter Termers found that visit frustrating because, yeah, Bust doesn't exactly cover all issues, it can be heteronormative and doesn't really consider class and race all that much. For the most part, it seems like a magazine for young straight ladies. And sure, I can say, "That's not fully feminist, there are so many things they're not covering," and I do say that, I recognize it, but at the same time...I'm a young feminist lady who likes pop culture and crafts, and liking those things (and also boys) and reading a magazine that caters to those interests doesn't disqualify me from Feminism(s) at Large. And Bust has never claimed to be a magazine for Feminism(s) at Large...they simply saw a gap in the media and decided to fill it with things they thought were awesome. They started out by making things that they and their friends enjoyed. And they can still have an impact on media and how readers and advertisers think about the ladies without necessarily approaching it on a really broad, completely inclusive scale.

And there were Winter Termers who were like, "That was so weird when they were like, 'Ooh, yeah, there's more flirting when there are men in the office,'" and I can see why they felt iffy about that, but also maybe that is true and that is how they talk and I think there is a balance one may find between running around going FUCK THE KYRIARCHY and also going LET'S BE LIGHTHEARTED. 

And I do feel awkward saying that because I know so many people who go, "You have no sense of humor/fun" when I get mad at them for making jokes, so I feel like I'm doing the same thing when I defend Bust, but...yes.

Molly: I read Bust and love it and know exactly what you're talking about. But I still struggle with the fact that the magazine seems to appeal to a very very particular kind of feminist. Although, Amy said some really interesting things after our visit about how Bust was always this way and has never tried to be anything else. Which can be okay.

Colleen: Yeah! Like no one ever said fishing magazines really oughta be covering trapping and bow hunting too.

 Actually, I have no facts to support that...nor do I think that fishing holds some kind of privilege over trapping and bow hunting OH COLLEEN THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIMPLE ANALOGY, SHUT UP

Molly: I think the theme here is that it's really easy to feel inadequate. Which sounds really whiney and privileged. Which makes me feel further inadequate. But I think that can be a reality in any sort of activist community - you're never critical enough of the culture, and you're always leaving someone out. Which is why I loved what Latoya Peterson said about how dangerous it is to think like or act like your feminism is the only feminism.

Or as Beyonce eloquently says, "I'm a survivor, keep on survivin"

"out of all the darkness and sadness, still comes happiness"

Colleen: Exactly! Like, engage in feminism, often in ways that are good for you, but constantly remind yourself that there is so much more to be done, and that people like us, who are privileged in every way except in our ladyness (i.e. we are white, hetero, cis, college-educated, etc, and yes, this is very much inspired by the Tiger Beatdown post "13 Ways of Looking at Liz Lemon" which remains one of my elementary feminist texts), are obligated to use our privilege to influence things beyond our white/hetero/etc sphere.

Molly: wow you are sure typing a lot

Colleen: But also, to get back to a point about literature that we started out on...whoa tangent whole blog post whoa...I don't think that being a feminist means that you must read explicitly feminist books all the damn time, which I think was the vibe we were getting sometimes. I was afraid that if I said to some of these folks that I read Philip Roth and John Updike and sometimes--gasp--I like their stuff, they'd be like "SHUN THE BAD FEMINIST." Of course I do not think this would actually have happened, like I'm sure all of these fine ladies and gentlemen read a variety of books, and the work done at Feminist Press to publish things that aren't by misogynist old white dudes (Great American Novelists to everyone else) is really important because it brings variety to the literary table. 

And today at Bluestockings, the radical bookstore where I did my internship, I thought about that a lot. Like, it's great that Bluestockings shelves really great books by ladies and about ladies and about queer theory and sex and social movements that wouldn't be so highlighted elsewhere, and also that Bluestockings provides a space for feminist people to come in and talk about feminist issues and anarchy and menstruation. But if I only read the books at Bluestockings I'd feel like my reading was one-sided. So what I'm trying to say is, it's a great place, but it shouldn't be your only source--and to expand that, feminism is awesome, and it should color everything that you do, but it shouldn't take over everything that you do, if that makes sense. Unless you want it to, in which case that's great. But for now I'll keep bell hooks next to John Updike if I want to.

BUT THERE'S MORE:

Email: Colleen to Molly, 12:58 am:

Also a lot of things I thought about in the shower that I want to add in:

I don't think I can confidently say that I know a lot of things about literature, but if there is one thing I know for sure it is that we all have something to learn from each other. And I think that is probably also true of humanity. This made me think especially about debates in educational circles about what to teach the kiddies.

There are a lot of people saying that canonical works aren't exactly relevant to, say, black students at impoverished schools. And there are the people who say that many canonical works, even if they're by dead white men, are still about the human condition and can be quite universal--they say this especially about Shakespeare, and I agree. But basically this argument comes down to, "The dead white men, well, they're fine for those kids in the suburbs, but what do we teach poor kids in urban schools?" And I'm like...who says dead white men are fine for the kids in the suburbs? We should ALL be reading works by a variety of authors.

If we're going to put every writer into categories of race/sex/gender/class/sexual orientation, let's face it, every writer is going to be in a particular subset. Obviously no one is going to transcend them, everyone's going to be in some kind of permutation of categories. And to suggest that a person in one permutation can't be relevant to a reader who fits into another permutation is rather absurd. To suggest that Shakespeare and Twain can't be relevant to someone who is, unlike them, nonwhite or queer is ridiculous, and to suggest that, say, Toni Morrison isn't relevant to me just because I'm white is also ridiculous.

I know that there's a different dynamic of privilege there, but my point is that writers are generally trying to talk to everybody. I think we all recognize that despite differences in circumstance, people DO share some universal emotions and experiences, and that means that writers of all circumstances have universal experiences, stemming out of particular circumstances, to talk about with everybody else.

SLEEP

Hating sexism, loving English literature

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Girls Will Be Boys: Projecting Societal Conceptions of Gender onto Children

On my way to work the other morning, I overheard a really unsettling conversation on a radio talk show. The hosts were in the midst of a discussion about Angelina Jolie & Brad Pitt's 4-year-old daughter, Shiloh. Normally, I don't get involved in celebrity gossip, but this caught my attention for several reasons. First, who the heck talks about a 4-year-old on national, local, or any kind of radio? Secondly, don't we all have better things to do and bigger problems to worry about? Above all, though, I was particularly intrigued and disturbed by their discussion of Shiloh's gender presentation.Apparently, it is a huge-freaking-deal that Shiloh Jolie-Pitt dresses in tracksuits and wants her hair cut short. The radio commentators suggested that Shiloh, who was recently spotted in a pair of boy's swimming trunks, is becoming "a little dyke." This issue is, in fact, so pressing that not only have DJs devoted minutes of their shows to the Shiloh J.P. lesbian conspiracy, but trusted news sources (Life & Style, US Weekly, People) have followed suit. Life & Style brought to the forefront the question that has clearly been on all of our minds: through allowing Shiloh to wear clothes marketed for boys and not exposing her to enough "girlie things," are Brad and Angelina ruining their child's life? Why would they do this to her? Stop being totally unfit parents and put the girl in a dress already!

My limited knowledge of and level of concern for the Pitt-Jolie family not withstanding, let me tell you that I absolutely do not care what Shiloh chooses to wear, say, or do. As a matter of fact, I have very few limitations to what I find acceptable in the realm of childhood self-expression. I was a wild woman, as my parents allowed me to dress myself, and I came up with all sorts of ensembles featuring wacky hats, mixed patterns, and gratuitous accessories. But through this experimentation, especially at an age when I was still mostly unaware of all that is trendy or socially acceptable, I became completely confident in any way I chose to present myself to the world. Therefore, it blows my mind that full-grown adults utilize the choices of one little girl, who is unknowingly and unintentionally in the public eye, to launch discussions of what is and isn't acceptable for girls and boys.

This whole "is she or isn't she a girl?" controversy makes it remarkably evident that gender policing begins at an incredibly young age. From the moment we are wrapped in a pink or blue blanket and welcomed into the world to the time when we are able to make our own informed decisions and analyses, we are under the careful guidance of the adults in our lives. They are the ones who will teach us how we should and shouldn't interact with the rest of the world, and will help us shape our future beliefs and senses. And to make this impact, we can't just worry about what our kids are wearing. We have to worry about what they're playing with:


















(Above: one of the bestselling boy's toys and of the bestselling girl's toys on target.com)

We have to worry about what they're reading:



















We even have to worry about what they're watching, thinking, eating... we have to worry a lot. If we are not extra vigilant, our children will become the next feature on the KISS FM morning show.

We give little girls purses and credit cards so they can practice going into debt after one too many shopping sprees & applying their lipstick while weaving through morning traffic. We give little boys miniature axes and tools to they can practice putting their lives in danger while pursuing heroic professions. We give little girls books such as the Twilight series so they can daydream about becoming a two-dimensional character who waits for a mysterious man to sweep her off of her feet, teaching them lessons that will no doubt trickle into their day to day lives. We give little boys books such as The Day My Butt Went Psycho (which is, mind you, based on a true story) so that they can not only laugh about the unsurpassed humor which is the runaway buttocks, but so that they can find pleasure in reading as an escape from what is real. Granted, these are all exaggerations and generalizations, but what we can draw from them is that we treat girls and boys much differently (duh...), and therefore, expect different things from them.

By putting these examples in place, we are telling children that girls and boys will want to do, say, wear, and be different things. By not having prevalent examples of possible transgressions for these norms, we are saying to kids that some things are just for boys and some are just for girls. And this is how children learn to police gender. If a girl, like Shiloh, wants to wear pants, it is apparently okay to call her out for being out of the ordinary. If a boy wanted to read Twilight, he might be singled out as odd or even queer. It makes me sad that children learn these labels from adults, and that they become experts at identifying gender at a very young age.

We project our notions of what is right and wrong for different genders onto our children because we don't want them to stand out for not cooperating with these unwritten rules. But through doing this, aren't we just limiting the creativity and expressive ability of future generations? Is there a way we can avoid this, or are gender norms such a built-in component in society that it is impossible not to acknowledge it? Do you think it's possible to raise gender-neutral children? Even though I am less than optimistic after hearing the offensive commentary on the radio the other day, I would like to hear your thoughts. How can we make a move toward gender acceptance or neutrality, especially in terms of children?

Defending Photoshop

Observe Lindsay's magical moving bellybutton!

Yesterday I read this article on Gizmodo: UK's Girl Scouts Cry for New Photoshopped-Images Law for Airbrushed Celebrities. We've heard it before--not only do skinny models perpetuate unrealistic expectations for media-vulnerable girls (and boys), but Photoshop helps make them even skinnier and more flawless.

I'm not a huge fan of these arguments to begin with because blaming thin models for a world of self-image and body issues seems rather narrow-minded. Saying that Barbies and Kate Moss are the sole causes of things like eating disorders overlooks the complexities of body issues, ignores the fact that society perpetuates ideas about desirable physical characteristics in other ways, and doesn't give girls enough credit (are all of us really so easily brainwashed?). I also dislike the way that some advertisements have now begun using the term "real women" when portraying models and actresses who are "curvy." First of all because they still only use women who fit a specific beauty standard, and second because...GUYS, ALL WOMEN ARE REAL. Are we supposed to believe that the thin ones are just holograms?

But back to the point, which is that "Photoshop" has become synonymous with all-out photo manipulation--it's a magic genie that puts embarrassing things in your friends' hands, pops absent family members into group pictures, and, of course, tucks in that model's tummy and erases wrinkles.

I'm not denying that Photoshop is used to make a lot of things totally unrealistic, but I think that some vehement, anti-Photoshop consumers forget that Photoshop, like any superpower, can be used for good or for evil. Let's talk 'shop:

Photographs are not perfect representations of the world as it is. Yes, they can be very accurate, and they can help us understand things that were very difficult or impossible to see pre-photography. But there will always be something that changes when you compress a three-dimensional object into a two-dimensional one. The human eye is incredibly sophisticated, and while cameras can do a lot of things that eyes can't, a camera will never perfectly mimic the way the eye and brain perceive the world.

We all know that a photograph of a beautiful landscape, however lovely the photograph may be, is never quite as good as observing the landscape for yourself. Yes, part of that is the experience of being there--the smells, the sounds, all interacting with and enhancing your sight--but part of that is the simple fact that your eye notices far different things about the landscape and edits it for your brain in different ways than the photograph will. Same with people--when you're interacting with or even merely observing a person, you see that person as a three-dimensional object, and your eye often glosses over certain things without your notice.

During the summer, I work as a self-employed photographer. Most of the pictures I take are senior portraits for kids I know from high school. Recently I shot with a friend-of-a-friend, a girl I met the day of the shoot. Most clients do expect that I'll edit their pictures, because studios do airbrush the hell out of seniors, and I have to compete. And hey, it's your senior portrait, the one that'll be printed in the yearbook, the one people will remember you by. You want to look good.

But I also edit in Photoshop because there are things that show up in photographs that simply aren't noticeable in real life. When I started to flip through the pictures of my new client, I noticed some pimples on her forehead and some tiny hairs below her lip. I wasn't even zoomed in--it's just the way the light highlighted those features. I'd shot with this girl and talked to her for hours. Not once did I observe any of the flaws now glaring at me from the images. In real life, she had great skin and glossy black hair. In many of the photos, her pimples stood out, flyaway hairs (basically invisible to the eye in real life) distracted immensely, and the evening light gave her shiny hair a blue tint.

So yeah, I Photoshopped her pictures. I lightened shadows that fell across her face, I smoothed over the pimples and the facial hair, and took the blue out of her hair. I didn't do it to make her look unlike herself, I did it to make her look more like herself.

(People also ignore the fact that photographers manipulated photographs long before Photoshop. Heck, tools like Dodge and Burn are named for the darkroom processes that preceded them.)

There is, of course, a slippery slope. How do you even look at an image and decide if the camera has put too much or too little emphasis on a feature? If you can airbrush a distracting zit, is it okay to airbrush cellulite or wrinkles because they also wouldn't be as noticeable in person?

I maintain, though, that you can't give Photoshop itself a bad name. A "Photoshopped photo" isn't necessarily one that's been given excessive treatment with the liquify tool. Instead of banning photo manipulation or requiring a disclaimer, can't we educate people, especially children, about the ways that advertisers can change the appearance of an image--and why they do it?

Changing the Face of Feminism

I have spent the majority of my college years in fairly feminist-friendly environments. I've surrounded myself with optimistic, activist-oriented, awesome friends, and I've had pretty open-minded and liberal coworkers/bosses. Words like "slut" and expressions like "that's so gay" hardly ever enter the vernacular, and no one blinks an eye if I don't shave my legs for days, weeks, months on end (though, I should add, showering is a different story.) While at Kenyon we may complain about the attitude of the student body toward feminism, I've gotta say that all in all, things have only improved since my first year. I'd even go so far as to say (dare I?) that Kenyon is becoming an increasingly feminist campus in a lot of ways, mostly because of the perseverance and dedication of the student body to change the way things work in the 'Bier.

So imagine my surprise (saturated with sarcasm) when I attempt to re-enter the "real world" and am bombarded with the consumer-ready image of the angry feminist. Let's take a look at some of the gems I've been privy to during this summer break:

1) Women's Studies: The Horrors of Feminism Exposed
For those of you who haven't seen this preview until now, I am sorry. I just had to share this because it has it all: lesbianism, man-hating, yoga poses in the forest, faux-philosophical conversation about the sexes, and axe murder. If there is a cliché I left out, it is probably because I couldn't keep track of them all past the first 20 seconds of the trailer. To be honest, I cannot remember a time in which I sat in Crozier in a position other than the lotus pose, and I must not like anyone other than women if I spend that much time in the Women's Center. Go figure.

2) MTV's Disaster Date: Pop Culture Portrays the Feminist

For starters, let's not talk about the fact that I actually suffered through an episode of Disaster Date. To my credit, I was home sick and craving mindless television, but nonetheless I must admit that I was intrigued. The premise of Disaster Date, and pretty much any other hidden-camera reality show, is that someone has secretly put their friend in a potentially humiliating and uncomfortable situation. Contestants are set up on blind dates with actors who exhibit every characteristic and behavior that completely irks them. Take for example Antoine, the man who cannot stand "girls who don't shave their legs," "girls who boss him around," and, most of all, "feminists." That's my kind of man right there.

Long story short (you can check out the episode for yourself if you're so inclined: http://www.mtv.com/videos/disaster-date-seas-3-ep-9/1643951/playlist.jhtml), the actor goes to extremes to be exactly the type of "womyn" that Antoine cannot stand. She yells at a man who refers to the waitress by pet names, she displays her hairy legs during the meal thereby causing Antoine to gag, and she shows off her new ink: "WOMYN" in large block letters. Thank goodness this is only a prank, and Antoine walks away about $50 richer for suffering through his not-even-an-hour alone with the feminist wacko.

3) The Good Ol' General Public
While this is something I'd better get used to dealing with on a pretty regular basis, I still experience a lot of frustration in terms of my day to day dealings with people. Whether it's the oh-so-witty responses when I reveal that I am a Women's and Gender Studies Major (i.e.: "What are you gonna do with that? Be a lesbian?" Ha! What an EXCELLENT retort!) or the benevolent sexism of people asking me to take care of others or fetch them coffee because I am the only woman in the room, I have had to devote a great deal of effort to internalizing my feelings. Don't get me wrong, I speak up with I need to, but there are times when I have learned that things are best left unsaid.

The worst part of this, though, is that people make jokes about rape or domestic abuse or something else terrible, and they'll do it simply to get a rise out of me. The words "Don't mess with her, she's a feminist" get tossed around from time to time, and people make a big deal out of my beliefs even when I don't say anything about them. I feel like I'm on constant surveillance, that how I react and behave is continuously being monitored. If I slip up, it's a big deal, and if I don't react at all, it's an even bigger deal.


This is nothing earth-shattering or shocking in the least, but it's the sad truth that some people just expect feminists to adhere to the stereotype. It's sad to me that even in 2010, people think that simply the fact that they might "like cars and beer" (thank you, Lady Gaga quotation from long ago) or might shave their legs instantly means that they have been disqualified from participating in feminism. When will there be a day when feminism really is perceived as being for everybody? What will it take for society to depict feminists of all genders, ethnicites, sexes, socioeconomic backgrounds, sexual orientations, and ages? Why is our go-to image still a loud, angry college or middle-aged white woman with hairy legs?

We've tried the "This is What a Feminist Looks Like" campaign. We've been open about our views with people who know us for more than just our political agendas. We've hosted and planned events and programs targeted at wider populations with the hope that someday, we might capture the attention of someone who would have never attended something branded with the label of "feminism." But how can we start to change the image that has been ascribed to us? It's easy to cling to the label "feminist" because if offers a sense of solidarity and strength, but how can we step away from it for long enough to reclaim it and change its meaning? What is the most effective way to show people that we are more than what the word deems us to be?

The rest of the world is not necessarily like our cozy little haven of Crozier or Kenyon. While not always hostile or intentionally negative toward the cause, people beyond the movement do not necessarily want to hear what it's all about. Keeping that in mind, I think that the reclamation should begin in a place of comfort and solidarity, and that we should work together to create a new vision for today's modern feminist.

Gaga for feminism

Last week a Facebook friend posted a link to a New York Times Opinionator post that claims, "It’s easy to construe [Lady] Gaga as suggesting that frank self-objectification is a form of real power." The author, Nancy Bauer, discusses Lady Gaga not as a feminist heroine but questions if her bizarre performances are "an expression of Lady Gaga’s strength as a woman or an exercise in self-objectification." The discussion takes a couple different forms--first, Bauer relates Gaga's highly sexual antics to worries that women of our age have been hearing over and over since the age of ten: young girls in modern society face pressure from the evil media to be skinny, pretty, submissive, etc.

Visit an American college campus on a Monday morning and you’ll find any number of amazingly ambitious and talented young women wielding their brain power, determined not to let anything — including a relationship with some needy, dependent man — get in their way.  Come back on a party night, and you’ll find many of these same girls (they stopped calling themselves “women” years ago) wielding their sexual power, dressed as provocatively as they dare, matching the guys drink for drink — and then hook-up for hook-up.

Lady Gaga idealizes this way of being in the world.  But real young women, who, as has been well documented, are pressured to make themselves into boy toys at younger and younger ages, feel torn.  They tell themselves a Gaga-esque story about what they’re doing.  When they’re on their knees in front of a worked-up guy they just met at a party, they genuinely do feel powerful — sadistic, even.  After all, though they don’t stand up and walk away, they in principle could.  But the morning after, students routinely tell me, they are vulnerable to what I’ve come to call the “hook-up hangover.”  They’ll see the guy in the quad and cringe.  Or they’ll find themselves wishing in vain for more — if not for a prince (or a vampire, maybe) to sweep them off their feet, at least for the guy actually to have programmed their number into his cell phone the night before.  When the text doesn’t come, it’s off to the next party.

Then Bauer takes a philosophical turn, discussing self-objectification in the context of Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir.

When it comes to her incredibly detailed descriptions of women’s lives, Beauvoir repeatedly stresses that our chances for happiness often turn on our capacity for canny self-objectification.  Women are — still — heavily rewarded for pleasing men.  When we make ourselves into what men want, we are more likely to get what we want, or at least thought we wanted.  Unlike Sartre, Beauvoir believed in the possibility of human beings’ encountering each other simultaneously as subjects and as objects.  In fact, she thought that truly successful erotic encounters positively demand that we be “in-itself-for-itself” with one another, mutually recognizing ourselves and our partners as both subjects and objects.  The problem is that we are inclined to deal with the discomfort of our metaphysical ambiguity by splitting the difference:  men, we imagine, will relentlessly play the role of subjects; women, of objects.  Thus our age-old investment in norms of femininity and masculinity.

I think my main beef with this article is that Bauer bases her "self-objectification" judgment of Gaga on 1) Gaga's unclear personal view of feminism and, most annoyingly, 2) Gaga's (and Beyonce's) skimpy outfits in the "Telephone" video.

Gaga plays a model-skinny and often skimpily dressed inmate of a highly sexualized women’s prison who, a few minutes into the film, is bailed out by Beyoncé.
...
The man who drools at women’s body parts is punished, but then again so is everyone else in the place.  And if this man can be said to drool, then we need a new word for what the camera is doing to Gaga’s and Beyoncé’s bodies for upwards of 10 minutes.

Bauer does acknowledge that "Gaga is explicit in her insistence that, since feminine sexuality is a social construct, anyone, even a man who’s willing to buck gender norms, can wield it," but she seems to view provocative dress as a big no-no for young ladies like ourselves and Gaga.

(Her assumptions the first paragraph I quoted are particularly annoying to me. I am a young lady in college with a reasonable amount of talent and ambition, wielding my brain power and all that. I haven't replaced "woman" with "girl" and though I like boys (or men) I've never desired or felt pressured to become a "toy" for one of them. And I'm not matching all the boys hook-up for hook-up, even if I choose to wear a low-cut top and drink. Also, like Gaga, I am thin and well-proportioned. That doesn't mean either of us has become a prisoner of an evil oppressive beauty standard. So butt out and stop assuming things about my life/worldview/self-esteem. That brain power I'm wielding? It enables me to do things I call Not Being Stupid and Identifying The Difference Between Lady Gaga And Real Life. Who is telling journalists these lies about us?)

I think the "Telephone" video makes it awfully clear that Gaga and Beyonce aren't doing what Bauer discusses using Sartre and Beauvoir, that women are "engaging in [sex], especially when it’s unidirectional, as a form of power." In fact, they're doing the opposite. They may be in a "highly sexualized" environment but they're not doing a damn thing to please any men. They happen to be kinda busy. (K-kinda busy, k-kinda busy.)

Usually when we walk about pop songs objectifying women we mean rap and hip-hop lyrics that talk about women's body parts, compare women to cars and other material items, encourage them to perform sexual favors, blah blah blah. It seems clear to me that Gaga's lyrics, costumes, and videos aren't presenting her as another ass to slap; she's all about kicking ass.

Thoughts?
 
Bonus link, one of my faves: Why Taylor Swift Offends Little Monsters, Feminists, and Weirdos.