My first piece for the zine is War (between women): What is it good for? I was inspired to write this piece after seeing an advertisement by skin care brand Trilogy, which aims to whip up a competitive edge among women in order to sell their rosehip oil product. I look at why this ad is offensive to women, and why this kind of marketing strategy is counterproductive.
I found out yesterday that Living+Lifestyle magazine, for which I have been writing the monthly pet section for almost a year, will cease publishing in February. While it is a disappointment, it has freed up some time for me and I look forward to using that time to resume writing about animal protection issues, which I am very passionate about.
-------
War (between women): What is it good for?
October 2012
I was perplexed a few months ago when New Zealand skincare brand, Trilogy, resorted to dirty tactics to advertise a new product. I shouldn’t have been surprised – the beauty industry is synonymous with a particular brand of advertising that can provoke a spectrum of negative reactions in women, from discomfort to outrage.
Maybe my surprise stemmed from the subject of the ad: rosehip oil. Basking in the yellow glow of a spotlight, the bottle of rosehip oil stands on a stage below the words “New weapons in the war against other women”, with two crossed swords providing some unambiguous shorthand.
I absolutely love rosehip oil. It’s awesome stuff, honestly. But although it’s a permanent fixture in my bathroom cabinet, I don’t use it to get an “edge” over other women, or to prevail in any complexion competitions (if that was the case, I probably wouldn’t be revealing how wonderful I think it is on any kind of public platform!).
Incidentally, my reliance on rosehip oil took hold after brain surgery for an aneurysm ten years ago. I used it more casually before then as a moisturiser – its natural formulation and lack of animal ingredients initially attracting me – and I’d heard of its efficacy in diminishing scars. So as soon as the bandages came off, I applied it to my surgical scar religiously. It had quite dramatic – and fast – results, and my dedication to daily use was sealed.
Despite my disappointment over Trilogy’s recent ad, I knew that they were merely employing an age-old formula; one that is central to beauty advertising. They were playing into the tired notion that women must be in a perpetual state of competition with each other, an idea played out endlessly on billboards, in magazines, and online.
This type of advertising is certainly not unfamiliar to women. But it seemed quite incongruous, coming from a company which professes to value social responsibility as one of its central tenets, and which makes so-called “eco-friendly”, natural products. I actually expect these kinds of tactics from the larger, ubiquitous cosmetic and skincare brands, who load their products with chemicals, test on animals, and Photoshop their ads with the vigour of an extreme sport. But Trilogy claims to pride itself on ethics.
Social responsibility should undoubtedly extend to the way a company “speaks” to their target market (in this case, adult women). Openly demeaning your target market – pigeon-holing them, characterising them as trivial – is not an effective, or sustainable, marketing strategy. Trilogy learnt this, when a social media storm erupted over its ad and they were compelled to pull it.
The concept of eternal female competition, and the corresponding hyper-focus on looks, presents us with a sinister message which trumpets the aesthetic – and of course, youth – as supreme. The spoils of the “war”, ostensibly available to those purchasing Trilogy’s product, was presumably a youthful, enviable, wrinkle-free complexion.
The message that beauty is, and should be, women’s ultimate aspiration is pervasive and entrenched. In her penetrating 1990 book, The Beauty Myth: How Images of Beauty Are Used Against Women, Naomi Wolf claimed that images of female beauty were used as a political weapon against women’s advancement, and that female competition was intrinsically intertwined. She argued that the “beauty myth” had deep roots in Western society.
So it’s not news that the beauty industry’s reliance on spawning inadequacy among women keeps the wheels of its multi-billion dollar machine well-oiled. Profits hinge on inducing a competitive edge in women.
It’s also not news that this can have an insidious effect on a woman’s consciousness. Looks hyper-awareness and obsession can be an all-encompassing cloak over a woman’s psyche.
Strangely, although I can see through the manipulative profit motive of the beauty industry’s use of synthetic and airbrushed images of women, it can sometimes be hard to rise above it. The images can still serve to demoralise and engender feelings of inferiority within me, and I know many other women feel similarly.
Therefore, it can be overly simplistic to suggest that women should merely “rise above” these images and messages, and embrace “body confidence” (which itself has become a beauty industry buzz term). The only truly liberating path is for an unequivocal rejection of advertising and images which seek to suppress women’s confidence, and which pit us against each other – and against the “beauty ideal” - for the purposes of propping up beauty industry profits.
The fact that the Trilogy ad was toppled by a decisive public backlash is a strong sign that this kind of advertising has more than had its day. It is positive that social media can be harnessed to express objection to unethical advertising, and a company would ignore such an outpouring of public outrage at its own peril.
I am heartened by the fact that this ad prompted such criticism. And I am hopeful that women will continue to defend and support each other against ads and companies that aim to trivialise us.
