Labiaplasty is on the rise, thanks to porn culture, pop culture, and irresponsible cosmetic surgeons.
Labiaplasty is on the rise, thanks to porn culture, pop culture, and irresponsible cosmetic surgeons.
Je suis blasée que dans de nombreux post instagram de comptes feministes qui abordent la question des poils, le choix individuel soit autant mis en avant. On a le choix de porter du rouge ou du vert, mais on ne peut pas réellement parler de « choix » sur les poils féminins tant que l’épilation est la norme
#épilation #injonction #beauté #poils
juste pour le plaisir, comme ça, pour rien, une pensée de la nuit entre deux travaux urgents, pour Guston. Voilà.
Laquelle toile vient d’être prise pour couverture sur ce bouquin : ▻https://inculte.fr/produit/sur-fond-demeutes qui lorsque je l’ai vu au printemps m’a produit un drôle d’effet, à quand remontait la dernière fois que j’avais vu une toile de Guston ? Et comment était-il possible que cela fasse sans doute très longtemps (une trentaine d’années je crois, une rétrospective de son travail à l’Art Institute de Chicago du temps où j’y étudiais), aussi longtemps ?
@philippe_de_jonckheere Guston est souvent au cœur de mes conversations sur la peinture, a fortiori parce que son influence chez pas mal d’auteurs de bd indé est marquante (Bertoyas est un fan, par exemple, et ne manque aucune occasion de le faire savoir) et qu’il permet assez bien de mettre en valeur l’axe iconique/pictural souvent source de confusion dans mon monde (mon petit monde d’imagiers)
A three-man crew of slapstick thugs cruises a vacant metropolis in a beat-up jalopy. Wearing Ku Klux Klan hoods, they are plainly up to no good; but rather than invoking a specific evil, these men are symbolic embodiments of a general know-nothing violence. The principal story told here is that of an America run afoul of its democratic promise. Guston refused to exempt himself from responsibility: in other paintings he depicted an artist in Klan robes at his easel.
@l_l_de_mars Ouh là, souvenir on ne peut plus lointain et vague mais maintenant que vous le dites, oui, cela me dit quelque chose. C’est vrai qu’il y a eu une époque, lointaine donc, où on pouvait encore vous intéresser à des trucs peints après 1600.
How Tea Accounts Fuel the James Charles YouTube Feud - The Atlantic
The saga began when a 37-year-old beauty vlogger named Tati Westbrook, whom Charles considered a mentor and mother figure, posted a 44-minute takedown of him, declaring him officially “canceled.” Within a matter of days, Charles had lost nearly 3 million followers. His entire career seemed to be in jeopardy.
Westbrook’s beef with Charles began over something seemingly trivial. Westbrook owns a nutritional-supplement brand called Halo Beauty. Its main competitor is a popular brand called SugarBearHair. Charles posted an ad for SugarBearHair sleep gummies to his Instagram Story at Coachella last month, claiming that it was a last-minute favor after the brand offered him security on-site. Westbrook was livid that Charles would advertise SugarBearHair’s products and not her own, and claimed that there was no way the ad could have been a last-minute favor. Charles posted a tearful apology video to Westbrook later that day.
If this all seems minor and petty, it is. But that’s the appeal.
Westbrook argues in her video that Charles wouldn’t be anywhere without her. She says that she and her husband, a former entertainment executive, negotiated higher rates for Charles’s brand deals and leveraged their connections to get him on the radar of Hollywood power players. Westbrook also remained fiercely loyal to Charles in the wake of previous scandals, such as when he joked about getting Ebola on a school trip to Africa and made transphobic comments on video, writing off his behavior as youthful indiscretions.
But Westbrook said this new betrayal wasn’t the only reason fans should hate Charles. For years, she claimed, she had overlooked Charles’s problematic behavior. She claims that Charles, who is gay, sexually harassed straight men. Westbrook said Charles attempted to “trick a straight man into thinking he’s gay, yet again,” at her recent birthday party. (Charles did not immediately respond to a request for comment and has not addressed the allegations publicly.)
No one other than Westbrook cared about the gummy vitamins, but this last accusation seemed to stick. And as Charles began hemorrhaging followers and Westbrook began gaining them, influential channels exploited the situation. These drama channels, often called tea accounts, painstakingly documented every incremental update on the feud and shared them live, around the clock, on social media until they became too big to ignore.
Tea accounts, so called because the word tea is slang for juicy information, are like online gossip magazines on steroids. They are networks of Instagram pages, YouTube channels, Twitter handles, and Facebook groups, many of them run by young fans and observers, though some tea-account admins are in their 30s or even 40s. They have names such as Shook, Spill, What’s the Tea?, and Tea by Ali and serve as real-time news sources for millions. “My channel is Investigations all through the week. Some more serious, some more fun,” the bio of one tea account reads. Many tea accounts are monetized, and Social Blade, a social-analytics platform, estimates that Tea Spill alone is earning up to $65,000 a month. Running a successful channel is also a fast track to clout in the influencer world. Successful tea channels can amass tens of thousands of followers overnight.
Young people are desperate for news about influencers, a category of people the mainstream press often ignores or patronizes. They also want that news delivered 24/7 through social-media channels.
For those who aspire to create a tea account, the barrier to entry is incredibly low. In fact, it’s mostly teenagers who run them. “They’re aggregating Insta stories, Snapchats, likes on tweets, monitoring who unfollows who,” says Josh Cohen, the founder and CEO of Tubefilter, a website covering YouTube.
Influencers such as Westbrook and Charles don’t just follow tea accounts. They interact with them on a regular basis by feeding them stories, granting interviews, and attempting to shape their own narratives. Westbrook says she spoke with two tea accounts, Tea Spill and Here for the Tea, after becoming angry with Charles, only to discover that Charles himself had spoken with them first.
James Charles, Tati Westbrook, and the Future of Beauty YouTube | WIRED
Over the past week, beauty YouTuber James Charles has been accused of betrayal, Coachella-based snobbery, and promotion of the wrong hair vitamin. He has been pronounced “canceled” by a jury of YouTube gossip channels, the shady Snapchat comments of his beauty guru peers, and, bluntly, by the hashtag #jamescharlesiscanceled. As punishment, culture-conscious former fans are setting their James Charles-branded makeup on fire. In the court of internet culture, destruction of property is a sentence—not a crime.
On TikTok, the preferred social media platform of many Youths, setting James Charles’ merchandize ablaze has become its own meme, in much the same way destroying Gillette razors and Nike sneakers became online phenomenons when customers became disgruntled with those companies’ actions. From a strictly monetary point of view, it’s a rather poor form of protest—the only wallet they’re hurting is their own, and often the meme just becomes a form of free advertising for the person or organization they’re attempting to smear. But while these scandals and the memes they’ve spawned are deeply embroiled in internet capitalism, they’re not actually about money.
Loyalty politics have consumed influencer culture. The spark of this scandal—the end of Charles’ friendship with Westbrook—is ultimately a matter of betrayal, and many fans are reacting as though Charles’ alleged misconduct is a betrayal of them personally. Part of that is the result of internet capitalism: young, savvy fans like Charles’ know that their loyal viewership is ultimately what gives Charles his influence and therefore pays his bills. Just like Westbrook, fans have given Charles both money and (money-making) time, and he hasn’t upheld his side of the contract.
What’s curious, though, is how little that contract has to do with what Charles is actually selling: makeup and beauty advice. These days, subscribing to James Charles doesn’t just mean you like his makeup looks, it means you endorse him as a person and condone his behavior online and off. People take the influencers you follow as a kind of character reference, and an indicator of your politics. For other influencers, failure to sever ties after a cancellation is an internet culture faux pas that can create a scandal of its own, which is why influencers from Jeffree Star to the Kardashians have unfollowed Charles on social media, and why internet sleuths bothered to check whether they had in the first place. That anxiousness has bled over to fans. It’s not enough to quietly unsubscribe. You have to publicly set any evidence of your former allegiances aflame.
« Preuve que la notion de "corps idéal" n’a absolument aucun sens, les critères changent tout le temps, et de plus en plus rapidement ! Pour en faire la démonstration et, au passage, dénoncer cette stupide course à la perfection, une blogueuse fitness a publié une série de photos à la fois originales et édifiantes. » Un coup de Photoshop et la même femme est montrée avec le « physique idéal » de différentes époques. ▻https://positivr.fr/cassey-ho-corps-parfait-epoques
BEAUTE, LA PRISON DES FEMMES | Irrédentiste !
Les pratiques de beauté en général sont-elles nuisibles pour les femmes ?
Ce qu’il y a de spécial dans l’oppression des femmes, c’est qu’elle est si universelle et si ancienne qu’elle est invisible. Et qu’en conséquence, la majorité des femmes ne savent même pas qu’elles sont opprimées et sont incapables d’identifier comme telles les pratiques mises en oeuvre pour les opprimer.
Exemple : discutant sur le statut que j’ai posté sur les codes de la féminité comme comportements de subordination, une intervenante me dit que les pratiques de beauté n’ont aucune conséquence sur notre place dans la société et que ce n’est pas parce qu’on porte les attributs traditionnels de la féminité (jupe, hauts talons , maquillage, etc.) qu’on est soumise aux hommes.
C’est hallucinant que ce lien entre codes de la féminité et subordination, fait par les féministes depuis le début du féminisme (par exemple, la dénonciation des corsets qui, au XIXème siècle, étouffaient les femmes, les faisaient s’évanouir et leur causaient des déformations diverses) ne saute pas aux yeux.
Oui, les pratiques de beauté imposées aux femmes sont des pratiques discriminantes et nuisibles –voire dangereuses– qui signalent et produisent leur subordination.
– d’abord, ce sont des pratiques discriminantes car presque uniquement exigées des femmes. Celles-ci dépensent d’énormes sommes d’argent pour leurs vêtements et chaussures, coupes de cheveux, etc –qui coûtent presque toujours plus que ceux des hommes. Et en traitements spécifiquement féminins : soins, colorations, épilation, institut de beauté, chirurgies esthétiques diverses, botox et injections, maquillage et produits anti-âge, lingerie sexy etc , tout aussi coûteux. Des féministes ont calculé que les sommes dépensées en moyenne par les femmes rien qu’en maquillage et produits de beauté sur toute une vie étaient de l’ordre de dizaines de milliers d’Euros. Les hommes, bien que gagnant plus que les femmes, sont dispensés de ces dépenses.
Vous dites : « personne n’oblige les femmes à se maquiller et à porter des chaussures à talons plats ». Vous avez essayé de décrocher un job sans maquillage, en talons plats, en jean ? Vous avez fait l’expérience de vous pointer au travail dans cette tenue ? Dans une boutique, un bureau, une université, une rédaction, un ministère… Les réactions vont de la désapprobation tacite au choc horrifié : refuser de se maquiller et de s’habiller de façon féminine, c’est reçu comme une déclaration d’insurrection contre l’ordre genré.
– de plus, les pratiques de beauté ont un lien avec la subordination des femmes parce qu’elles les affaiblissent physiquement et les vulnérabilsent : strings inconfortables, hauts talons avec lesquels on peut difficilement marcher, jupes serrées entravantes : comme les pieds bandés des Chinoises, ces pratiques réduisent notre liberté de mouvement, et en nous empêchant de bouger librement , elles nous livrent à d’éventuels prédateurs.
– d’autres pratiques sont carrément dangereuses pour la santé : des produits de beauté contiennent des substances toxiques (colorations, maquillages, botox) qui peuvent provoquer des allergies, on a vu que des implants mammaires provoquent le cancer, toutes les opérations de chirurgie esthétique sous anesthésie générale comportent un risque, les hauts talons endommagent l’ossature des pieds, les régimes peuvent provoquer des carences alimentaires voire conduire à l’anorexie, qui est une pathologie presque exclusivement féminine et la cause du décès d’un nombre non négligeable de jeunes filles.
– certaines de ces pratiques sont aussi douloureuses–épilation, injections, chirurgie esthétique. Les femmes sont censées s’y soumettre parce que la culture leur enseigne « qu’il faut souffrir pour être belle ». Le message est : « vous devez accepter la douleur pour plaire aux hommes ». Ce qui renforce les conditionnements patriarcaux qui leur inculquent que c’est le devoir des femmes de souffrir et de se sacrifier pour eux..
– ces pratiques de beauté, en plus d’être un poste de dépenses important pour les femmes, sont aussi chronophages : calculez le nombre d’heures que vous avez passées à vous maquiller et à vous démaquiller, à vous épiler, à vous appliquer des crèmes et traitements divers, à vous faire faire des colorations, des lissages ou des brushings, etc. Autant d’heures que vous n’avez pas consacrées à vos études, votre carrière, vos projets, vos loisirs.
– elles font partie de ces occupations « typiquement féminines » auxquelles le patriarcat assigne traditionnellement les femmes, les tâches « féminines »–comme le ménage et la cuisine– se différenciant des activités masculines parce qu’elles sont triviales, invisibles et répétitives : on ne voit pas quand elles sont faites, on remarque seulement quand elles ne sont pas faites, elles sont sans fin car leur résultat n’est pas durable et elles doivent être recommencées tous les jours, elles sont triviales car elles ne produisent rien, :ce sont essentiellement des tâches de maintenance, tandis que les activités masculines sont vues comme relevant de la production/création–« les femmes ne produisent pas, elles reproduisent ».
Cette obligation d’assurer les tâches d’entretien et de soin assigne les femmes à l’immanence, à l’inessentiel : elles doivent renoncer à leur créativité propre pour fournir aux hommes le soutien logistique qui leur permet de produire/créer. Cantonnées à ce rôle logistique, elles sont invisibilisées : Nietzsche n’aurait pas pu écrire ses livres s’il n’avait pas eu à sa disposition des femmes pour lui faire la cuisine, le ménage, et laver son linge. Mais aussi indispensable qu’ait été le rôle de ces femmes pour l’écriture de ses livres, personne ne sait qui elles étaient.
– enfin, les pratiques de beauté suggérées ou imposées culturellement aux femmes leur rappellent constamment qu’elles sont imparfaites, qu’elles ne sont jamais assez bien, qu’elles doivent toujours chercher à s’améliorer, et avoir recours à des artifices divers pour se rendre présentables. Etre martelées constamment par le message qu’elles ne sont pas acceptables telles quelles et qu’elles doivent travailler leur physique : surveiller leur poids, cacher leurs cheveux blancs, ne jamais être vues sans maquillage, ne pas avoir de poils, de rides ni de cellulite–toutes obligations qui n’existent pas pour les hommes–renforce leur sentiment d’infériorité : si les hommes n’ont pas à modifier leur apparence naturelle, et les femmes si, ça implique que les hommes sont bien tels qu’ils sont, qu’il n’y a rien de défectueux à changer chez eux–mais que le physique des femmes est intrinsèquement défectueux et doit être corrigé.
– enfin, les pratiques de beauté font internaliser aux femmes la notion qu’elles vivent constamment sous le « male gaze », et qu’elle doivent modifier leur corps et leur comportement en fonction de ce regard masculin qui les juge et les définit. Les pratiques de beauté disent aux femmes qu’elles ne doivent pas être elles-mêmes mais ce que les hommes veulent qu’elles soient–et qu’en définitive, c’est l’opinion des hommes sur elles-mêmes qui compte–et pas la leur.
« Trop masculine pour être violée » : le procès scandaleux qui agite l’Italie
Ce lundi 11 mars, à Ancône (Italie), ont eu lieu d’importantes manifestations des associations de défense des droits des femmes devant la cour d’appel de la ville, où deux jeunes Péruviens âgés de 24 ans ont été acquittés du viol d’une femme, survenu en 2015.
C’est le motif de l’acquittement (en 2017), rendu public seulement le 8 mars dernier, qui a suscité la colère des manifestants : selon les trois magistrates, la victime était « trop laide » et « masculine » pour qu’ils aient pu être attirés par elle.
Les quelque 200 manifestants de ce lundi ont ainsi crié à la « honte » et à la « chasse aux sorcières », tout en accusant le système judiciaire de la ville d’Ancône de misogynie.
Selon le récit de la victime, elle aussi péruvienne, les deux hommes l’auraient violée lors d’une soirée après avoir mis une drogue dans son verre. L’un surveillait les alentours pendant que l’autre la violait.
Des médecins avaient établi que les blessures constatées sur le corps de la jeune femme correspondaient bien à celles d’un viol, et avaient retrouvé des traces de drogue dans son sang.
« Ils ne l’appréciaient pas, ils l’appelaient ’Viking’ »
Le quotidien italien « Cronache Ancona » rapporte que pourtant, d’après les trois magistrates, les hommes accusés de viol « n’appréciaient pas la jeune femme et avaient même gardé son numéro de téléphone sous le surnom de ’Viking’, une allusion non pas à une figure féminine mais à une figure masculine ».
Lors du procès, les avocats des accusés ont soutenu que la jeune femme avait incité les deux hommes à avoir un rapport sexuel, qui était donc, selon eux, consensuel.
Des arguments retenus par la cour d’appel d’Ancône, malgré le rapport médical rédigé par l’hôpital de Salesi, où la jeune femme avait été hospitalisée quelques jours en 2015 après les faits.
L’affaire sera rejugée par un tribunal de Pérouse à une date ultérieure.
Le phénomène semble s’étendre malgré l’interdiction en France des #produits_éclaircissants, nocifs, mais vendus dans les boutiques « afros » et sur Internet.
Faking it: how selfie dysmorphia is driving people to seek surgery | Life and style | The Guardian
The phenomenon of people requesting procedures to resemble their digital image has been referred to – sometimes flippantly, sometimes as a harbinger of end times – as “Snapchat dysmorphia”. The term was coined by the cosmetic doctor Tijion Esho, founder of the Esho clinics in London and Newcastle. He had noticed that where patients had once brought in pictures of celebrities with their ideal nose or jaw, they were now pointing to photos of themselves.
Nicole ESTEROLLE - À propos de l’art conptemporain
Interview téléphonique réalisée le 13 août 2018 A propos de la sur visibilité de la crétinerie.
Réalisation Marc ROHNER
Musique Patrice MOULLET
#Audio #art #art_contemporain #escroquerie #Nicole_ESTEROLLE
#gavage #sidération #vide #beauté #laideur #politique #globalisation #capitalisme #guerre #violence #laideur #enlaidissement #argent #financiarisation #totalitarisme #double_langage
In feminist literature, the beauty and the fashion industries have at times been criticized for being one of the means through which women are objectified.1 Likewise, Critical Race Studies have often pinpointed how the existence of a global beauty industry has the effect of propagating Eurocentric beauty ideals.2 Throughout this article I aim to explore the complicated ways in which beauty and racialized categories intersect in Japan through an analysis of the female-targeted hair trend of the gaikokujin-fū (foreigner-like) hair.
Essentialism is what prompts us to divide the world into two, “us” versus “them,” negating all that is in between the two categories or even changes within the categories themselves. Although this binary thinking has been subject to criticism by various disciplines, such as Critical Race Studies and Postcolonial Studies, it is still among the dominant ways in which human relations are performed in Japanese society. The essentialistic opposing duality between Foreignness and Japaneseness has been constructed in post-war Japan through widespread discourses known by the name nihonjinron (lit. the theories on the Japanese).3 Even though it could be understood as a powerful reply to American racism towards the Japanese, nihonjinron only confirms stereotypes by reversing their value, from negative to positive. Moreover, these theories have had the effect of emphasizing Japanese racial and cultural purity through the alienation and exoticization of the other, most often represented by the white “Westerner”4 (obeijin, seiyōjin, hakujin).
The ambivalent exoticism that surrounds the foreigner (gaikokujin) has made it possible for racialised categories and consumerism to intersect in the archipelago. The beauty industry is particularly susceptible to the segmentation between “self” and “other,” and the global white hegemony has a certain influence over it. However, as Miller rightly observes, dominant beauty standards in Japan are equally influenced by local values of “Japaneseness.”5 Torigoe goes even farther: in her essay, she positions whiteness as a power relation and through her analysis she demonstrates how white women are constructed as Others in Japanese media representations, thus creating “a racial ladder that places Japanese people on top.”6 The link between whiteness and widespread beauty practices has been criticized also in studies of the neighbouring country of Korea, with scholars arguing that cosmetic surgeries in the country are successful only if they enhance the body’s natural “Koreanness.”7
My aim in this paper is to tackle the capitalistic commercialization and fetishization of whiteness in contemporary Japan. As it will become clear throughout the analysis, the Japanese beauty industry is creating a particular image of whiteness that is suitable to the consumers’ needs and desires: this toned-down, less threating way of becoming “foreigner-like” is marketed as an accessory that far from overriding one’s natural features, is instrumental in accentuating and valorizing them. Investigating the peculiar position of this beauty trend, which has been affected by the influence of the two contrasting hegemonic discourses of white supremacy and the purity/superiority of the Japanese race, might be helpful in shedding some light on the increasingly complicated ways the concept of race is being constructed in a setting that has been often considered “other” to the Eurocentric gaze.
Whiteness and the Global Beauty Industry
Beauty is an important practice in our daily life, and as such it has been at the center of animated discussions about its social function. Seen as one of the practices through which gender is performed, it has been put into scrutiny by feminist literature. The approach used to analyze beauty has been dualistic. On the one hand, the beauty and fashion industries have been criticized for being among the reasons of women’s subordination, depriving them financially8 and imposing on them male normative standards of beauty.9 On the other, it has been cited as one of the ways in which female consumers could express their individuality in an oppressive world.10
The increasingly globalized beauty and fashion industries have also been subjects of criticism from the viewpoint of Critical Race Studies. It is not uncommon to hear that these industries are guilty of spreading Eurocentric tastes, thus privileging pale-skinned, thin women with light hair.11 The massive sale of skin-whitening creams in Asia and Africa as well as the creation of new beauty standards that privilege thinness over traditionally preferred plump forms are often cited to defend this argument. At the same time, there have been instances in which this denouncing of Eurocentrism itself has been charged guilty of the same evil. Practices such as plastic surgery in South Korea and Japanese preference for white skin have been often criticized as being born out of the desire to be “Western”: these analyses have been contested as simplistic and ignoring the cultural significance of local standards of beauty in shaping beauty ideals.12
Answers to these diatribes have not been yet found.13 It is nonetheless clear that beauty practices articulate a series of complex understandings about gender and race, often oscillating between particularisms and universalisms. Throughout this article I would like to contribute to this ongoing discussion analyzing how pre-existing notions of race and gender intersect and are re-shaped in a newly emerging trend aptly called gaikokujin-fū (foreigner-like) hair.
Us/Others in Japan: The Essentialization of the Foreign
Japan and the tan’itsu minzoku
It is not uncommon to hear that Japan is one of the most ethnically homogenous countries in the world. In Japanese, the locution tan’itsu minzoku (single/unique ethnic group, people, nation), was often used as a slogan when comparing the archipelago with significantly multi-ethnic countries such as the USA.14 The notion of Japan as a mono-ethnic country is being starkly criticized in recent years:15 minorities such as the zainichi Koreans and Chinese who have been living in the country since the end of the second world war, the conspicuous populations of foreign immigrants from Asia and Latin America, as well as mixed-race people, who were thought of as a social problem until these last ten years,16 have been making their voices heard. In the following paragraphs, I will trace how the idea of a racially homogeneous Japan was constructed.
The word minzoku (ethnic group, people, nation) first appeared in the Japanese language in the Taishō Period (1912-1926), as an alternative to the term jinshū (race).17 The concept of race did not exist prior to the Meiji period (1868-1912), when it was introduced by scholars as one of the ideas from the “West” that would have helped Japan become a modernized nation.18 It could be argued that while the opening up of Japan after the sakoku period was not the first time that the Japanese government had to interact with people of different racial features,19 it was the first time that the idea of racial hierarchies were introduced to the country. Japanese scholars recognized themselves to be part of the ōshoku jinshū (“yellow race”), hierarchically subordinate to the “white race.”20 With rising nationalism and the beginning of the colonization project during the Taishō period, the need arose for a concept that could further differentiate the Japanese people from the neighboring Asian countries such as the newly annexed Taiwan and Korea:21 the newly created minzoku fit this purpose well. Scholar Kawai Yuko compared the term to the German concept of Volk, which indicates a group whose identity is defined by shared language and culture. These traits are racialized, as they are defined as being “biological,” a natural component of the member of the ethnic group who acquires them at birth.22 It was the attribution of these intrinsic qualities that allowed the members of the naichi (mainland Japan) to be assigned in a superior position to the gaichi (colonies). Interestingly, the nationalistic discourse of the pre-war and of the war period had the double intent of both establishing Japanese supremacy and legitimizing its role as a “guide” for the colonies grounding it in their racial affinities: unlike the conquerors from Europe, the Japanese were of similar breed.
These hierarchies were ultimately dissociated from the term minzoku after the end of the Second World War, when it was appropriated by Leftist discourse. Opposing it to ta-minzoku (multiethnic nation or people)23
that at the time implied divisions and inequalities and was perceived as a characteristic of the Japanese Empire, Left-leaning intellectuals advocated a tan’itsu minzoku nation based on equality. The Leftist discourse emphasized the need of the “Japanese minzoku” to stand up to the American occupation, but the term gradually lost its critical nuance when Japan reached economic prosperity and tan’itsu minzoku came to mean racial homogeneity as a unique characteristic of Japanese society, advocated by the Right.24
The term minzoku might have “lost his Volk-ish qualities,”25 but homogeneity in Japan is also perceived to be of a cultural nature. Sociologists Mouer and Sugimoto26 lament that many Japanese people believe to be the carriers of an “unique” and essentialized cultural heritage, that renders them completely alien to foreigners. According to the two scholars, the distinctive qualities that have been usually (self-)ascribed to Japanese people are the following: a weak individuality, the tendency to act in groups, and the tendency to privilege harmony in social situations.27 Essentialized “Japaneseness” is a mixture of these psychological traits with the products of Japanese history and culture. The perception that Japaneseness is ever unchanging and a cultural given of each Japanese individual was further increased by the popularity of the nihonjinron discourse editorial genre, which gained mass-media prominence in the archipelago after the 1970s along with Japan’s economic growth.28 Drawing on Said’s notion of Orientalism,29 Miller states that “in the case of Japan, we have to deal […] with the spectacle of a culture vigorously determined to orientalize itself.”30 According to Roy Miller, Japan has effectively constructed Japaneseness through a process of self-othering, which he refers to as self-Orientalism. The nihonjinron publications were very much influenced by cultural anthropologist Ruth Benedict’s highly influential “The Chrysanthemum and the Sword,” published in 1946. Benedict’s study of the “Japanese people” is based on the assumption that the USA and Japan are polar opposites where the former stands for modernity and individualism whereas the latter is characterized by tradition and groupism.31
Japanese anthropologists and psychoanalysts, such as Nakane and Doi32 further contributed to the study of Japaneseness, never once challenging the polar opposition between the “Japanese” and the “Westernerners.”
It would seem contradictory at first for a large number of people in Japan to have this tendency to think and consume their own culture through stereotypes. However, Iwabuchi draws attention to the fact that Japan’s self-Orientalism is not just a passive acceptance of “Western” values but is in fact used to assert the nation’s cultural superiority. It remains nonetheless profoundly complicit with Euro-American Orientalism insofar that it is an essentializing and reifying process: it erases all internal differences and external similarities.33 This essentialization that Japan is capitalizing on proves fundamental for the “West,” as it is the tool through which it maintains its cultural hegemony.
Images of the Foreigner
Images of the foreigner are not equal, and they form an important node in the (self-)Orientalistic relations that Japan entertains with the rest of the world. An essentialized view of both the Euro-American and Asian foreigner functions in different ways as a counterweight to the “we-Japanese” (ware ware Nihonjin) rhethoric.
In the Japanese language, gaikokujin (foreigner) refers to every person who doesn’t have the same nationality as the country she/he lives in.34 The term gaikokujin does not have racial connotations and can be used to effectively describe anyone that is not a Japanese citizen. However, the racially-charged related term gaijin35 refers especially to the “white” foreigner.36 Written very similarly to gaikokujin, the word gaijin actually has a different origin and the double meaning of “foreigner” and “outsider.” The word carries strong implications of “othering,” and refers to the construction of the Europe and America as other to the young nation-state in the Meiji period, during which knowledge was routinely imported from the “West.”37 Thus, gaijin and the representation of foreigners-as-other came to reflect the dominant hierarchies of nineteenth-century “Western” knowledge.38
Putting every white-skinned individual in the same category functions as a strategy to create the antithetical “West” that is so important as a marker of difference in self-Orientalism: it serves to create an “Other” that makes it possible to recognize the “Self.”39 At the same time, it perpetuates the perception of whiteness as the dominant position in America and Europe. In her analysis on the use of foreigner models in Japanese advertisements, Creighton notes that representation of gaijin positions them both as a source of innovation and style and as a potential moral threat.40
This splitting is not uncommon when dealing with representations of the Other. What generates it is the fetishistic component that is always present in the stereotype.41 Bhabha argues that this characteristic allows the Other to be understood in a contradictory way as a source of both pleasure and anxiety for the Non-Other. Stuart Hall draws on Bhabha’s theories to state that the stereotype makes it so that this binary description can be the only way in which is possible to think of the Other–they generate essentialized identities.42 In the Japanese context, the gaijin, fulfilling his role as a racially visible minority,43 is thus inscribed in the double definition of source of disruption and person to admire (akogare no taishō).
Whiteness in the Japanese Context
Akogare (admiration, longing, desire) is a word that young women44 in Japan often use when talking about the “white, Western” foreigner. Kelsky explains that the word indicates the longing for something that is impossible to obtain and she maintains that “it is a rather precise gloss […] of the term “desire” in Lacanian usage. […] Desire arises from lack and finds expression in the fetish. The fetish substitutes the thing that is desired but impossible to obtain.”45 Fulfilment of this unattainable desire can be realized through activities such as participation in English conversation classes and engaging in conversation with “Western” people.46 The consumption of “Western” images and representations as well as everyday practices associated with the Euro-American foreigner could also be considered a fetish that substitutes the unattainable object of desire. In this sense, the gaikokujin-fū hairstyle trend might be for the producers one such way of catering to young Japanese women’s akogare for the “Western” world.
Gaikokujin-fū is inextricably connected to gaijin, “white” foreigners. For instance, the Hair Encyclopedia section of the website Hotpepper Beauty reports two entries with the keyword gaikokujin-fū: gaikokujin-fū karā (foreigner-like color) and gaikokujin-fū asshu (foreigner-like ash). The “color” entry states the following:
Gaikokujin-fū karā means, as the name suggests, a dye that colors the hair in a tint similar to that of foreigners. The word “foreigner” here mostly stands for people with white skin and blond hair that are usually called “American” and “European.”47
Similarly, the “ash” entry explains the following:
The coloring that aims for the kind of blond hair with little red pigments that is often found among Americans is called gaikokujin-fū asshu.
Asshu means “grey” and its characteristic is to give a slightly dull (dark?) impression. It fits well with many hairstyles ranging from short cuts to long hair, and it can be done in a way to make you look like a “western” hāfu (mixed race individual).
It is clear from these descriptions that the term gaikokujin-fū is racially charged. What hairdresser discourse is trying to reproduce is a kind of hair color associated with America and Europe’s Caucasian population. They are selling “whiteness.”
Writing from the viewpoint of multicultural England, Dyer writes that the study of the representation of white people is important because “as long as white people are not racially seen and named, they/we function as a human norm.”49 White discourse is ubiquitous, and it is precisely this unmarked invisibility that makes it a position of dominance. The representation of people belonging to minority groups is inevitably marked or tied to their race or skin color, but Caucasians are often “just people.” At the base of white privilege there is this characteristic of universality that is implied in whiteness.
The marked positioning of the white foreigner in Japanese society would seem an exception to this rule. Torigoe, while acknowledging that the Japanese media “saturated [her] with images of young white females as the standard of beauty,”50 analyzes in her article how white beauty actually embodies values such as overt sexual attractiveness that would be considered deviant or over the top by standard societal norms.51 Likewise, Russell points to the scrutiny that the bodies of the white female woman receive on Japanese mass media, dominated by a male gaze. White females become subject to the sexual curiosity of the Japanese male, and being accompanied by one of them often makes him look more sophisticated and competitive in a globalized world.52 As the most easily, less controversially portrayed Other through which Japanese self-identity is created, the white individual is often subject to stereotyping and essentialization. Russell notes this happening in both advertisement and the portrayal of white local celebrities, that assume even “whiter” characteristics in order to better market their persona in the Japanese television environment.
However, it is my opinion that we must be careful to not be exceedingly uncritical of the marginality that Caucasians are subject to in Japanese society. I argue that whiteness is in an ambiguous position in the Japanese context: it would be wrong to say that in the archipelago white people do not benefit from the privileges that have accompanied their racialization up to the present times. The othering processes that whites are subject to is more often than not related to them being brought up and representing a different culture than to their racial difference.54 The word hakujin (lit. white person) is barely used in everyday conversation, whereas it is more common to hear the term kokujin (lit. black person): white people are not reduced to their racial characteristics in the same way as black people might be.55 Whiteness might not be the completely hegemonic in the Japanese context, but the country does not exist in a vacuum, and its standards have been influenced by the globally hegemonic white euro-centric values to some extent.
To reiterate, white people in the Japanese archipelago experience the contradictory position of being a visible minority subject to reifying “othering” processes while at the same time reaping many of the benefits and privileges that are usually associated with the color of their skin. They are socially and politically located at the margins but are a hegemonic presence in the aesthetic consciousness as an ideal to which aspire to. In the following sections, I will expand on gaikokujin’s ambiguous location by looking at the ways in which whiteness is consumed through the gaikokujin-fū hairstyle trend.
Producing Whiteness: Selling gaikokujin-fū Hair
Creating the “New”
In order to understand the meanings shaping the catchphrase gaikokujin-fū, I have used a mixture of different approaches. My research began by applying the methods of Visual Analysis56 to the latest online promotional material. I have tried to semiotically analyze the pictures on the websites in relation to the copywriting. In addition, I have complemented it with fieldwork, interviewing a total of seven hairdressers and four girls aged from 20 to 2457 in the period between April and June 2017. It was while doing fieldwork that I realized how important social networking is for the establishment of contemporary trends: this is frequently acknowledged also in the press by textually referencing hashtags.58 Instagram is a very important part of Japanese girls’ everyday life, and is used both as a tool for self-expression/self-promotion as well as a compass to navigate the ever-growing ocean of lifestyle trends. Japanese internet spaces had been previously analyzed as relatively closed spaces created and accessed by predominantly Japanese people, and this had implications on how online discourses about races were carried on.59 However, being a predominantly visual medium, Instagram also functions as a site where information can, to a large extent, overcome language barriers.
The gaikokujin-fū hashtag counts 499,103 posts on Instagram, whereas 381,615 pictures have been tagged gaikokujin-fū karā.60 Most of them are published by professional whose aim is to publicize their work, and it is not uncommon to find pricing and information for booking in the description.
Scrolling down the results of the Instagram search, it is easy to notice the high number of back and profile shots; what the hairdressers are trying to show through these pictures is their hairdressing skills. By cutting out the face they are putting the hair itself at the center of the viewer’s attention and eliminating any possibility of identification. The aim here is to sell “whiteness” as an object. The trendsetters are capitalizing on a term (gaikokujin-fū) that has already an appealing meaning outside the field of hair coloring, and that is usually associated with the wider desire or longing (akogare) for “Western” people, culture and lifestyle.
To the non-initiated, the term gaikokujin-fū might indicate anything that is not “Japanese like” such as curly hair, or blonde hair. However, it became clear when speaking to my hairdresser informants that they only used the term referring to the ash-like coloring. Professionals in the field are reclaiming it to define a new, emerging niche of products that only started appearing a couple of years ago.61 In doing so, Japanese hairdressers are creating a new kind of “whiteness” that goes beyond the “Western” cultural conception of white as blonde and blue-eyed, in order to make it more acceptable to Japanese societal standards. In fact, fair hair is considered extremely unnatural.62 The advantage that ash brown hair has over blonde is the relatively darker shade that allows consumers to stand out without being completely out of place.63
However, gaikokujin-fū hair comes at a cost. All of my informants told me during the interviews that the colors usually associated with this trend involve dyes have a blue or green base, and are very difficult to recreate on most people of the East Asia whose naturally black hair has a red base. The difficulty they experienced in reproducing the Ash (asshu) and Matt colors on Japanese hair constituted a fundamental charm point for hair technicians, and precisely because of this being able to produce a neat ash coloring might be considered synonymous with keeping on pace with the last technology in hair dying. The Wella “Illumina Color”64 series came out in September 2015, while Throw,65 a Japanese-produced series of hair dyes that eliminate the reddish undertones of Japanese black hair, went on sale very recently in June 2016.66 Another Japanese maker, Milbon, released its “Addichty Color”67 series as recently as February 2017. The globally dominant but locally peripheral whiteness has been “appropriated” and domesticated by Japanese hairdressers as a propeller of the latest trends, as a vital tool in creating the “new.”
To summarize, the technological developments in hair dyes certainly gave a big push to the popularizing of the gaikokujin-fū hairstyle trend. Moreover, in a very chicken-and-egg-like fashion, the technological advancing itself was at the same time motivated by the admiration and desire towards Euro-American countries. However, this desire for “Westerness” does not entail adopting whiteness in its essentialized “purest” form,68 as that would have negative implications in the context of Japanese society. Rather, Japanese trendsetters have operated a selection and chosen the variant of whiteness that would be different enough to allow the creation of the “latest” while minimizing its more threatening aspects.
Branding the “New”
In the previous section I mentioned the fact that most of pictures posted on the social network Instagram serve to amplify and diffuse existing values for consumption, and constantly refer to a set of meanings that are generated elsewhere reifying them. Throughout this section I will examine the production of these values through the branding of the aforementioned hair dye brands: Wella’s “Illumina Color,” THROW, and Milbon’s “Addichty Color.”
Wella’s “Illumina Color” offers an interesting case study as it is produced by an American multinational brand. Comparing the Japanese website with the international one, it is clear that we have before our eyes a prime example of “glocalization.”69 While on the international webpage70 the eye-catch is a picture of a white, blue-eyed blonde woman that sports an intricate braided hairstyle with some purplish accents in the braid, the Japanese71 version features a hāfu-like72 young woman with long, flowing straight dark brown hair. The description of the product also contains the suggestive sentence “even the hard and visible hair typical of the Japanese [can become] of a pale, soft color.” The keywords here are the terms hard (katai) and soft (yawaraka). Hardness is defined as being a characteristic typical of the Japanese hair texture (nihonjin tokuyū) and it is opposed to the desired effect, softness. The sentence implies by contrasting the two terms that softness is not a characteristic of Japanese hair, and the assumption could be taken further to understand that it is a quality typical of the “foreign.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, the international webpage contains no such reference and instead vaguely praises the hair dye’s ability to provide a light color. The visuals of the latter are consistent with Dyer’s definition of whiteness.
Unlike Wella, Milbon and beauty experience are Japanese companies, and their products ORDEVE Addichty and THROW are only geared to the Japanese marketplace. Milbon’s ORDEVE Addichty dye series is the most recent of the two. The product’s promotional webpage is almost entirely composed of pictures: the top half features 14 moving pictures, two for each of the seven colours available. The pictures slide in a way that shows the customer all the four sides of the model’s bust up, and each one of the girls is holding a sign with the name of the product. To the center left, we see a GIF image with the name of the brand in the roman and Japanese alphabet, accompanied by the catchphrase hajimete mitsukaru, atarashii watashirashisa (“I found it for the first time, a new way of being myself”), that slides into another text-filled picture that explains the concepts behind the branding.
Occidental-like (ōbeijin) voluminous hair with a shine (tsuya) never seen before. This incredible feeling of translucence (tōmeikan) that even shows on your Instagram [pictures], will receive a lot of likes from everybody. Let’s find the charm of a freer myself with Addichty color!
The red-diminishing dyes are here associated with both physical and ideological characteristics identified as “Western,” like the “feeling of translucence” (tōmeikan)73 and “freedom” (jiyū). The word tōmeikan is a constant of technical descriptions of gaikokujin-fū and it is generally very difficult for the hairdressers to explain what does it mean. My hairdresser informant N. quickly explained to me that having translucent hair means to have a hair color that has a low red component. Informants H. and S., also hair professionals, further explained that translucency is a characteristic typical of hair that seems to be semi-transparent when hit by light. While in the English-speaking world it would certainly be unusual to positively describe somebody’s hair as translucent, tōmeikan is a positive adjective often used as a compliment in other different contexts and it indicates clarity and brightness. In fact, the Japanese Daijisen dictionary lists two definitions for translucent, the second of which reads “clear, without impurities.”74 It is perhaps in relation to this meaning that the melanin-filled black core of the Japanese hair is considered “heavy” (omoi) and strong. Reddish and lighter brown colors are also defined in the same way. What is more, even hair colors at the other end of the spectrum can be “muddy”（nigori no aru）: blonde hair is also described as such.75 It is clear that while tōmeikan is a quality of “occidental hair,” it is not a characteristic of all the shades that are usually associated with whiteness.
In the last sentence, “freedom” is linked to charm (miryoku) and the individual. These three concepts are also very often associated with the foreigner. The freedom of the gaijin is a freedom from social constraints and from the sameness that pervades dominant representations of Japaneseness.76 Individualism is further emphasized by the pronoun “myself,” which in the original Japanese is a possessive pronoun to the word “charm” (miryoku). As a word, miryoku has an openly sexual connotation, and because of this it might be linked to the concept of “foreignness.” As Torigoe found out in her analysis of Japanese advertisements, white women are often represented as a sexualized counterpart to the more innocent Japanese woman.77 Gaikokujin-fū hair offers customers the possibility to become closer to obtaining this sexiness, that distances the self from the monotone standards of society.
Of the three, THROW is possibly the most interesting to analyze, mostly because of the huge quantity of content they released in order to strengthen the brand image. In addition to the incredibly detailed homepage, they are constantly releasing new media contents related to gaikokujin-fū coloring on their “THROW Journal.”78
The “story” page of the website serves as an explanation of the brand identity. It is a vertically designed page heavy on images, possibly designed to be optimally visualized in mobile devices such as smartphones and tablets. The first image that the viewer encounters is that of a girl whose brown hair is flowing in the wind, which results in some strands covering the features of her pale-white face. This makes it hard to understand her nationality and makes it so that all the attention is focused on the light, airy qualities of the hair. As I said before, “lightness” (karusa) is associated to translucency and is one of the characteristics at the center of the marketing of gaikokujin-fū. This picture very clearly renders those sensations in a way that is very pleasant to the eye and indeed invites consumption.
Under the picture we find a very short narration that complements it. In bigger characters, the words dare de mo nai, watashi ni naru, that roughly translates as “I’ll become a myself, that is nobody else.” Here again we find an emphasis on individuality and difference. Scrolling down, we find the following paragraph written in a smaller font:
I leave my body to the blowing wind.
My hair is enveloped in light, and is filled by the pleasant air.
What I needed was this [facial] expression.
I got rid of what I did not need, and refreshingly freed my mind.
I should just enjoy myself more.79
Unlike the tagline in the Addichty webpage, THROW’s brand identity is here described in ideological terms only. Once again, “freedom” is the central theme, and is associated with a sensation of freshness (kaze, “the wind”; also, the onomatopoeia sutto, here rendered as “refreshingly”). The image of release is further emphasized by the fact that “I” of this text is in close contact with nature: her skin feels the wind, she is shrouded in light and breathes pure air. But what is the subject being released from? The fourth and the last line would suggest that she is being trapped by social constraints, something akin to the Freudian super-ego, that somehow renders her unable to enjoy herself for what she really is. My literal translation of the sixth line makes it hard to understand the hedonistic implications of its meaning: what the original Japanese implies is not simply that she should “have fun,” but she should be finding pleasure in what she is and not what she is expected to be. It is perhaps strange to the eyes of the Euro-American observer accustomed to the discourse of white supremacy that the consumption of whiteness comes with an invitation to spontaneity. The whiteness being sold here is certainly perceived in a radically different way from the Eurocentric “West,” where it is associated with self-constraint.80 It is being marketed to the Japanese public in a way that reminds the portrayal of minorities in the white-dominated world,81 and that makes it particularly appealing to the archipelago’s consumers.
Listening to the producers’ interviews, it becomes clear for them that the red pigments of the hair, as a symbol of this self-Orientalistically represented “Japaneseness” are represented as a further constraint. Producer Kimura Naoto speaks of a “liberation from redness for the women who hate it”;82 fellow member of the production team Horiuchi brings up the ever-present desire in Japanese women to “become like foreigners,”83 but neither of the two explains the connection between the deletion of red pigments from the hair and the possibility of becoming foreigner-like. It is perhaps this lack of an explicit connection in an explanation from an expert that makes it perceived as an “obvious truth.” In fact, nobody seems to refer to the fact that red undertones are common overseas as well, not to mention the existence of redheads in predominantly Caucasian regions. By hiding these facts, the red pigments are constructed as something that is peculiarly Japanese and juxtaposed to the exclusively foreign blue pigments, further contributing to the essentializing of the gaikokujin that propels self-Orientalism.
Consuming Whiteness: Gaikokujin-fū and Everyday Life
To understand the ways that gaikokujin-fū was being interpreted and consumed I conducted fieldwork for two months (April-June 2017) in Tokyo. Engaging in participant observation proved to be relatively easy, since superficial conversation about beauty trends is one of the most common ways that young women around my age use to socialize. Most of my peers were very quick to react every time I lightly introduced the subject. However, due to the perceived “lightness” of the topic, not many people showed to be willing to talk prolongedly about it. This prompted me to supplement the fieldwork with semi-structured interviews I conducted with four people aged 20-22.
The general reaction to the gaikokujin-fū buzzword was one of recognition–the existence of the trend was acknowledged both by people who were actually familiar with it as well as by others who were not really interested but had seen the phrase and recognized a more general idea behind it. As the reader might expect after having gone through the previous chapter, consumers of gaikokujin-fū hair all brought up the difficulties they had in obtaining the desired results. When I first contacted K., a 23-year-old university student in Tokyo, she told me to wait till the following week for the interview since she had an appointment to dye her hair of an ash-like color. Seven days later, I was surprised to see that her hair had not changed much. Turns out that her virgin hair was a very difficult base to work with: having never bleached it, it proved to be very resistant to blue-green dyes. Dying the hair of an ash-like color would have been impossible as the naturally red pigments of the hair would have completely nullified the effect.
Whiteness as Empowerment, Whiteness as Difference
K. was nonetheless very accommodating and answered my questions very enthusiastically. To her, the word gaikokujin had indeed a very positive meaning, and she specifically associated it to difference. My informant used a very harsh word when talking about her fellow Japanese: to her, Japanese style equals mass-production. Her image of Japan was perfectly congruent with those described by Mouer and Sugimoto in their critique of Nihonjinron. “Ordinary” Japanese girls were, in her opinion, the cutesy and quiet girls with straight black hair and bangs covering their foreheads. Why did she feel attracted to gaikokujin-fū in the first place? K. felt that the “traditional” Japanese image was constraining, and she had both very physical and empirical reasons (she does not like face with bangs) as well as a specific ideological background. It is worth nothing here that K. has had since her childhood a very strong akogare towards “Western countries”: she has studied English since she was a small child and is now studying Italian, which led her to spend a year abroad in the University of Venice. Moreover, she attended a very liberal protestant high school in Tokyo, where students were allowed to dye their hair and had no obligation to wear the school uniform. She herself stated that the liberal environment she was brought up in had a huge influence on her view of the world and thus she did not feel the need to “conform.” K. speaks from a privileged position that allowed her to glimpse a “different” world, in which she is promised freedom. In a similar fashion to the representations I analysed in the previous chapter, “Western” foreign becomes a symbol of liberation from the societal constraints of a traditionalistic society.
The liberating qualities of the akogare towards the essentialized “Western” foreign have been brought up in previous research as a space for young women to astray themselves from the hierarchies of everyday life. The link between freedom and diversity was indeed particularly strong in K., who feels somehow “oppressed” by certain aspects of society. However, this is far from being a universal mode of consumption: in fact, the other three girls never even mentioned anything ideological. To S., a 22-year-old girl I met while studying in Tokyo two years ago, dying her hair of an ash-like hue was an act genuinely finalized to the enhancement of her beauty: she thought the color made her face look brighter. While she too stated during the interview that foreigners are viewed as cool and fashionable, she did not allude to a desire to “become” one nor she mentioned any ideological values associated with them that she emphasized with. In her everyday practice, whiteness is consumed as a tool regardless of its hegemonic signified. Informants A. and H. talked about the trend in a similar way. H. initially dyed her hair because she liked how cute ash hair looked on her favourite model, and had little more to say other than that. Her friend A., who recently graduated from a fashion school, confessed that in her environment standing out was more the rule than a subversive act. Her ash phase was brief and followed by even more explosive hues such as blue and pink. S., A., and H., were very much less conscious of their ways of consumption, but, as French theorist Michel de Certeau argues,84 it is precisely the aimlessness of their wandering that make their practices subvert the hegemony established by the global white supremacy. Having gaikokujin-fū hair is one of the strategies that Japanese women have at their disposition to attain beauty, and while it is trendy, it is far from being superior to different styles. Whiteness becomes an accessory that enhances the natural beauty of the self, and it is not employed to override one’s original racial features but rather to enrich them through the display of individuality. Under this light, it is possible to see the consumption of foreign-like hair as an unconscious tentative of overcoming the racialized barriers that might generate uncanny feelings in the eyes of the “white” spectator.
Subdued Subversion and the Ambiguities of Consumption
There are however at least two factors that complicate the consumption of gaikokujin-fū hair, making it a multifaceted and complex process. Firstly, during my interview with K. we discussed the differences between this and other fashion trends that tend to refuse the stereotypical sameness of the constructed Japanese image. K. suggested the existence of an even more individualistic trend–Harajuku–style fashion. The Harajuku district of Tokyo is famous world-wide for hosting a wide range of colourful subcultures,85 which my interviewee described with terms such as dokusouteki (creative) and yancha (mischievous). Harajuku fashion is individuality taken to such a level in which it becomes even more openly contestant of society. S. described these subcultures as referencing the image of “an invented fantasy world, completely out of touch with reality.” The gaikokujin-fū hair colour is indeed a way to break out of the “factory mould,” but it is a relatively tame way of doing it as it is the consumption of a domesticized otherness. As I also pointed out during the analysis of the production processes, the aesthetics of the trend are largely shaped in relation to societal norms and purposely do not excessively break out of them. Especially in its darker tones, foreign-like ash hair is visually closer (albeit chemically harder to obtain) than platinum blonde, and it is precisely in these shades that the hue is being consumed by girls like K. and S.
Furthermore, one could say that Gaikokujin-fū hues can at times be experimentations instrumental to the formation of one’s identity. H. and S. both explained that they tried out ash dyes as a phase, only then to move on to something that they thought better reflected their own selves. In both cases, that meant going back to their natural black color and to darker tones. H., in particular, after spending her three years of freedom in university experimenting with various hues, finally concluded in her fourth and final year that natural black hair was “what suits Japanese people best.”. After trying out the “Other” and recognizing it as such, her identification acted as what Stuart Hall might have called a suture between her as an acting subject and the discursive practices of “Japaneseness.”86 As “foreignness,” and whiteness as one of its variants, cannot be easily conceived outside the dominant self-Orientalistic discourses, even gaikokujin-fū is inevitably bound to the essentialized “Japaneseness” of the Nihonjinron. This is only worsened by the fact that foreign-like hair colors are a product in the beauty market: they need to be marketed to the consumers, and this necessitates simplification. Essentialization and the reinforcement of self-Orientalism are the high prices that one must pay for the consumption of the other, and constitute a big limitation of its subversive power.
I have attempted to analyse the ways in which whiteness is produced and consumed in Japan, a country with significant economic and cultural power that does not have a significant Caucasian population. I have chosen as the topic a feature of the human body that is usually considered peripherical to the construction of racialized categories, and I have attempted to demonstrate how it becomes central in the production of an occidentalistic image of “whiteness” in the Japanese Archipelago.
What this trend helps us to understand is the complexities and multiplicities of whiteness. By shedding some light on the way that hairdressers in Japan construct and sell the gaikokujin-fū trend we become aware of the fact that an aspect such as hair color that we do not usually pay much attention to in relation to this racialized category can be central when the same is consumed in a different setting. It is significant that what is being marketed here it is a slightly different paradigm from the Eurocentric or conventional idea of “white” people, that sees at its center blonde-haired, fair-skinned people with blue or green eyes: whiteness is mitigated and familiarized in order to make it more desirable to wider audiences. Its localized production and its consumption as a disposable accessory might be taken as challenging to the global dominance of Caucasian aesthetic.
Acting in the (locally) ambiguous field of racial representations,87 hairdressers in Japan are creating their own whiteness, one that is starkly defined by what is socially acceptable and what is rejected.88 It thus becomes apparent the fact that racialized categories are nothing but discourses, constantly morphing in relation to time and space. The existence of a different whiteness created by and for the use of people who are not considered as belonging to this racialized category creates conflict with the discourse of a global, hegemonic whiteness by demonstrating its artificiality and construction.
However, the use of the word gaikokujin inevitably generates ambivalent meanings. The trend becomes linked to the discourse of “foreignness” and the desires associated with it. Eventually, it ends up reproducing the essentialist and reifying stereotypes that are creating through the occidentalistic (and self-Orientalistic) practices of nihonjinron. The trend potentially reinforces the “us/them” barriers that are at the basis of essentialistic thought by juxtaposing the desired “foreign hair” as a polar opposite of the more conservative and traditional “Japanese hair.”
To reiterate, gaikokujin-fū might be subversive on the global scale, but it is nonetheless an expression of the oppressive mainstream on the local level, as it restates notions of difference and exclusivity that form the basis for social exclusion of phenotypically alien foreigners. Unfortunately, the practices of marketing necessitate simplifications, and makes it is hard to achieve what I believe would be the most subversive action: the elimination of these reifying barriers. It is imperative that we start to think about ways to talk about race and culture in a non-essentializing manner while maintaining an anti-white-centric stance.
Although the problem of essentialization cannot be resolved by looking at representation only, by looking at how the product is effectively consumed in everyday life we might find that these semi-conscious practices already offer some hints on how to overcome the barriers that reification builds around us. It is indeed true that consumers answer to the “call” of the marketers, and that they identify themselves to some extent with the images of racialized whiteness created by the beauty industry. However, what the interviews revealed is that often times the link between image and product is broken in the immediacy of consumption. By using whiteness as an accessory, some of the consumers open up a space in which they contest the seriousness and rigidity of racialized categories–a space that allows hybridity to exist.
« La Passion du Monde » anime le parcours et l’oeuvre de Elisée Reclus, géographe et anarchiste français (1830-1905). Le film de #Nicolas_Eprendre fait le portrait d’une personnalité peu banale, tout à la fois grand voyageur, scientifique reconnu et homme de conviction. Les photographies de Nadar nous transmettent un regard plein de bonhomie et d’acuité. La voix de Carlo Brandt donne vie à des pages qui mêlent poésie et humour, pensée scientifique et politique. Hélène Sarrazin (biographe), Kenneth White (écrivain), Philippe Pelletier et Federico Ferretti (géographes), dressent tour à tour la figure d’un homme qui nous est proche,et dont les analyses font échos aux nôtres en ce début de 21 siècle.
#Reclus #Elisée_Reclus #géographie #anarchisme #géographie_anarchiste #film #documentaire #votation #droit_de_suffrage #obéissance #vote #trahison #suffrage #agir #ruisseau #eau #Terre #géographie #Kenneth_White #marche #marche_méditative #fleuves #frontière #commune_de_Paris #Bakunine #Fédération_jurasienne #exil #Lugano #anarchisme #esclavage #Suisse #cartographie #Charles_Perron #paysage #justice #droit
Reprise de cette citation de Reclus sur les #frontières :
Frontières = « lignes artificielles imposées par la violence, la guerre, l’astuce des Rois et sanctionnées par la couardise des peuples... »
Extrait de L’homme et la terre (vers min.45) :
« L’homme vraiment civilisé aide la terre au lieu de s’acharner brutalement contre elle. Il apprend, aussi, comme artiste. A donné au #paysage qui l’entoure plus de charme, de grâce, ou de majesté. Devenu la conscience de la Terre, l’homme digne de sa mission assume par cela-même une part de responsabilité dans l’#harmonie et la #beauté de la #nature environnante. »
Kenneth White, min. 47’22 :
« Le mot #monde a chez lui un sens autre que socio-politique. En général, quand on dit le monde aujourd’hui, ça veut dire le monde socio-politique. Chez lui ça veut dire ’un espace où vivre pleinement’. C’est un sens très ancien du monde. (...) Sa géographie universelle c’est d’un côté un panorama puissant et poétique de la Terre, mais c’est aussi une idée du monde. Il a une idée, une conception du monde. (...) »
Kenneth White cite Reclus, tiré d’une lettre à un ami vers la fin de sa vie :
« Vous me dites que mon poème n’est pas réalisable, que c’est un rêve. Ou bien nous pouvons réaliser ce rêve pour la société toute entière. Dans ce cas, travaillons avec énergie. Ou bien nous ne pouvons le réaliser que pour un petit nombre, et dans ce cas là, travaillons encore et toujours ».
Toutes ces frontières ne sont que des lignes artificielles imposées par la violence, la guerre, l’astuce des rois… Elisée Reclus (1868)
Les gouvernants, les dirigeants, les « décideurs » organisent aujourd’hui la distinction, le tri, le choix entre des individus qui subissent de plein fouet les horreurs, qu’elles soient la conséquence des guerres, ou celle de conditions sociales et économiques désastreuses, du Capitalisme qui submerge la planète, des États qui font « survivre » leurs peuples sous le joug, etc.
Le vocabulaire sert aujourd’hui à légitimer un distinguo totalement arbitraire et « amoral » entre réfugiés et migrants, attribuant aux premiers un condescendant intérêt car ceux-là fuient les horreurs de la guerre et aux seconds un mépris non dissimulé, car eux ne fuient leurs pays d’origine que pour des raisons économiques et/ou sociales : la pauvreté et la misère dans lesquelles leurs Etats et leurs patronats les ont plongés ! Pourtant c’est un fait : les mêmes causes, partout, produisent les mêmes effets !
Les guerres et les armements profitent en premier lieu aux capitalistes qui en font un commerce juteux pendant que les peuples, toujours en premières lignes, en payent le prix fort. Les frontières qui servent de paravents aux turpitudes nationalistes et aux exactions des Etats quand ceux-ci se permettent d’imposer à leurs peuples les pires des conditions d’existence… Les classes dirigeantes qui ne s’intéressent qu’à leurs propres intérêts au détriment de leurs congénères dès lors que c’est le portefeuille qui leur sert de référent « patriotique ». Et, au bout du bout, à côté de la question préoccupante de l’afflux de réfugié-e-s qui s’éloignent de ces terres de mort et de malheur, c’est les discours de haine, de racisme, de xénophobie qui servent d’exutoire dans une ambiance de fascisme, ici cocardier.
Pour nous anarchistes, à côté des réponses immédiates concernant l’accueil et la prise en charge des réfugié-e-s, réponses à caractère uniquement humanitaire, nous devons faire valoir que les causes des guerres et les multitudes de morts et de malheurs qui les accompagnent, que tout cela est la conséquence directe des systèmes inégalitaires qui régissent l’Humanité : Capitalisme, profits, divisions de la société en classes, Etats qui usurpent le pouvoir des peuples, frontières qui séparent les individus, les divisent, les opposent et nient l’Humanité.
Ni patrie, ni frontières !
Pour le communisme libertaire, l’internationalisme
la solidarité, la liberté de circulation et le fédéralisme !!!
Élisée Reclus, la passion du monde
Le film de Nicolas Eprendre fait le portrait d’une personnalité peu banale, tout à la fois grand voyageur, scientifique reconnu et homme de conviction. Les photographies de Nadar nous transmettent un regard plein de bonhommie et d’acuité. La voix de Carlo Brandt donne vie à des pages qui mêlent poésie et humour, pensée scientifique et politique. Hélène Sarrazin (biographe), Kenneth White (écrivain), Philippe Pelletier et Federico Ferretti (géographe), dressent tour à tour la figure d’un homme qui nous est proche, et dont les analyses font échos aux nôtres en ce début de 21è siècle.
#corps, #masculin, #criminel, #homosexuel, #homme, #médecine, #excès, #déficit, #discours, #pratique, #canon, #beauté, #masculinité, #sexe, #caryotype, #physiognomonie, #imaginaire, #dominant, #dominé
Annie Le Brun sur « Ce qui n’a pas de prix »
Annie prends la parole à 2 minutes
C’est la guerre, une guerre qui se déroule sur tous les fronts et qui s’intensifie depuis qu’elle est désormais menée contre tout ce dont il paraissait impossible d’extraire de la valeur. S’ensuit un nouvel enlaidissement du monde. Car, avant même le rêve ou la passion, le premier ennemi aura été la beauté vive, celle dont chacun a connu les pouvoirs d’éblouissement et qui, pas plus que l’éclair, ne se laisse assujettir. Y aura considérablement aidé la collusion de la finance et d’un certain art contemporain, à l’origine d’une entreprise de neutralisation visant à installer une domination sans réplique. Et comme, dans le même temps, la marchandisation de tout recours à une esthétisation généralisée pour camoufler le fonctionnement catastrophique d’un monde allant à sa perte, il est évident que beauté et laideur constituent un enjeu politique. Jusqu’à quand consentirons-nous à ne pas voir combien la violence de l’argent travaille à liquider notre nuit sensible, pour nous faire oublier l’essentiel, la quête éperdue de ce qui n’a pas de prix ? Ce qui n’a pas de prix Annie Le Brun.
#art #art_contemporain #gavage #sidération #vide #beauté #laideur #politique #globalisation #capitalisme #guerre #violence #laideur #enlaidissement #argent #financiarisation #totalitarisme #double_langage
En mathématiques, les filles restent des inconnues - Libération
C’est ensuite que tout se complique. Lola se voit reléguée tout au fond la classe : 35e, 35e, 36e aux trois premiers contrôles. En janvier, elle doit choisir entre faire autre chose ou s’accrocher. A la maison, son père ne cesse de lui répéter que les filles sont meilleures que les garçons. Le stéréotype qui veut que les mathématiques ne sont pas faites pour les filles tourne dans l’autre sens. « J’ai repris les bases, repassé les programmes de 1ère et de TS, quand le professeur était déjà passé au programme de math sup. » C’est à ce moment qu’elle découvre le sexisme très ordinaire qui traîne dans les couloirs d’un grand lycée parisien. « On pardonne très facilement aux garçons de ne faire que des maths. Ils peuvent s’enfermer dans le travail, ne faire que bosser, passer de l’internat aux salles de cours en peignoir, en survêtement ou même en pyjama. C’est presque normal. On dira : “C’est un bosseur”. Des filles, on attend autre chose. Il faut qu’elles soient sympathiques, qu’elles préparent le buffet pour les fêtes, qu’elles s’investissent dans la vie de la classe. Elles doivent “jouer les princesses” et passer du temps à se préparer. On perd un temps fou, et pendant ce temps, les garçons bossent et passent devant. Moi, je descendais comme j’étais, et tant pis si ça provoquait des remarques », s’agace Lola qui refuse la division surhommes et princesses, nouvelle version du « Sois belle et tais toi ! ».
Elyès Jouini, mathématicien, vice-président de l’université Paris-Dauphine et coauteur de plusieurs études, n’a pas beaucoup plus de certitudes pour expliquer la sexuation des maths. « Beaucoup d’efforts ont été réalisés pour réduire l’écart entre le niveau moyen des filles et des garçons. Mais, quand on regarde le haut du panier, les 5 % qui se trouvent tout en haut de la pyramide, les garçons s’imposent à chaque fois qu’il y a une sélection. Là, les #archétypes et les #stéréotypes fonctionnent, et quand il s’agit de se présenter à un concours réputé difficile, les garçons iront quand ils ont 12 ou 13, les filles attendront d’avoir 15 ou 16. Prenez un pays comme la #Norvège qui a sans doute le plus fait pour effacer les écarts entre femmes et hommes, le biais #mathématiques demeure. »
Je dois ajouter que près de 40 ans plus tard, je n’ai toujours pas digéré mon « très bien… pour une fille » qui sanctionnait un devoir de maths où j’avais juste le meilleur résultat de ma classe. J’ai vraiment pris ça comme une baffe. Et je continue à penser que j’avais raison de le prendre comme ça.
Effectivement, j’ai aussi vu le biais de sélection où l’on pousse les garçons vers les matières scientifiques dès qu’ils arrivent à la mention assez bien, alors que pour les filles, ça reste "ouvert", même en bien ou très bien.
De mon parcours scolaire, je garde le souvenir que mes performances dans les matières scientifiques étaient regardées comme des curiosités (voire des anomalies) alors que mes performances dans les matières littéraires étaient nettement plus valorisées et mises en exergue.
A propos de : Marianne Blanchard, Sophie Orange, Arnaud Pierrel, Filles + sciences = une équation insoluble ? Enquête sur les classes préparatoires scientifiques
Dans une configuration scolaire qui produit des classements « récurrents et affinés », l’interprétation de la sous-représentation des filles en école d’ingénieur en termes de « phénomènes d’autocensure manque l’essentiel, à savoir les mécanismes de construction de la croyance en sa valeur scolaire »
Être belle : un choix ou un devoir ?
Réunion des musées nationaux-Grand Palais
Être belle : un choix ou un devoir ?
01.09.2017 (mis à jour le 13/06/2018 à 12:09)
Jusqu’où allons-nous pour avoir un corps attractif et désirable ? Quels stratagèmes utilisons-nous pour le transformer selon les diktats d’une société qui n’aime que la beauté et la jeunesse ? Les femmes ne semblent pas vraiment libres dans cette quête de perfection.
« le mâle brut et barbu n’est en fait qu’un playboy fardé et déguisé » ...
« ne croyons pas que seules les femmes sont concernées par cette stigmatisation » ....
Lorna Simpson’s Artwork Beautifully Explores The Complexity Of Black Hair
‘I Feel Pretty’ and the Rise of Beauty-Standard Denialism - The New York Times
Comment les normes de beauté se maintiennent à travers l’impératif du bien-être, et comment l’insistance sur la « confiance en soi » permet de faire peser la responsabilité de leur non-conformité sur les femmes elles-mêmes
The movie suggests that the only thing holding back regular-looking women is their belief that looking regular holds them back at all. That attitude puts the onus on individual women to improve their self-esteem instead of criticizing societal beauty standards writ large. The reality is that expectations for female appearances have never been higher. It’s just become taboo to admit that.
This new beauty-standard denialism is all around us. It courses through cosmetics ads, fitness instructor monologues, Instagram captions and, increasingly, pop feminist principles. In the forthcoming book “Perfect Me,” Heather Widdows, a philosophy professor at the University of Birmingham, England, convincingly argues that the pressures on women to appear thinner, younger and firmer are stronger than ever. Keeping up appearances is no longer simply a superficial pursuit; it’s an ethical one, too. A woman who fails to conform to the ideal is regarded as a failure as a person.
En lien avec tous les « injonctions » à l’estime de soi et toutes les illusions de « invente tes normes » dans certains milieux militants : politique individualiste et libérale de l’identité auto-construite (alors que c’est en premier lieu le social qui définit les normes).
Accepte ton corps !
Longtemps hantée par l’obsession de la #silhouette parfaite, la photographe Taryn Brumfitt a lancé une croisade pour aider les femmes à accepter, aimer et prendre soin de leur corps.
Pourquoi les femmes du monde entier, quel que soit leur âge ou leur forme physique, sont-elles aussi nombreuses à détester leur corps tel qu’il est ? La photographe australienne Taryn Brumfitt a longtemps été l’une d’elles : après ses trois grossesses, elle est allée jusqu’à envisager de recourir à la chirurgie esthétique… avant de faire volte-face, persuadée que le problème ne résidait pas dans son corps, mais dans la pression sociale et les normes irréalistes qu’on impose aux femmes. Devenue célèbre pour avoir posté sur les réseaux sociaux une photo où elle pose rayonnante, à rebours des préjugés, elle a fondé le Body Image Movement, visant à lutter contre le « #body_shaming » et aider les femmes à accepter, aimer et prendre soin de leur corps. Ce documentaire s’inscrit dans son projet : elle part à travers le monde à la rencontre de femmes qui évoquent le rapport conflictuel qu’elles entretiennent avec leur corps.
Déjà signalé par @reka, je vois maintenant, mais je remets ici, avec quelques informations de plus, tirée du documentaire...
’Attractive & Fat’ ad spoofs Abercrombie
Bodies of mothers: #Jade_Beall at TEDxPitic
Jade Beall is a photographer from Tucson, AZ who seeks to empower women through photography. She launched her project for a book containing nude photos of mothers and pregnant women without retouching of any kind called “Bodies of Mothers” and became and instant sensation worlwide. Jade wants to redefine human beauty by showing the world that beauty comes in all sizes, shapes, colors and with all kind of stretch marks and imperfections. No Photoshop allowed.
We want to help make the world a slightly nicer place - one swimmer at a time. Our intention is for everyone to come out of the ocean feeling more optimistic, happier and connected.
The Sydney Skinny has nothing to do with being SEEN nude.
In fact we go to great lengths to make sure you aren’t seen nude - sarongs being given to everyone as they come out of the water.
It is an all ticketed, no spectator event in a secluded national park where everyone is fully clothed off the beach and the only nudity is on the beach before you dive into the water. Apart from our ’Media waves’ 1 & 2, this event is entirely media free.
So why bother making the event nude? Because that is what makes The Sydney Skinny so magical.
nothing but beautiful
It is about personally challenging yourself to step ever-so-slightly outside your comfort zone - in a way that is emancipating. That strips life back to its bare essentials. That forces you to accept your real self. That momentarily frees you from the stifling shackles modern society so often puts on us. And importantly encourages you to break free from your own self-imposed limitations.
Swimming nude is about being honest, fully alive and human.
It helps you draw a line in the sand, let go of the past and come out of the water somehow cleansed and focused anew on the future and making the most of your life in a way that is meaningful to you. It also feels great.
As many of us will remember from our more carefree youth there are few things as joyous and uplifting as a naked swim in beautifully clean ocean waters. Done alone it is wonderful. Done as part of a like-minded community it is simply fantastic, memorable and often life changing. It just wouldn’t be the same with a cossie on.
Un autre documentaire à ne pas louper, Il corpo delle donne :
Centré sur l’#Italie...
Quand je serai grand/e...
Contre les publicités sexistes
La publicité exploite le #corps des femmes pour susciter du #désir, générer de l’envie, exacerber les frustrations et rendre le produit à vendre attirant. Soumise aux normes aliénantes d’une #beauté stéréotypée, symbole du #plaisir_sexuel, ou encensant la ménagère passive cantonnée dans sa cuisine, l’#image des #femmes n’a jamais été autant instrumentalisée. Omniprésentes et conçues pour marquer les esprits, ces #représentations modèlent notre imaginaire et participent à la construction des #normes de #genre : d’un côté, la #féminité associée à la #jeunesse, à la #beauté et à la #maternité et, de l’autre, la #virilité à la #force, à la #puissance et à l’action. Loin d’être un art, tout sauf inoffensive – c’est-à-dire perçue au second degré par des consommateurs responsables –, la publicité véhicule les pires #clichés sexistes et renforce la #domination_patriarcale.
Mettre des crèmes sur sa peau, c’est aussi se protéger du monde extérieur | Slate.fr
Jia Tolentino écrit qu’en achetant un « démaquillant qui exfolie vos peaux mortes comme des miettes de gomme », elle n’était pas sûre « d’être en train d’acheter un produit pour la peau ou une béquille psychologique, ni de savoir s’il y avait vraiment une grande différence entre les deux ». Il vaut peut-être la peine d’analyser, éventuellement dans le cadre d’une thérapie, pourquoi tant d’entre nous ressentons le besoin de nous détourner du monde extérieur, des incessants tweets de Trump, du sentiment de terreur existentielle qui semble avoir imprégné notre pays, avec des rituels qui ne nous donnent que l’air de ne pas perdre les pédales.