Gettin' Down in Chi-Town
Reverse Objectification Vanity Fair is one of the best magazines out there. The articles are intellectually written, and cover topics of political and cultural interest. The photographs are breathtaking, crisp, controversial, and sometimes unforgettable. I found that I was grabbing the magazine at some check-out counter just about every month, so I finally bit the bullet and got a subscription. Now Vanity Fair comes straight to my door, and it’s become a fun little surprise to find it lying there on the tile underneath the mail slot, amid a messy pile of bills, red Netflix envelopes, and my roommate’s cycling periodicals. This month, the magazine was even more of a surprise to behold. The glossy cover, a prestigious place for any face to appear, usually shows a well-loved, seasoned actor, or a political figure in the midst of a scandal. But this issue’s cover is graced by a photo of two scantily-clad male soccer players with rock-hard bodies. Oh yeah. I realize this is starting to sound like an advertisement for a publication I do not really have any stake in, so let me be clear: I don’t always love everything Vanity Fair has to offer. In fact, beautiful as the photos are, I’m often disappointed by the photographers’ choices in how to shoot their subjects. Take, for instance, the cover a couple years ago featuring Scarlett Johansson, Keira Knightley and Tom Ford: the ladies are nude as can be, and the man is fully clothed. Sure, naked ladies are beautiful (although, frankly, Keira could eat a sandwich), but so are naked men! I thought this photo was grossly unfair. Luckily, the magazine appeared to get the idea when it made fun of itself a few months later, setting up a similar shot featuring Seth Rogen and a couple other funny dudes I adore (they, however, were wearing flesh-tone bodysuits). Then there was the whole Miley Cyrus debacle; another double standard, but in a different way. The poor girl was having her first photo shoot with the intrepid Annie Leibovitz, who had Miley take a couple shots shirtless, but from the back. Miley, being fifteen at the time, got a gigantic amount of flack when the photos went to press. She had to issue a formal apology to her fans, since her role-model status was at stake. I, personally, felt bad for her. This girl has been a super star for years, clearly made to grow up faster than usual. When she takes the next logical step of super-stardom (being photographed semi-nude by Annie!), she’s suddenly attacked. Whereas, if she had just waited a couple years, Miley could have been completely nude right there on the cover, and everyone would’ve praised the artistic quality of the photo, while secretly jerking off to it. Then there’s the “Vanities” section of the magazine, the first page of which always features a pinup style portrait of some rising young starlet. Clearly, I love pinup style photos (have you seen my blog?). I also appreciate this forum for promotion of new, talented actors who may be overlooked otherwise; it’s how I’ve found out more about Freida Pinto and Channing Tatum, to name a couple. I have been a little perturbed about the difference in the way they feature boys versus girls, though. As can be assumed, the girls are usually dressed in bikinis or skimpy lingerie, the boys in sharp three-piece suits. While both wardrobe styles are mad sexy, I wouldn’t be opposed to see some more skin on a guy once in a while! Apparently Vanity Fair heard my inner monologue of disgruntled ramblings about the unfairness of it all. Each of the June issue’s footie champions are photographed in their underwear. Very little is left to the imagination. We are shown their mountainous biceps, their washboard torsos, their adorable knowing smiles. And there is no hiding the bulge of each guy’s package, barely covered by a pair of spandex boxers in the pattern of the flag of the respective player’s home country. Shockingly, my first reaction was actually a feeling of discomfort. I wasn’t used to seeing the outline of a famous guy’s junk! I discovered that when all those dangly bits are scrunched into some tighties, it’s difficult to discern which lump is which. What part was what? How could these guys agree to put themselves on display like that? Then I mentally smacked myself in the face. This is just what every celebrity photo shoot of a woman is about! How much will she undress, how much skin do we see? If she’s in her undies, can we see the outline of her nipples? Is it riding up on her booty? In an endless cycle, the media gives the public half-naked women, then the public wants to see half-naked women, so the media shows more half-naked women. Women are constantly objectified in the way they are portrayed in the ads and articles we see every day. So, in a rare instance of what I have dubbed “reverse objectification,” the sports stars in this issue of Vanity Fair are pure man-candy. And I’m alright with that. Goddamn, look at that package. Xoxo, Lucy

Reverse Objectification

Vanity Fair is one of the best magazines out there. The articles are intellectually written, and cover topics of political and cultural interest. The photographs are breathtaking, crisp, controversial, and sometimes unforgettable. I found that I was grabbing the magazine at some check-out counter just about every month, so I finally bit the bullet and got a subscription. Now Vanity Fair comes straight to my door, and it’s become a fun little surprise to find it lying there on the tile underneath the mail slot, amid a messy pile of bills, red Netflix envelopes, and my roommate’s cycling periodicals.

This month, the magazine was even more of a surprise to behold. The glossy cover, a prestigious place for any face to appear, usually shows a well-loved, seasoned actor, or a political figure in the midst of a scandal. But this issue’s cover is graced by a photo of two scantily-clad male soccer players with rock-hard bodies. Oh yeah.

I realize this is starting to sound like an advertisement for a publication I do not really have any stake in, so let me be clear: I don’t always love everything Vanity Fair has to offer. In fact, beautiful as the photos are, I’m often disappointed by the photographers’ choices in how to shoot their subjects. Take, for instance, the cover a couple years ago featuring Scarlett Johansson, Keira Knightley and Tom Ford: the ladies are nude as can be, and the man is fully clothed. Sure, naked ladies are beautiful (although, frankly, Keira could eat a sandwich), but so are naked men! I thought this photo was grossly unfair. Luckily, the magazine appeared to get the idea when it made fun of itself a few months later, setting up a similar shot featuring Seth Rogen and a couple other funny dudes I adore (they, however, were wearing flesh-tone bodysuits).

Then there was the whole Miley Cyrus debacle; another double standard, but in a different way. The poor girl was having her first photo shoot with the intrepid Annie Leibovitz, who had Miley take a couple shots shirtless, but from the back. Miley, being fifteen at the time, got a gigantic amount of flack when the photos went to press. She had to issue a formal apology to her fans, since her role-model status was at stake. I, personally, felt bad for her. This girl has been a super star for years, clearly made to grow up faster than usual. When she takes the next logical step of super-stardom (being photographed semi-nude by Annie!), she’s suddenly attacked. Whereas, if she had just waited a couple years, Miley could have been completely nude right there on the cover, and everyone would’ve praised the artistic quality of the photo, while secretly jerking off to it.

Then there’s the “Vanities” section of the magazine, the first page of which always features a pinup style portrait of some rising young starlet. Clearly, I love pinup style photos (have you seen my blog?). I also appreciate this forum for promotion of new, talented actors who may be overlooked otherwise; it’s how I’ve found out more about Freida Pinto and Channing Tatum, to name a couple. I have been a little perturbed about the difference in the way they feature boys versus girls, though. As can be assumed, the girls are usually dressed in bikinis or skimpy lingerie, the boys in sharp three-piece suits. While both wardrobe styles are mad sexy, I wouldn’t be opposed to see some more skin on a guy once in a while!

Apparently Vanity Fair heard my inner monologue of disgruntled ramblings about the unfairness of it all. Each of the June issue’s footie champions are photographed in their underwear. Very little is left to the imagination. We are shown their mountainous biceps, their washboard torsos, their adorable knowing smiles. And there is no hiding the bulge of each guy’s package, barely covered by a pair of spandex boxers in the pattern of the flag of the respective player’s home country.

Shockingly, my first reaction was actually a feeling of discomfort. I wasn’t used to seeing the outline of a famous guy’s junk! I discovered that when all those dangly bits are scrunched into some tighties, it’s difficult to discern which lump is which. What part was what? How could these guys agree to put themselves on display like that?

Then I mentally smacked myself in the face. This is just what every celebrity photo shoot of a woman is about! How much will she undress, how much skin do we see? If she’s in her undies, can we see the outline of her nipples? Is it riding up on her booty? In an endless cycle, the media gives the public half-naked women, then the public wants to see half-naked women, so the media shows more half-naked women. Women are constantly objectified in the way they are portrayed in the ads and articles we see every day. So, in a rare instance of what I have dubbed “reverse objectification,” the sports stars in this issue of Vanity Fair are pure man-candy.

And I’m alright with that. Goddamn, look at that package.

Xoxo, Lucy

12 May 16
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I'm Lucy. I live in Chicago and I like to talk about sex. Give me a topic: I'm happy to answer any questions about love, sex, and relationships. Email me at LucyRockwell@gmail.com


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