The girl's got it all. Money, fame, looks, the power of celebrity. And did I mention the lots and lots of mullah? I'm talking Benjamins! Hollywood, acclaim, a member of the Bel Air elite; famous parties, even a kid - independence! This girl has made it, made it big. A beautiful Hollywood starlet, afraid of what some nobody motherfucker thinks of her at a shitty party. What the fuck?
How does it happen that even when a woman is at the top of the social ladder in our surface society, no deeper than a nightclub mirror, that she still remains vulnerable, afraid and subservient to male desire rather than her own? She asks the player on her dinner date, "Aren't you afraid of me?" A ridiculous question when the ping-pong ball gets hit back across the table, no, princess, you're afraid of me. My judgmental eyes, my gaze, my thoughts and ideas and desires as I undress you holding the menu. Or maybe I just fancy your eyes. Even your kid is cute. So he plays the gentleman, feigns genuine interest, and stars sparkle in her dreamy eyes.
This is because the power-structure is patriarchal. When it comes to sex, Bender's starlet is playing to male-fantasy rather than her own. She offers sex in the bushes, in the bathroom, as she has acted out in Hollywood films, likely written and directed by men. The hamper is never even contemplated, why? Isn't that her fantasy, her desire? She is submissive without even realizing it, enslaved even at the heights of power. The Marxist-Feminist Collective notes about Jane Eyre, "[an asexual representation of the upwardly mobile bourgeoisie leads to reductionist readings] It neglects gender as determinant, by subsuming gender under class." (171 MLT). Jane Eyre is over a hundred years old, and yet the same critique is applicable to this very day.
I really love your hat.
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