Spotted in a Toronto subway station: These billboards for Harry Rosen, the elite Canadian men’s clothing store. I was intrigued by the no-holds-barred equation of masculinity, sexuality, physicality, money, and ownership. Also, these men “own” the “night” and the “weekend,” not traditional work times, but of course, presumably these hours extend (and are made possible by) their “ownership” of the daytime. This ad also reflects constantly shifting norms for male beauty, including a multi-racial man and a man with heavily tattooed arms who appears a model of business suave—his arm decoration enhancing rather than detracting from the power and success he represents. These men suggest progress in representations of ideal masculinity but yet of course, maintain the norm that it is beauty—however defined—that means success. And though different men may step on to this stage, they play the same parts when it comes to notions of masculine power. Harry Rosen’s models may be objectified, as targets of a gaze, but, they “own” their surroundings in traditional masculine style.
Publix, my (generally wonderful-other-than-their-refusal-to-support-the-CIW) regional grocery chain, saw fit to conceal this recent TIME Magazine cover on the rack, in the traditional manner of hiding pornography (I uncovered it to take the photo). As you can see, this issue—with the cover story discussing women’s changing approaches to breast cancer—was adjacent to Shape, also concealed, presumably due to the scantily clad model on its cover (who was herself adjacent to a headline screaming “Shrink Your Belly!”). [At least, I’m guessing it was the model’s barely covered breasts that earned the Shape cover-up, and not the general offensiveness of reproducing tired and destructive messages about the female body and the need to make it ever-smaller. ]
Certainly, it’s intriguing that TIME chose a naked and conventionally slender female torso to make its point about a woman’s wrenching choice when it comes to investigating her propensity for breast cancer. On the other hand, the magazine is clearly depicting a woman doing a self-exam—not a sexual act—and yet the store has relegated it to the status of quasi-pornography on the check-out rack. (This juxtaposition seems particularly evocative when we also consider the widely socially accepted sexualized discourse around breast cancer—the “save the tatas” movement.)
Surrounding these two magazines—one actually about women’s health, the other about marketing women’s bodies and sexuality—both covered in the manner of pornography—are other magazines promoting multiple varieties of American consumerism and intersecting it with gender, in the home, in the bedroom, in the mall. These messages, of course, gain no such censure.