As a contributor to my local public radio station, I receive their magazine, Desert Companion. I don’t find it particularly compelling, because the intended audience for many of the articles must shop at a higher price point than I do; a story about Tom Ford opening a new boutique is entirely irrelevant to me.

Given the economic crisis facing Las Vegas (as of December 2010, our unemployment rate was 14.9%), I was particularly struck by the class assumptions in an article in the January 2011 issue. It discussed the opening of a new H&M store and provides rules for getting the most out of shopping there:

Notice Rule 3:

Well, perhaps. I don’t personally own any $200+ shoes, but I’ll accept the general idea that at least up to a point, when you pay more, you may get higher quality, and insofar as that means they last longer, it may be an overall better investment per dollar, long-term. I’m just going to set aside the fact that you may also be paying mainly for a brand name, not significantly better construction (in terms of being more comfortable or lasting longer).

Even if the premise is entirely true, the breeziness of saying you should go spend a minimum of $200 if you want “decent footwear” (not truly amazing shoes, just decent ones) is an example of the type of class assumptions that make the poor or working class invisible while the experiences or opportunities of the upper middle class (and above) are presented as normal . You are, of course, only “better off” spending $200+ on a single pair of shoes if you have an extra $200 that is entirely unnecessary for your basic needs and that you don’t need to put in savings for an emergency or retirement.

Further, advice such as that given here present this as simply a matter of being economically smart, rather than as a class issue: unless you’re looking for the type of trendy shoes that you’ll only want to wear briefly anyway, you shouldn’t waste your time at H&M.  Similarly, in grad school I was once told I was “dumb” to rent rather than buy a house, in a town where they cost $150,000+. In both cases, the opportunities provided by economic advantage are perceived as economic common sense, obvious choices for anyone who is smart and has decent taste. Combined with the invisibility of people who can’t afford to spend that much money, accepting these class assumptions allows us to gaze disdainfully at people in “cheap” shoes, confident that they, too, are simply “cheap.”

For another example, see our post on TheLadders.com, where non-rich folk just mess things up for the worthy.

Most Americans, when asked if they are affected by advertising, will say “not really.” They say they skip the print ads in magazine, ignore the ones on the street, mute TV commercials, and are generally too savvy to be swayed by their messages.

Here’s some data illustrating the not-me phenomenon. The Kaiser Family Foundation asked 15- to 17-year-olds whether they and their friends were influenced by sexual content on TV.

Seventy-two percent of teens say that sexual content on TV affects their friends “a lot” or “somewhat”:

But only 22 percent say that sexual content on TV affects them “a lot” or “somewhat”:

Advertisers know that most Americans are wrong about whether advertising affects them.  That’s why they spent $117 billion in 2009 trying to convince you to buy their product. It works. So it must be affecting somebody, right?

Images borrowed from Strasburger’s Children, Adolescents, and the Media.

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

Hope H. sent a link to Riese’s excellent discussion of Jessie J’s new music video at Autostraddle.  Jessie J is already a superstar, writing songs for the likes of Justin Timberlake, Chris Brown, and Christina Aguilera.  But this is her first album where she writes for herself, and Riese describes the video for the song “Do It Like a Dude” as infused with “fuck you i’m fucking your face with my fucking song” energy.  I can’t disagree.

The song asserts it’s title, suggesting that Jessie J is as much a man as any man, as a sample of the lyrics shows:

Boom Boom, pull me a beer
No pretty drinks, I’m a guy out here
Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ money like a pimp
My B I T C H’s on my d*ck like this

Riese asks:

…“Do It Like a Dude” is, on the surface, an anthem of independence — the only reaction Jessie J expects from your wannabe-boyfriend is his acknowledgment that lesbian sex doesn’t need him.  But does singing that she can do “it” “like a dude” just play into the idea that a thing must be “male” to be valid? Or can “dude” be a term independent of its ascribed meaning — is she… employing “dude” as an adjective encompassing “male” traits like strength/power/aggression, freeing the term from its traditional application as a noun for “person with penis”?

That is, does valorizing masculinity in women liberate women?  Or would it be better to try to elevate femininity to match our admiration of masculinity?  And is it possible to liberate the word from its patriarchal trappings?

What say you?

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

Heather Downs, an Assistant Professor at Jacksonville University, pointed out a post by Sadie Stein at Jezebel about a recent graphic from the USA Today Snapshots feature; we’re pleased to repost it here, with some additional comments from me below.

———-

Women just love, love, love housework! Says a survey. Conducted by cleaning product.

Apparently under the impression that we also believe cigarettes are soothing to the throat and little kids love laxatives, Scrubbing Bubbles (or rather, the impartial survey they commissioned) informs us (via USA Today) that an overwhelming percentage of women in every age group “enjoy the dirty work of keeping their house clean.”

Now, I know there are indeed women — and men, for that matter — who do indeed find satisfaction in the tangible rewards of cleaning (although I can’t pretend to be one of them.) But…why is this survey for and about women exclusively? Maybe because it comes from the same universe in which women — exclusively — scrub and sweep and swiffer with expressions of cheerful serenity in pastel-hued V-necks.

That said, in their defense, at least as of 1978, the bubbles themselves seem to have been masculine. And do not appear to be perverts:

[Via: Scrubbing Bubbles Says: All women are cleaning ladies (Mislabeled)]

Send an email to Sadie Stein, the author of this post, at Sadie@jezebel.com.

———-

Aside from the gendered element, it’s also a great example of the conflation of marketing-type materials with the surrounding, presumably non-advertising, material. Without having to buy advertising space, Scrubbing Bubbles gets a mention next to an item that says women think cleaning is awesome!

Also see how excited Kelly Ripa is to do laundry and product placement on Days of Our Lives.

The color of one’s nipples varies according to the color of one’s skin. Lighter-skinned people tend to have lighter nipples, while darker-skinned people tend to have darker nipples. To add to the many racist products and procedures designed to make the bodies of darker-skinned people more like the bodies of lighter-skinned people — eyelid surgery, eyelid gluing, Asian rhinoplasty, hair straightening, and skin lightening — Theresa W. sent in a product designed to make the nipples more “pink.”  These products, featured at The Faster Times, seem to be mostly aimed at the Asian market, many of whom are already quite light-skinned.  Below is a selection of the many products one can find.

Finale Pink Nipple Cream:

Bioglo Cherry Pink Lip Nipple Cream:

The rest are after the jump because the packaging shows images of breasts.

more...

Kari B. sent in an example of the sexualization of teen boys, found at Evil Slutopia. Justin Bieber appears on the cover of the February 2011 Vanity Fair covered in lipstick, with a hand grabbing him by his necktie:

An image from the article:

Justin Bieber is 16 years old — just a year older than Miley Cyrus was when there was a scandal about her photoshoot for Vanity Fair, such that it appeared to potentially threaten her career at Disney by ruining her safe, clean-cut image. I think it’s safe to say that if Miley Cyrus, or another female teen star, posed in photos that showed evidence of being kissed or grabbed by male fans, people would be up in arms about the sexualization of girls. But as we often see, there’s a double-standard, based on the idea that boys are naturally sexual at earlier ages and that boys are sexually invincible. While we might see a teen girl surrounded by men as being in danger, we don’t think of girls as being sexually threatening to boys, or of male teen celebrities’ sexuality being as open to exploitation by publicists, photographers, or other members of the media. And thus, these types of images of Justin Bieber don’t lead to the same outcry as similar images of female teen stars, and don’t cause concern that his career as a teen idol is over.

We’ve discussed the adultification of Justin Bieber before, here and here; you might also check out our post on the sexualization of Jaden Smith.

Gwen Sharp is an associate professor of sociology at Nevada State College. You can follow her on Twitter at @gwensharpnv.

He got a B-minus. Which wasn’t so bad! He was only out-performed by 15% of his class: 5 B-pluses, 2 A-minuses, and exactly zero As.  In contrast, a whopping 33% got a C or worse.

It turns out, JFK was already benefitting from grade inflation — the slow shift in the average grade point average in higher education — even in 1940. The chart below, borrowed from gradeinflation.com, shows that the average grade had gone up by 0.1 on  a 4.0 scale between 1935 and Kennedy’s not-so-fateful grade report.  Since then, however, has gone up another 0.7 points.

I’m well-known ’round campus for being a hard grader, but I’m no Professor Emerson.

Thanks to Matthew Beckmann for helping Kennedy’s paltry performance (I kid) see the light of day.  And to Jay Livingston for bringing it to my attention.  See also our post on pants inflation.

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

We owe the term “sociological imagination” to C. Wright Mills, a fundamental figure in sociology. He defined it as the intersection of history and biography. In his book by the same name, he writes:

The sociological imagination enables us to grasp history and biography and the relations between the two within society

I couldn’t help but think of Mills’ words when I came across this video at Crooked Timber.  In it, French children are asked to interpret technologies that, though just a few years out of date, pre-date their biography. While their guesses are creative and humorous, they also neatly demonstrate that, no matter how unique we are, we are also products of our time.

UPDATE: Unfortunately the version of this video that had English subtitles has been made private and we haven’t been able to find another version. Here’s a version without any subtitles:

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.