Advance an original interpretation of two images, considering the images in the context of a historical moment or cultural phenomenon.
The logic of advertising requires a clear goal. One’s physical appearance is determined by one’s body and one’s apparel, and both of these are fodder for perceived judgment by advertisers. Western fashion has seen upheaval in the past century, resulting in a lack of clarity in what apparel represents success. It is primarily this loss of homogeneity which has resulted in a greater focus on the body in beauty advertisements, despite claims that the trend is a backlash against feminism. Having unrealistic goals regarding one’s body can in fact be dangerous, but an advertisement can only be held accountable to a limited extent for inciting that. The evolution of beauty advertising and the rise in statistics regarding poor body image simply show that despite greater political equality between males and females, some women can still be manipulated through advertising into acting against their own best interest.
The images tell us a lot about changes in technology and in the presentation of women as it has developed over the last century or so. The Bourjois advertisement (1933) is a water-color painting or colored drawing, the Lancôme (2010) a color photo: this may be a reflection of the improvements in print reproduction technology and cameras. In addition, the woman in the Bourjois advert seems shy and unforthcoming:
her eyes are closed as she looks at the vanity mirror and she wears a hat which confines her hair as well as as restrictive dress. Of course, the hat and her dress indicate a certain social class which is part of the adverts’ appeal which I deal with below.
Such candor about the body has been seen as a backlash against feminism, but this is not necessarily true. It may have as much to do with the gradual relaxation of censorship which began, even in the developed world, only in the 1960s. Equally some post-modern feminists have defend feminism in terms of women’s enjoyment of their bodies and their physical attractiveness, resulting in a culture of female assertiveness and pride – less a back lash against feminism than a development and refinement of it. Such feminists argue that women can be empowered through their beauty and sexual attractiveness, and that to be proud of one’s beauty and sexuality is a means, not of pandering to a patriarchal society, but of empowerment and autonomy.
What is especially interesting about the two adverts is that the image of femininity that is being projected and to which readers of the adverts are expected to aspire has changed in the decades that separate the adverts. The Bourjois advert claims that by using Springtime in Paris, a woman’s character, or at least the way her character is perceived, will be transformed – it is not just a question of smelling nicer. Using Springtime in Paris, it is claimed, will give you “personal charm wit individuality.” We might also note at the end of the advert that this perfume is available in the “better stores,” promising upward social mobility for those who use it. The modern advert makes no such claims, preferring to concentrate purely on the superficial qualities of appearance. Having said that, because Julia Roberts is not simply a good-looking, well-preserved Hollywood star, but an actress who has a reputation for playing individual, feisty women who are not stereotypical, it could be argued that the Lancôme advert also claims, subliminally, to change your character: using this mascara will not only make you look like Julia Roberts, but you may come to resemble the quirky, feisty characters that she often plays.
In both adverts the object being advertised – the Springtime in Paris perfume bottle and the mascara bottle and applicator - are given prominence ahd suggest the phallus, reminding readers of the ultimate purpose of these advertisements for – the attraction of the male sex. In the Bourjois advertisement the bottle is in the centre at the bottom of the advert; in the Lancôme advertisement it stands out by virtue of its color and by being isolated on the left hand side of the image. These images of pseudo-phallic objects clearly work on a subliminal level.
Turning to the words of each advertisement, there are marked differences. The most obvious is that the Bourjois advertisement uses many more words: some might argue that the modern advert uses fewer words because in the modern world have less time to read and that the image does more of the work. The words make clear that the appeal of each advert is intended to be very different, the Bourjois advertisement appeals to the aspirational sense in women who want to be seen as upwardly mobile in class terms. Certain informality is introduced by the use of the second person to address the readers. The unique and new qualities of the product are stressed, but the adjectives appeal to women who want to seen as having “personal charm witindividual ability." This product is for women who want to stress their “exquisite taste and individuality.” Towards the end the advert uses direct imperatives - “Join that enviable coterie of women who are admired by others. Try Springtime in Paris perfume.” (my italics). The text also uses ellipsis at the start of the second column which introduces an informal element into an otherwise rather formal piece of writing – the lexis, for example, is largely very formal with a high proportion of polysyllabic words. The Lancôme advertisement, by contrast appeals to fear – the fear that a woman’s lashes will not be striking enough to be noticed unless they use this product to “regenerate lash conditions.” Roberts’ age might also be relevant since although she is middle-aged she looks very youthful, so we might argue that this advert is aimed at middle-aged woman whose lashes are not as attractive as Julia Roberts’. The advert begins with minor sentences: which stress the originality of the product – “A Lancôme first” – and its primary purpose – “Lash-by-lash fullness.” The use of a neologism – “Définicils” – suggests the use of new techniques to create this mascara, as does the inclusion of “precious plant cell extract.” This sounds good and very natural, but we are not told why it is “precious” or what plant it comes from. The addition of such details (despite their vagueness) may reflect consumers’ increasing desire to know the source of what they buy and its composition, which is part of a larger social movement towards ethical shopping, but might also be related to personal health concerns and the abuse of animals which are sometimes used to test beauty products.. The Bourjois advert contains no such information. Overall this modern advertisement uses language sparingly and to give the impression of quasi-scientific developments in the field of mascara. The sparing use of language is often attributed to shorter modern attention spans ( less time to read and too much to read in our information overloaded age, so conventional wisdom would have it). However, it may also be because this advert is intended for a global market, and fewer words means that there are fewer words to be translated or even that the advert might appear in other countries with the English untranslated, such is the ubiquity of English as a global lingua franca.
There are, however, some similarities in the use of language. An obvious point to make is that although both adverts are intended for English-speakers the perfumes are made by French companies, and the name of the 1930s perfume – Springtime in Paris – explicitly trades on our assumption about how romantic Paris is in spring. Of course, centuries of tradition and expertise (as well as skilful and manipulative marketing!) have resulted in the reputation that French perfume enjoys. However, that reputation must also be enhanced by the image of the French language that English-speakers have: its reputation is as the language of love, romantic and beautiful. Both adverts also make use of adjectival intensifiers and modifiers to sell their product: in the Bourjois advert: “outstanding quality, true distinction, exquisite taste, inconceivably fine, supreme quality rouge.”
Despite their differences, there is a sense in which both advertisements do the same thing: they make women readers feel inadequate, because they not sophisticated and witty (the Bourjois advert) or because they do not look like Julia Roberts (the Lancôme advert). In this sense, in the world of advertising, patriarchal society still retians its power to treat woman as objects and passive consumers, while making then feel bad about the way they look and smell at the same time. This can result in women having unrealistic and potentially harmful goals about their body image and physical appearance.
At its extreme such unrealistic expectations can lead to such loss of self-esteem that women may be drawn to self-harm because the reality of their appearance does not measure up to the idealized images promulgated by the global-capitalist hegemony. We must not forget either that the purpose of both advertisements is to persuade women to buy products and thus make money for the company that sells the product. In that sense, little has changed in eighty years: women are still pawns in the hands of advertisers, being encouraged to buy products they do not really need in order to make an industrial conglomerate and its share-holders even more money. Naomi Wolf in The Beauty Myth sees advertising of this sort as a form of “destructive social control” (16) and is highly critical of an advertsing business whose task seems to be to promote “the myth of female perfection” (22), so that real women spend money trying to attain that perfection; she also observes that obsessing about an unattainable physical perfection is consciously encouraged by the capitalist-commercial establishment as a way of distracting women from much more important social concerns: inequalities in the workplace; the continued prevalence of domestic violence; the atrocious conviction rate for rapes; and, in the developing world, the archaic and barbaric ways that women are treated. For Wolf every glossy mascara advert is designed to make money, destroy women’s sense of self-esteem, and delay genuine female empowerment. Her standpoint finds an echo in the words of Cortese who argues that “advertising pushes us to material consumption and pulls us away from meaningful relationships for happiness” (9). Unless, of course, one naively believes that striking eye-lashes really are the cornerstone of happy, meaningful relationships!
Works Cited
Cortese, Anthony Joseph Paul. Provocateur: Images of Women and Minorities in Advertising. 2008. Blue Ridge Summit, PA: Rowman & Littlefield. Print.
Wolf, Naomi. The Beauty Myth: How Images of Beauty Are Used Against Women. 2002. New York: Harper Collins. Print.
