Copyright is owned by the Author of the thesis. Permission is given for a copy to be downloaded by an individual for the purpose of research and private study only. The thesis may not be reproduced elsewhere without the permission of the Author. i “SHE GOT THE POWER”: THE INTERSECTION OF GENDER, FEMINISM AND POP MUSIC A thesis presented in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in Sociology Massey University, Albany, New Zealand Ruby Cain 2021 ii Abstract Pop music has long contributed to feminist discourse and practice as performers use their global platforms to disseminate ideas that combat sexism, gender discrimination, gender-based violence, and promote gender equality. The music industry’s engagement with feminism occurs at the same time, however, as many young women distance themselves from feminism. With this apparent tension in mind, this research is concerned with new expressions of feminism in pop music and, specifically, how these expressions are perceived by an audience of young women. To explore this, a feminist research methodology was adopted that centred young women’s views, amplified their experiential knowledge and sense-making practices, and fostered a space of reflexivity. Multiple integrated qualitative research methods (the production of a music portfolio, followed by two focus groups) were used to explore how six young women made meaning from pop music they identified as concerned with feminism or gender-related issues. A feminist methodology and employing multiple methods that placed music and young women’s responses to music at the centre of inquiry was valuable for fostering a participant-centred, reflexive and generative research space. Iterative thematic analysis showed that young women have ambivalent subject positions regarding feminism, regardless of whether they personally identify as feminist. On the one hand, they valued principles of gender equality, but distanced themselves from feminist rhetoric they associated with a “radicalised” feminism. On the other hand, they valued performers they considered to be radical in their subversion of gender norms. Relatedly, participants felt empowered by performances they deemed overtly feminist in their contestation of gender norms. Somewhat paradoxically, analysis also revealed that participants returned to a gender binary as they sought to make sense of pop music performances. Participants constructed reductionist dichotomies of ‘sensual/sexual’ to describe embodied performances they deemed acceptable and unacceptable, respectively. Similarly, they constructed an affective dichotomy of ‘vulnerable/aggressive’ that was readily mapped onto categories of feminine and masculine, respectively. These dichotomies reflect heteronormative constructions of women and women’s bodies. An ambivalent subject position emerges for young women as they navigate progressive feminist discourses that advance women’s bodily autonomy, and a return to regressive heteronormative constructions of femininity and masculinity iii that rest on the gender binary. As such, the research raises questions about the future of contemporary feminism. While ambivalence might appear at first glance as uncertainty and therefore of little value or concern for a feminist agenda, I argue that such ambivalence can be read as productive and generative, and has the capacity to foster societal change. iv Acknowledgements It seems a near impossible task to express my appreciation to the incredible whānau who supported me through this journey but just like the seeming impossible task of producing a master’s thesis, I’ll give it a go! First and foremost, I would like to thank my supervisors, Dr Alice Beban and Dr Vicky Walters, whose endless support never faltered, even when I took a U-turn and completely changed research topics! Not only did they provide me with their depth of knowledge and the right questions to get me thinking, they also supported me through the emotional ups and downs of producing a thesis. Their passion for the project and support of me was unwavering, even in the moments when I felt confused and lost. A huge thank you to the six young women who generously sacrificed their Saturday afternoons to talk with me about gender, feminism and pop music. It was a fun experience and your views, insights and ideas are invaluable to this project – quite simply, I could not have done it without you. Particular appreciation must also be expressed to my family. My brother, Josh, saw my potential when I couldn’t and insisted I was smart enough to go to university. My Dad, Shawn, encouraged and supported me throughout, keeping me stocked up on coffee and gin. And special thanks go to my Mum, Dr Trudie Cain. Little did I know that all those chats about feminism and gender when I was growing up would lead to me proudly following in her sociological footsteps. She has been such an inspiration, taking on the role of master’s coach, cheering me on, helping me grapple with my ideas over the dinner table and even hiding my phone to keep me focused (such a mum thing to do). Thanks to you all. And finally, a special thank you to my wonderful friends whose support and encouragement never faded. Special mention is owed to Lilla and Bex who have always been my go-to feminist buddies. And a particular shout out goes to Nicki Trueman who in the early days of our postgraduate study shared supervision meetings with me but became a good friend along the way. Your good humour, encouragement and friendship got me through. To all of you, I am deeply grateful. v Table of Contents ABSTRACT................................................................................................................................... II ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ............................................................................................................. IV THESIS AND CHAPTER TITLES – A NOTE ..................................................................................... VII LIST OF TABLES ....................................................................................................................... VIII LIST OF FIGURES .........................................................................................................................IX CHAPTER 1: “POWER” - AN INTRODUCTION ................................................................................ 1 INTRODUCTION........................................................................................................................................1 INTRODUCING THE FIELD: THE POLITICS OF FEMINISM AND POPULAR CULTURE .....................................................4 ROADMAP OF THE THESIS ..........................................................................................................................6 CHAPTER 2: “COME ON LITTLE LADY, GIVE US A SMILE” - MAPPING THE TERRAIN OF FEMINISM AND POPULAR CULTURE ............................................................................................................. 8 INTRODUCTION........................................................................................................................................8 RELEVANCE OF FEMINISM IN CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY ....................................................................................9 KEY THEMES IN CONTEMPORARY FEMINISM ............................................................................................... 16 ‘Grab ‘em by the patriarchy’: Patriarchy and the oppression of women.................................... 16 Sexualisation and objectification: Violence, harassment and body autonomy .......................... 17 Empowerment ............................................................................................................................. 20 POPULAR CULTURE: ‘PORNS IN THE INDUSTRY’ ........................................................................................... 23 CONCLUSION ....................................................................................................................................... 28 CHAPTER 3: “I KEEP A RECORD OF THE WRECKAGE IN MY LIFE” - (POP) MUSIC AND METHODOLOGY ........................................................................................................................ 30 INTRODUCTION..................................................................................................................................... 30 METHODOLOGY: FEMINIST SOCIAL CONSTRUCTIONISM ................................................................................ 31 METHOD ............................................................................................................................................. 33 Recruitment ................................................................................................................................. 33 Introducing the participants ....................................................................................................... 34 Music portfolios .......................................................................................................................... 35 Focus group one .......................................................................................................................... 38 Focus group two .......................................................................................................................... 41 Analysing the data ...................................................................................................................... 44 ETHICAL CONSIDERATIONS ...................................................................................................................... 46 CONCLUSION ....................................................................................................................................... 47 CHAPTER 4: “ALL THE THINGS YOU TOLD ME NOT TO BE” – AMBIVALENT CONSTRUCTIONS OF FEMINISM AND EMPOWERMENT .............................................................................................. 49 INTRODUCTION..................................................................................................................................... 49 CONSTRUCTIONS OF FEMINISM: IT’S COMPLICATED ..................................................................................... 50 Personal constructions of feminism ............................................................................................ 50 Constructing gender and feminism through pop music .............................................................. 56 EMPOWERMENT AS MANIFESTATION OF FEMINISM ..................................................................................... 64 Participants’ internal constructions of empowerment ............................................................... 64 The relationship between music and empowerment.................................................................. 66 CONCLUSION ....................................................................................................................................... 71 CHAPTER 5: “I COULD PLAY NICE, OR I COULD BE A BULLY” – A RETURN TO DICHOTOMOUS CONSTRUCTIONS OF GENDER .................................................................................................... 72 INTRODUCTION..................................................................................................................................... 72 DICHOTOMY OF SEXUAL AND SENSUAL ...................................................................................................... 73 Making sense of Little Mix: A “sexual” performance .................................................................. 73 Making sense of Ariana Grande: From a “sexual” to a “sensual” performance ........................ 78 vi DICHOTOMY OF FEMININE AND MASCULINE ............................................................................................... 83 Making sense of Kesha: A “feminine” performance ................................................................... 84 Making sense of Halsey: Towards an unacceptably masculinised performance ........................ 91 CONCLUSION ....................................................................................................................................... 99 CHAPTER 6: “I WISH YOU FAREWELL” - CONCLUSION ............................................................... 101 INTRODUCTION................................................................................................................................... 101 AMBIVALENCE – A CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK ......................................................................................... 102 AMBIVALENT FEMINIST RESEARCHER SUBJECT POSITIONS ............................................................................ 103 AMBIVALENT PARTICIPANT SUBJECT POSITIONS ......................................................................................... 106 THE (AMBIVALENT) FUTURE OF FEMINISM................................................................................................ 110 REFERENCES ........................................................................................................................... 113 APPENDICES ........................................................................................................................... 137 APPENDIX A: PARTICIPANT ADVERTISEMENT POSTER ................................................................................. 137 APPENDIX B: EMAIL TEMPLATE TO POTENTIAL PARTICIPANTS ....................................................................... 138 APPENDIX C: INFORMATION SHEET ........................................................................................................ 139 APPENDIX D: MUSIC PORTFOLIO INSTRUCTIONS ....................................................................................... 141 APPENDIX E: PARTICIPANT CONSENT FORM ............................................................................................. 143 APPENDIX F: FOCUS GROUP (1) INTERVIEW GUIDE .................................................................................... 144 APPENDIX G: FOCUS GROUP (2) INTERVIEW GUIDE ................................................................................... 146 vii Thesis and chapter titles – A note The thesis and chapter titles include a title or lyric from a song examined in this research. When used for a chapter, the lyrics or song title reflect the theme of the chapter ahead. A description of each title is reported below (Table 1). Table 1: Thesis and chapter titles Thesis or chapter title Artist and song title Format “She got the power”: The intersection of gender, feminism and pop music Miley Cyrus - ‘Mother’s Daughter’ Song lyric Chapter One: “Power” – An introduction Little Mix - ‘Power’ Song title Chapter Two: “Come on little lady, give us a smile” – Mapping the terrain of feminism and popular culture Halsey - ‘Nightmare’ Song lyric Chapter Three: “I keep a record of the wreckage in my life” – (Pop) Music and methodology Halsey - ‘Nightmare’ Song lyric Chapter Four: “All the things you told me not to be” – Ambivalent constructions of feminism and empowerment Ariana Grande - ‘God is a Woman’ Song lyric Chapter Five: “I could play nice, or I could be a bully” – A return to dichotomous constructions of gender Halsey - ‘Nightmare’ Song lyric Chapter Six: “I wish you farewell” – Conclusion Kesha - ‘Praying’ Song lyric viii List of tables Table 1: Thesis and chapter titles .............................................................................. vii Table 2: Contributing participants ............................................................................. 35 Table 3: Artists and songs included in music portfolios............................................. 37 Table 4: Song choices used in the first focus group ................................................... 38 Table 5: Song choices used in the second focus group.............................................. 42 ix List of figures Figure 1: Stills from 'Blurred Lines' – Depictions of the male gaze ............................ 25 Figure 2: Examples of music portfolios – Holly and Rory........................................... 36 Figure 3: Beyoncé at the VMA awards ....................................................................... 50 Figure 4: Rose's writing exercise on feminism ........................................................... 54 Figure 5: Stills from ‘Mother’s Daughter’ – Fat woman on chaise longue; person in wheelchair .................................................................................................................. 57 Figure 6: Stills from ‘Mother’s Daughter’ – Breastfeeding menstruation, menstruation and scars.............................................................................................. 57 Figure 7: Still from ‘Mother’s Daughter’ – Vagina dentata ........................................ 58 Figure 8: Stills from ‘Mother’s Daughter’ – Text as protest....................................... 58 Figure 9: Images from Ariana Grande's Instagram page to illustrate Elizabeth’s point .................................................................................................................................... 70 Figure 10: Stills from ‘Woman Like Me’ – Compliance .............................................. 74 Figure 11: Stills from ‘Woman Like Me’ – Contestation ............................................ 74 Figure 12: Still from ‘Woman like Me’ – 'Chairography' dancing ............................. 75 Figure 13: Stills from ‘Woman like Me’ – Group being measured, walking along a scale; group dancing in the balanced scales .............................................................. 75 Figure 14: Stills from ‘God is a Woman’ – Women-only recreation of Michelangelo's ‘The Creation of Adam’ .............................................................................................. 79 Figure 15: Stills from ‘God is a Woman’ – Breaking the glass ceiling and legs spread .................................................................................................................................... 79 Figure 16: Still from ‘God is a Woman’ – Grande having insults thrown at her by physically small men .................................................................................................. 80 Figure 17: Still from ‘God is a Woman’ – Grande swimming in purple water ........... 81 Figure 18: Stills from ‘Praying’ – Religion themes ..................................................... 85 Figure 19: Stills from ‘Praying’ – “Ugly” pigs' heads chasing Kesha; Televisions with societal messages ....................................................................................................... 86 Figure 20: Stills from ‘Nightmare’ – Aggression, blood and female fight club .......... 91 Figure 21: Stills from ‘Nightmare’ – Beauty standards .............................................. 92 Figure 22: Still from ‘Nightmare’ – Bloodied teeth .................................................... 93 Figure 23: Stills from ‘Nightmare’ – Halsey grabbing her crotch ............................... 96 1 Chapter 1: “Power” - An introduction Introduction In July 2019, I attended a feminist performance called ‘POWER’ with a friend. It was described as a tribute to pop group ‘Little Mix’ and featured four young women (just like ‘Little Mix’) dancing to Little Mix’ songs and sharing their gendered experiences and “emotional feminist rants” with the audience (Basement, 2019, n.p.). After the performance, I wrote about my experience of being there. Below is an excerpt from my writing: I feel great after watching that performance! I’d never really been a big fan of Little Mix, but because of my interest in feminism and pop music, they were on my radar. The songs were awesome, the music was loud and uplifting, and the dances were great too. Little Mix’s soundtrack was all about girl power, empowerment and lifting other women up and I felt really positive and confident afterwards, so clearly it worked! The group performed synchronised dance routines too. They weren’t professional dances, more like well-choreographed home-made dance moves. They were just up there having a great time, dancing to music that made them feel happy and connected to being a woman. They reminded me of the dances I made up with my friends when I was a kid. Back then, we didn’t care what we looked like, it was just fun. We didn’t feel embarrassed that we weren’t any good or wondered what those watching would think of us. But then patriarchy got in the way. We grew up and patriarchy kicked in and we grew up to reject our bodies, fear the threat of judgement from the outside world (especially from a man) and we grew out of the days when we’d dance like nobody’s watching. The patriarchy does that to us and makes us think little and therefore become little. One of the songs was about stripping and a fifth woman came on stage and danced very provocatively with the four main performers, eventually stripping down to her undies. My main worry was ‘holy shit, there was an old guy in the audience, what is he gonna say, is he gonna be creepy?’ I found 2 myself almost not wanting to look, thinking I was being creepy for watching. I kept looking away or at the other dancers instead and I remember thinking, ‘why are they dancing so provocatively? Why is that necessary? Are they being ironic?’ As I reflect on my responses, first about a man watching this performance and then about myself watching the performance, I realise how much patriarchy is at play. My default assumption about a man watching a sexual performance of a woman is that he would be creepy and not able to control his sexual urges. As for myself, I felt ashamed and uncomfortable watching the performance and was confused about its purpose. But the women had every right to perform on that stage in whatever way they wanted. By the end, I was so into it, it was really empowering! It’s funny cause even though I felt so empowered watching them all in what felt like such a safe space for women, I kept reflecting on how I’d organised to talk to my boyfriend the next morning and how terrified I was of what he would say - would he leave me? Think I was too hard to deal with? So, even though this performance was empowering for me in this moment, it was fleeting. I was still very aware that although this was a safe space, I still had to go back out into the patriarchy when I left the room. I found myself wanting to stay in that moment, not wanting it to end … I wanted to start my thesis with this self-reflective piece to locate myself in this project and to locate my experience in the broader social context of gendered dynamics, popular culture and patriarchy. Although this reflection is deeply personal, it raises significant issues about feminism in contemporary society. First, it highlights the power of popular culture, and pop music in particular, to draw attention to social and political issues. The performance, and my experience and reflections of it, also raises ideas – and questions – about what it means to be empowered. This echoes a debate in current feminist scholarship that critically examines what empowerment looks like, how meaningful it is, and what impact it might have (see hooks, 2010; Whippman, 2016). Is empowerment about an intense, yet fleeting moment, as it was for me during the performance, or can it be sustained over time, potentially generating individual and structural change? Chapter Four will explore this question in further depth. My reflections also critique patriarchy, the male gaze and my own ambivalent subject position in that moment. The performance was constructed as a safe space for women, but for me it remained located within a patriarchal system. My writing speaks to the importance of women’s spaces and the value of coming together in solidarity to share experientially based stories of being strong, smart and powerful without undue focus on men. Central to my reflection is the performance of women’s 3 bodies and bodily autonomy: who has the power to decide how and under what circumstances women can perform? This question is underpinned by current debates among feminists about the politics of gendered sexual practices, in particular, between ‘sex positive’ feminists who attempt to challenge discriminatory slut shaming practices against women and reframe women’s sexual choices as positive (Sollee, 2017) and anti-pornography feminists who argue the case for the abolition of the sex industry (Bindel, 2019). This debate, often described as the “contemporary feminist sex wars” (Showden, 2016, p. 1), is suggestive of a dichotomous construction of these issues with clear oppositional positions about the best way forward. At the performance, however, my ambivalence was laid bare as I embodied these competing normative ideas about feminism, women and their bodies. I explore these debates as they relate to participants further in Chapter Five. These reflections, and the ambivalent subject position it produced for me, reflect the foundation of this thesis. It is here at the intersection of feminism, popular culture, and young women that this thesis is located. While some might argue that popular culture is somewhat frivolous in the context of so many serious issues faced by society today, the role of popular culture should not be underestimated. As discussed below, and further in Chapter Two, pop music has the capacity to shape people’s lives. We become heavily invested in the artists and music we listen to and grow to love, and they have the capacity to shape how we think about the world (Lazar, 2007). This thesis is concerned with new expressions of feminism in pop music and, specifically, how these expressions are perceived by an audience of young women: how do young women make sense of self-identified feminist artists and the music videos produced by those artists? The research explores the following research questions: • To what extent are young women shaped by pop artists’ engagement with feminism and depictions of gendered concerns?1 • How do popular feminist artists contribute to young women’s understandings of feminism and empowerment? • How do popular feminist artists contribute to young women’s subjectivities as women? 1 A distinction is made throughout the thesis between ‘feminism’ and ‘gendered concerns’ in recognition that not all artists identify as feminist nor are they necessarily viewed as such by participants. Indeed, the goal of this project is to bring nuance to young women’s understanding of pop music as feminist or not. 4 Introducing the field: The politics of feminism and popular culture This research brings together two fields: the politics of popular culture, and feminism. Many young cisgender heterosexual women do not align themselves with feminist ideals, shying away from using or identifying with the term feminism (Scharff, 2016; McRobbie, 2009). This is despite high levels of engagement with feminist issues and politics (Zucker, 2004). For example, a poll of more than 4000 women in the United Kingdom (U.K.) found that fewer than one-fifth identified as feminist, despite 80 percent of all participants agreeing that sexism is still an issue, and that women and men should achieve equality (Fawcett Society, 2016). Historically, young women often distanced themselves from feminism due to the “overwhelmingly negative” (Zucker, 2004, p. 425) portrayal of feminists in the media. Not only were feminists presented as “extreme”, there was also a false conflation of feminism with lesbians, thus producing a “perceived threat to heterosexuality” (Zucker, 2004, p. 425). This reluctance is still prevalent today. Research points to several reasons why people might not identify as feminist, in what some theorists term feminism’s fourth wave (Curtis, 2018). First, many prominent forms of contemporary feminism have become aligned with white, straight, middle- class women and, as such, fail to speak to working class women and/or women of colour (Gen Forward, 2018). Arguably, the perceived exclusionary nature of some strands of feminism leads to reticence about identifying with the term and the movement. Negative stereotypes of feminists also lead young women to disassociate with the term. Curtis (2018) argues that feminists are commonly represented as rejecting ‘feminine’ qualities by not wearing make-up, not shaving their legs and underarms, and hating men. These sentiments echo findings by Scharff (2016) who interviewed 40 young women in Germany and Britain about feminism and found that feminists were understood to be “unfeminine, man-hating and lesbian women” (p. 69). Scharff’s participants expressed fear that if they identified as feminist, they would also be viewed in this way. But, as Judith Butler (1992) argues, even in the very moment that feminism is being rejected, discourses of gender and sexuality are being negotiated, which can bring about societal change. The tension between engagement and disengagement in feminist politics is central to this thesis. Despite these common criticisms of feminism from young women, the feminist movement has received a resurgence of interest since the #MeToo movement (Sayej, 2017). The hashtag went viral in 2017 when actor Alyssa Milano urged her Twitter followers to reply ‘me too’ if they had also been sexually assaulted. #MeToo quickly became a global hashtag movement drawing attention to violence against women, changing the narrative of victim-blaming and criminalising perpetrators of gender- based violence (Hebert, 2018; Zacharek et al., 2017). In the first 24 hours alone, the 5 hashtag was tweeted more than 500,000 times and posted on Facebook by more than 4.7 million people, including numerous celebrities (Hebert, 2018). The movement highlighted the particularly fraught sexist industries of film, television and music as high-profile and powerful men, including Harvey Weinstein, were criminalised for sexual harassment (BBC, 2020). Issues of gender-based violence, sexual assault and harassment, and sex-based discrimination could no longer be ignored. One of the reasons for the groundswell of attention #MeToo received was its use of social media, including Facebook and Twitter. New digital spaces (and hashtag feminism) have a long reach, making feminist issues more accessible to a broader audience of (young) women. It is in the context of feminism’s engagement with digital and social media platforms, alongside the celebrity culture that lends weight to the movement, that this research takes place. Understanding popular culture is important for understanding society, because “culture is the constant process of producing meanings of and from our social experience, and such meanings necessarily produce a social identity for the people involved” (Fiske, 2006, p. 118). Pop artists and their music are an important subset of popular culture. An appreciation of a particular genre of music can distinguish us from others and provide a contextual category for consumers to “structure their tastes, preferences, and identities” (Askin & Mauskapf, 2018, p. 4: see also Bourdieu, 1993). But pop music can also serve a political agenda, offering a powerful commentary on the “connection between music, society and power” (Winters, 2016, p. 112). Numerous contemporary pop music artists, including Beyoncé, Halsey and Little Mix, for example, aim to advance a feminist cause through their music, placing feminism at the centre of their artist brand by identifying as feminist in live performances, music videos and on social media. This embrace of feminism amongst pop musicians is part of a broader “popular feminist appropriation” (McRobbie, 2008, p. 533) in television, magazines and consumer culture. Some have argued that pop music celebrities have simply harnessed, or indeed leveraged, feminism in response to its increasing popularity. Hamad and Taylor (2015), for example, argue that pop artists do not advance a feminist cause, but instead simply offer a “glib celebrity appropriation of the term” (p. 124). Despite such criticisms, the intersection of feminism and popular culture has undoubtedly contributed to its broadening appeal, producing a more palatable form of feminism (see Benedictis et al., 2019). Indeed, this heightened accessibility has meant that people’s voices can be shared, listened to and celebrated in new and widespread ways. This trend raises questions as to how young women make sense of feminism in the context of the pop music they are exposed to, especially given that the “audience plays an active role in accepting, negotiating, or opposing the 6 intended/dominant meanings of cultural products, such as artists, songs, and videos” (Lieb, 2018, p. 24). The impact of feminism’s heightened accessibility is important to explore in relation to young women. Although some artists might intend to portray a feminist message of empowerment, women’s autonomy over their bodies, and positive messages of sexuality, it is less clear how these messages are received and embraced. As discussed above, young women often eschew the label ‘feminist’, the term giving rise to “negative, affect-laden” responses (Scharff, 2016, p.1). This presents a paradox: at the same time as feminist ideas have become more visible in young women’s everyday worlds, there is reluctance to embrace the label ‘feminist’. This research seeks to address the resulting tension and critically examine the complexity of the contemporary feminist movement as young women grapple with its meaning. To explore these questions, I carried out qualitative research with six Auckland-based women aged between 19 and 26, examining their negotiation of feminism, gender and pop music. Participants created reflexive music portfolios and took part in two focus groups to reflect on the subjective meanings they held about the music that they identified as feminist in orientation or to have engaged in gendered concerns. The research methodology is discussed in detail in Chapter Three. Roadmap of the thesis This introductory chapter has sought to outline the genesis of the project, including my positionality as a young woman carrying out research in this field. It has outlined the broad aims of the research and located these aims within feminism and popular culture, with a particular emphasis on pop music. The following chapter (Chapter Two) offers a review of the scholarship and examines these fields more closely. It begins with an historical review of feminism, before turning to the feminist literature, centring on three key themes: patriarchy and the oppression of women; objectification and sexualisation of women; and empowerment. The second part of the chapter critically examines the role of popular culture with a particular focus on pop music and its relationship with gender, feminism and young women. Chapter Three outlines the methodology and methods employed in this research. The chapter is divided into two parts. The first discusses the feminist methodological approach adopted in the study, while the second describes how the research was carried out. Two distinct methods, a participant-created ‘music portfolio’, and a series of focus groups, are outlined, each designed to reveal how participants make meaning from the pop music they are exposed to and, more specifically, how they connect with feminism and concerns about gender and gender equality as they are performed in contemporary pop music. The chapter describes how various sources 7 of data were analysed before concluding with a discussion of the ethical challenges that were negotiated throughout the project. Chapters Four and Five comprise the findings chapters. Chapter Four specifically explores participants’ understandings of contemporary feminism vis à vis the music industry. The chapter argues that participants’ perceptions of feminism are complex and often result in ambivalent subject positions. Their views of empowerment are especially nuanced. While empowerment is a primary way that feminism materialises for participants, it was largely experienced as an internal and affective, emotionally laden response to the music videos we watched rather than an external, politically oriented stance capable of creating social change. Chapter Five argues that young women rely on dichotomous constructions of gender, especially when trying to make sense of the performance of women’s bodies in pop music videos. Two dichotomies were constructed by participants. First, participants constructed a moral code underpinned by their perception of what they think of as (unacceptably) sexual and (acceptably) sensual performances, revealing their ambivalence about performers being overtly sexual. A second dichotomy reveals a tension between vulnerability and aggression, characteristics that have long been aligned with femininity and masculinity, respectively. While ‘vulnerable’ performances were deemed acceptable expressions of femininity and feminism, ‘aggressive’ performances were not. Again, these ideas were underpinned by a moral code that reflected normative and binary constructions of gender. Chapter Six provides concluding comments to the research. The chapter begins by briefly summarising the project and highlighting its key contributions to feminist scholarship before homing in on the ambivalent subjectivities revealed in this research. I begin with my own ambivalent subject position as a young feminist researcher, before turning to participants’ subjectivity as they make sense of feminism in a contemporary context. The chapter finishes by considering the ambivalent future of feminism as a result of this research. 8 Chapter 2: “Come on little lady, give us a smile” - Mapping the terrain of feminism and popular culture Introduction Since the rise of the #MeToo movement in 2017, women are increasingly protesting gender-based injustices and speaking out about gendered inequalities; feminism is on the rise. Debate and analysis of feminist and gender issues appears to have more media coverage than ever before, and feminist texts such as Clementine Ford’s (2016) ‘Fight Like a Girl’ and Roxanne Gay’s (2014a) ‘Bad Feminist’ have found popular success. Texts such as these have helped to develop new language for discussing feminist issues, calling out sexism and gender-based discrimination, and have introduced feminism to a broader young audience. Celebrity culture has also played an important role in the rise of contemporary feminism with many pop artists embracing feminist discourse in their song lyrics, feminist representation in their music videos and identifying as feminist in public interviews. The intersection of feminism and popular culture is certainly not new (see, for example, Hollows & Moseley, 2005). Girl bands such as the Spice Girls, and individual artists such as Helen Reddy in the 1970s, and Cyndi Lauper and Madonna in the 1980s and 1990s, have all advanced a woman-centred, if not feminist, message through their music. But the current feminist social milieu creates new articulations of feminism through digital and social media, which has amplified the reach and celebrity of popular artists. The purpose of this chapter is to bring together two fields: feminist scholarship and popular culture studies. The chapter begins with an historical account of feminism to better understand the relevance of feminism in a contemporary context, including the points of commonality with and departure from earlier articulations of feminism. Three key feminist issues are discussed: patriarchy and oppression; sexualisation and objectification of women; and notions of empowerment. The chapter then explores music as a form of popular culture with a particular focus on the intersection of music and feminism. Here, I offer critical commentary on common representations of women in the industry and raise questions about the capacity of pop music to 9 embrace and advance a feminist agenda. I also respond to a gap in the current scholarship by considering how feminist popular culture shapes young women’s understandings of feminism. Relevance of feminism in contemporary society To aid understanding of the relevance of feminism in the contemporary context, it is useful to consider its historical development. It has been argued that there are four distinct waves of feminism (Wrye, 2009), which can be a helpful way to categorise discrete historical feminist moments as well as understand the “relationships and competing tensions between different feminist ideologies” (Evans, 2016, p. 412). It should be noted, however, that some scholars are less enamoured with the wave metaphor, arguing that it falsely suggests that each wave represents a discrete period of time (Rivers, 2017; Offen, 2000). These critics argue that the metaphor fails to capture overlapping feminist themes that have emerged across time and reinforces the idea that little feminist work took place between those waves (Offen, 2000). Recognising this critique, I add nuance to the broad picture I paint of the ‘waves’ of feminism by then offering a thematic account of these periods, moving beyond temporal distinctions to better capture the way these themes sometimes lay dormant and sometimes erupt at different moments (Offen, 2000). Undoubtedly, feminism is a contentious movement with a complex history. “A king is always a king—and a woman always a woman: his authority and her sex, ever stand between them and rational converse” (Wollstonecraft, 1792). So wrote Mary Wollstonecraft in 1792, drawing critical attention to the assumed natural authority and superiority of men over women. However, the first wave of feminism did not emerge until the 19th century, largely through the suffragette movement that campaigned for women’s right to vote (Wrye, 2009). But Wollstonecraft’s writing on the importance of women’s right to be educated, able to support herself financially, and be viewed as fully human, was influential in shaping the rise of this first wave. Demands for women’s economic autonomy was certainly a feature, arising from the dependence of middle-class women on their male partners (or other male family members). Another concern, although of less prominence, was access to higher education for women and a focus on familial issues, such as the “legal position of married women [and] marital violence” (Hannam, 2012, p. 19). These issues also played out in the local context with Kate Shephard and Meri Mangakāhia, among others, campaigning for women's suffrage in New Zealand (Coleman, 2020). Betty Friedman’s ground-breaking book, ‘The Feminine Mystique’ (1963) is widely credited with initiating second-wave feminism. Her work sheds light on suburban domestic life, and the false idea that women’s role in society is to serve men as 10 (house)wives and mothers. The central catchcry of second wave feminism, ‘the personal is political’ (Millett, 1970), articulated the position that personal experiences, including what happens within the private sphere of the home, is always a reflection of larger social and political structures. There was increased emphasis on family life at this time (distribution of labour, domestic violence, marital rape and reproductive rights, for example) alongside questioning the limited value placed on women and women’s role in society. Women were valued primarily for their reproductive and mothering roles, roles that made women reliant on the men they loved (Firestone, 1970) and rendered them “eunuchs”, devoid of personal or political power (Greer, 1971, book title). As de Beauvoir wrote in her 1949 seminal text ‘The Second Sex’ (1974), a “woman has ovaries, a uterus; these peculiarities imprison her in her subjectivity, circumscribe her within the limits of her own nature” (p. xvii). Second wave feminists’ critique of the way society was organised led to a “major restructuring of institutions worldwide” (Nicholson, 1997, p. 1), including the workplace and the family, in order to challenge gender discrimination and oppression. So far, I have been using the word gender unproblematically, but it was during this period in feminism’s history that an important distinction was made between sex as biology and gender as a position of the mind (Money, 1955). In other words, it was assumed that sex was biologically determined while gender was self-ascribed and could therefore differ from sex at birth (Stoller, 1968; see also Fausto-Sterling, 2000). This work reflects a gender binary in which two discrete categories of sex - female and male - are assumed to exist. This was and is problematic in that first, it assumes that every individual “clearly, easily, and permanently” (Lips, 2019, p. 16) fits into one or other pole of the binary, and second, that the binary can readily be mapped onto discrete social constructions of femininity and masculinity thus failing to account for the “fluidity and multiplicity” of gender (Joel et al, 2014, p. 291). One of the primary ways that we are socialised into gender and gender roles is through the performance of gender in everyday life – how we ‘do’ gender (West & Zimmerman, 1987) in ways the reflect “culturally mediated expectations and roles associated with masculinity and femininity” (Lips, 2019, p. 2). The sex/gender distinction has been critiqued further, with Judith Butler (1990), for example, arguing that both sex and gender are performative in so far as one gives rise to the other. Indeed, Butler (1988) argues that gender is “constituted through time … through a stylized repetition of acts”: the “mundane way in which bodily gestures, movements, and enactments of various kinds constitute the illusion of an abiding gendered self” (p. 519, my emphasis). As Lips (2019) argues, sex and gender are never truly distinct but are “intertwined” (p. 2). These challenges result in new terms for conceptualising gender in ways that better account for a gender spectrum such as “genderfluid, 11 gender nonconforming, gender-queer, agender, bi-gender, and pangender” (Lips, 2019, p. 15). These debates were important to third wave feminism, which took place in the 1980s and 1990s and fought for women to ‘have it all’— a career, sexual freedom and motherhood (Wrye, 2009). It responded to an ever-changing “economic, political and cultural” (Budgeon, 2011, p. 279) landscape that impacted gendered subjectivities, roles and norms, including the rejection of “the category of women”, debates initiated by feminists of colour that shattered the idea of a shared women's experience or identity (Snyder, 2008, p. 183; see also Butler, 1990). The body became a key theme of third wave feminism, with attention paid to women’s sexuality and desire, including the call that women should use “our tits and hips and lips [as] power tools” (Karp & Stoller, 1999, p. 7; see also Mann & Huffman, 2005; Coleman, 2009), and a site for identity expression. While some rallied around women’s sexuality, feminist punk bands emerged with the ‘Riot Grrrl’ movement (Monem, 2007), which saw women performing in ways that challenged traditional gender stereotypes (Wrye, 2009; Wald & Gottlieb, 1994; see also Nguyen, 2012 for a postcolonial analysis of the movement). It was during the third wave of feminism that “theories of postcoloniality, queer sexuality, transgenderism and transsexuality, and disability activism” became part of feminist discourse (Wrye, 2009, p. 185), as well as increased awareness of the ways marginalised categories of difference intersect to amplify oppression (Crenshaw, 1991). The movement, however, remained largely white and faced considerable critique for its exclusion of women of colour (hooks, 1984). Indeed, first, second and third waves of feminism were all critiqued for being exclusionary. First and second waves of feminism, in particular, were charged with essentialising women’s experiences (hooks, 1984; Davies, 2018) and privileging the lived realities and interests of “white, middle class, heterosexual women” (Gamble, 2001, pp. 32-33; see also Linder, 2011; Thompson, 2001; Hannam, 2012). At the end of the nineteenth century, some women advocated against women of colour having access to the ballot box in order for white women to receive the right to vote (Allen & Allen, 1974; Newman, 1999), whilst others used racially based arguments of eugenics to minimise the number of women of colour who could reproduce (Roberts, 1998; Silliman et al., 2004). And in the 1970s, black feminist Audre Lorde (1979) was one of many who called out the privileging of white women’s experiences at the time (see also hooks, 1984; Breines, 2002), charging radical feminist Mary Daly with essentialising women’s experience and positioning women of colour as ‘Other’ in her influential book ‘Gyn/Ecology’ (Daly, 1978). This is not to say that women of colour didn’t mobilise to politically advance their gender, class and race-based rights. However, the successes of women of colour during this time have often been disregarded or minimised in the telling of feminist history, denying racism in the 12 feminist movement and therefore laying a “foundation for continued exclusion in mainstream feminism” (Linder, 2011, p. 5), including the exclusion of sexual minorities (Kulick, 2008). Although third wave feminism intended to create a “positively difference-inclusive project” (Davies, 2018, p. 46), it also demonstrated numerous exclusionary practices. Women of colour were expected to speak to only one identity, their gender, and thus separate their racial identity from their gendered identity. This expectation failed to account for the ways in which race, class and gender intersect to compound experiences of discrimination and oppression (see Crenshaw, 1991 for a discussion of intersectionality; see also Hurtado, 1989) and placed the burden of responsibility on women of colour to ensure appropriate representation that was often deemed tokenistic. Women of colour were expected to be the voice of the collective, ignoring the multiplicity of human experience and homogenising marginalised experience, leading to further marginalisation of women of colour (McDonald, 2003; Kim, 2001; Linder, 2011). At the centre of this critique is a failure of the feminist movement to appropriately interrogate power and privilege, both within society and the movement itself, leading to a long history of “exclusion and isolation” (Linder, 2011, p. 6). Contemporary feminism, sometimes described as fourth wave feminism, emerged in the 21st century (Wyre, 2009). There is considerable disagreement on whether the current climate does in fact represent a different feminist epoch (Shiva & Kharazmi, 2019), given shared features with earlier waves such as autonomy/choice and agency (Rivers, 2017). The current feminist period is set apart, however, for several reasons. First, female empowerment and the assertion that women should be able to make their own choices “outside the constraints of an overtly patriarchal society” (Rivers, 2017, p. 25) has emerged as a central tenet of feminism, materialising as a woman’s choice to determine how she should look, who she can love, including who she can sleep with, and how she makes her money. Second, fourth wave feminism leverages new digital spaces to extend its reach to new audiences, normalising, disseminating, and making feminist discourse more accessible (Hebert, 2018; Baer, 2016; Looft, 2017). “Social media-based feminist activism” (Rivers, 2017, p, 4), for example, gave rise to hashtag feminism and the global #MeToo movement, centring issues of gender-based (sexual) violence and demanding a seismic shift in the treatment of women and negotiations of consent (see Friedman & Valenti, 2008). The sex positivity movement has also provided new articulations of women’s desire and sexuality (Ford, 2016) as well as new negotiations of consent (Friedman & Valenti, 2008). This movement seeks to address and correct damaging and shaming practices towards women and girls that position them as ‘less-than’. As pointed out by Adichie (2019): 13 We make [girls] feel as though by being born female they're already guilty of something. And so, girls grow up to be women who cannot see they have desire. They grow up to be women who silence themselves. They grow up to be women who cannot say what they truly think, and they grow up -- and this is the worst thing we did to girls -- they grow up to be women who have turned pretence into an art form. (n.p.) Inclusive spaces that better account for queer and trans communities, as well as celebrating body diversity (different body shapes, sizes, and abilities, for example) (Sollee, 2015) is the third feature of fourth wave feminism. This has given rise to the fat acceptance movement (Friedman et., 2019) and the ‘body-positivity’ movement, which advocates the acceptance of all bodies regardless of physical ability, size, gender, race, or appearance (Taylor, 2018). Popular culture has manifested as a key platform for the contemporary feminist agenda (Farris & Rottenberg, 2017). Celebrities have carved out a space in feminist discourse as music ‘megastars’ such as Beyoncé, Little Mix and Miley Cyrus incorporate feminist issues into their music and use their public platforms to advance feminist issues. Popular television series tackle feminist issues directly such as ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, and the film ‘Suffragette’. In the context of populist politics, the feminist agenda has also become a political tool with which many liberal politicians seek to align themselves; for example, former U.S. President, Barack Obama, declared himself feminist in a 2016 speech when he stated: “this is an extraordinary time to be a woman … And I say that not just as President but also as a feminist” (Obama, 2016, n.p.). Popular feminist text also has considerable weight in contemporary feminism. “Media literate” feminist, Roxanne Gay (2014a, p. 79) stresses the importance of popular culture for understanding gender and feminism. In reflecting on the connection between the depiction of female characters in television and women in real life, Gay (2014a) points out that women are always “call[ed] upon to perform their gender, whether through how they present themselves and their sexuality, how they behave, and how they conform (or don’t) to society’s expectations for women” (p. 81; see also Butler, 1990). Exclusionary politics remain, however, in this contemporary feminist moment. Although the (relative) accessibility of online digital spaces makes the movement largely inclusive, as well as its popularisation through celebrity platform, it has faced considerable critique for its elite and individualist orientation (Rivers, 2017; hooks, 2010). By promoting the “achievements” and “lifestyles” of successful women, the movement perpetuates narrow and normative constructions of womanhood, promoting the idea that women must adhere to, or at least aspire to, an “individualized, neoliberal, and capitalist vision of ‘success’” (Rivers, 2017, p. 25). 14 Feminism and neoliberal capitalism is an uneasy marriage, elevating “consumption as a strategy” to cure gendered social issues (Tasker & Negra, 2007, p. 2). This discourse feeds into a “personal responsibility” narrative of feminism (Rivers, 2017, p. 25) which dilutes the collective and activist nature of feminism and limits its transformative capacity, resulting in a “toothless” deradicalised feminism (Crispin, 2017b, n.p.). Indeed, pop artists as feminist icons can be viewed as problematic and hindering advances towards gender equality because the male-dominated music industry thrives on and leverages a “youthful and highly sexualized image of femininity” (Rivers, 2017, p. 25). Contemporary expressions of feminism raise questions, including whether feminism is even necessary in the contemporary context. Postfeminism advances the idea that feminism is no longer necessary (Banet-Weiser et al., 2019; McRobbie, 2007) because the larger structural goals of equality have (arguably) already been achieved. This proposition leads to a logical, but I would argue, specious conclusion that if inequalities do exist still, they are not due to unequal gendered relations, but “natural differences and/or women’s own choices” (Banet-Weiser et el., 2019, p. 5); women must simply overcome what once held them back – “passivity, silence, physical weakness, sexual objectification [and] poor body image” (James, 2017, p. 29; see also Whitefield-Madrano, 2016). Postfeminism is less concerned with overcoming the structures that produce inequalities for women, and more concerned with an individualised, neoliberal agenda that places the work of equality in women’s hands. But the term postfeminism is far from clear-cut. Hall and Rodriguez (2003) identified four themes that they argue gave rise to the postfeminist period since its emergence in the 1980s and 1990s. First, there was decreased public support for feminism during these decades; second, “Antifeminist” discourse (p. 879) became increasingly common; third, feminism was thought to have lost its relevance as young women felt the goals of feminism had been achieved, at the same time as older feminists felt they had yet to see equality; and fourth, a “no, but” rhetoric emerged whereby young women in particular, disassociated from the feminist label whilst still supporting broadly feminist goals, such as gender inequality and reproductive rights. There is some disagreement, however, about what postfeminism is (Gill, 2007a), whether we are in a postfeminist era (Gill, 2016), and whether it is an “historical period in feminist thought and action as well as an epistemological break or backlash against certain feminist ideas and politics” (Riley, et al, 2017, p. 2). Rosalind Gill (2007a) put forward a conceptualisation of postfeminism that has proved fruitful. She suggested that postfeminism is a sensibility that is: 15 made up of a number of interrelated themes. These include the notion that femininity is a bodily property; the shift from objectification to subjectification; an emphasis upon self-surveillance, monitoring in self- discipline; a focus on individualism, choice and empowerment; the dominance of a makeover paradigm; and a resurgence of ideas about natural sexual difference. (p. 147; see also Gill, 2007b) Riley et al. (2017) describe a postfeminist sensibility as a “noncoherent set of ideas about femininity, embodiment and empowerment” (Riley et al., 2017, p. 1), necessarily noncoherent to reflect the shift away from “a fixed ideology and towards a more fluid, less coherent, affective set of ideas about feminism” (p. 3). Rather than being critical of the complexity and contradiction that a postfeminist sensibility raises, Riley et al. (2017) argue that these features enable its applicability to a range of disciplines that is useful for analysing contradictory subjectivities. That said, the authors have further interrogated Gill’s framework, considering digital transformations and new technologies that have generated new ways of thinking about feminism, as well as updating some of Gill’s conceptualisations for the contemporary context. For example, Riley et al. (2017) reframe women’s self- sexualisation as an agentic practice; consider the ways that bodily modification is “psychologised” (p. 6), paying attention to the role of the mind in shaping the way the body is worked on; reconsider the make-over paradigm as potentially celebratory, empowering and liberating; and consider the role of consumption practices in reinvigorating traditional femininities. A postfeminist sensibility produces feminine subject positions that encourages women to work on themselves, in order to be rewarded and “rendered intelligible” through their alignment with the norms of “ideal femininity” (Riley et al., 2017, p. 3). The authors also draw attention to new feminist activist practices, as well as highlighting the importance of intersectional and transnational understandings of postfeminism, points that they argue are under-developed in Gills’ original treatise. Consideration of these subjectivities is important to ensure the ongoing relevance and capacity of postfeminism for illuminating contemporary feminism in a diversity of contexts. Popular culture occupies an ambivalent space in postfeminism. While postfeminism posits that feminism is no longer necessary, women are constructed as “self-made, savvy, empowered consumers” (Riley et al., 2017, p. 3), using ‘girl power’ rhetoric to draw attention to the way that women have taken back control of their bodies and constructed new expressions of femininity. In their discussion of postfeminism, Riley et al. (2019a), for example, discuss the impact of 1990s girl pop band, the ‘Spice Girls’, who exemplified a “self-assured and self-determined femininity – one that was girly and assertive” (p. 2), simultaneously claiming a feminine sexuality at the same time as asserting what they ‘really really want’. Such portrayals were markedly different 16 from earlier iterations of feminist discourse: “the globe seemed transformed with women unprecedentedly sexually agentic, confident and publicly active” (Riley, 2019a, p. 2). But these shifts in feminist discourse are underpinned by capitalism with notions of ‘girlhood’, girl power and empowerment being used to sell goods to young girls and women (McRobbie, 2008). Businesses peddle the belief that “freedom [for women] has now been won [so the] politics of feminist struggles are no longer needed” as gender equality has been attained (McRobbie, 2008, p. 533). Key themes in contemporary feminism This section examines three key themes that emerge within and across these various waves of feminism: patriarchy and oppression; sexualisation and objectification of women; and empowerment. ‘Grab ‘em by the patriarchy’: Patriarchy and the oppression of women Challenging the patriarchal system that oppresses women has been and still is a key feminist goal. The patriarchy perpetuates the oppression of women, feeding into a system of male supremacy and domination (Thompson, 2001). bell hooks (2010), an influential black feminist, defines patriarchy as a: political-social system that insists that males are inherently dominating, superior to everything and everyone deemed weak, especially females, and endowed with the right to dominate and rule over the weak and to maintain that dominance through various forms of psychological terrorism and violence. (p. 1) Ultimately, patriarchy speaks to the overriding masculine structure that oppresses women and gender minorities. Feminist theorist Adrienne Rich pays particular focus on women’s bodies as a site of patriarchy’s control; “The woman's body is the terrain on which patriarchy is erected” (Rich, 1976, p. 55). Although feminism has not always explicitly focused on combatting patriarchy and the structures that perpetuate the oppression of women, earlier waves attempted to validate women’s place in society by highlighting their reproductive roles as well as their (non-paid) domestic labour (de Beauvoir, 1974), thus stressing their productive contribution to society. Radical feminists of the 1960s and 1970s saw male supremacy as a key symptom of patriarchy and a “primary form of social domination” over women (Thompson, 2001, p. 4). However, patriarchy has sometimes been seen as a war cry of out-dated, bitter and angry feminists who want to take men down (see Benn, 2013), associated with “an iron-spined feminist of the old school, or the kind of ossified leftist who complained bitterly about the evils of capitalism” (Higgins, 2018, n.p.). While some, 17 such as Higgins (2018) still critique the term as “oversimplifications of a more complex reality” (n.p.), the rise of the #MeToo movement has helped the catch cry of patriarchy re-emerge in contemporary feminism. The language of patriarchy has made a resurgence in contemporary feminism; it has been re-harnessed, re-politicised and re-popularised. Patriarchy provides a language for articulating the individual, social and structural connections between seemingly disparate issues including the gendered division of labour and the gendered wage gap, domestic violence and a rape culture that is perpetuated by the objectification and sexualisation of women. It reveals an: invisible mechanism that connects a host of seemingly isolated and disparate events, intertwining the experience of women of vastly different backgrounds, race and culture, and ranging in force from the trivial and personal to the serious and geopolitical. (Higgins, 2018. n.p.) Patriarchy is everywhere. The machinations of patriarchy are embedded within and function through the law and the state (Brown, 1992), through the family (Macé, 2018) and through the paid and unpaid labour market (Davies et al., 2017). But it also operates in not so obvious ways. Patriarchy is perpetuated and normalised through numerous cultural pillars of society, such as the education system (Marshall et al., 2017), religion (Giorgi & Palmisano, 2020), literature (Fawole, 2018) and popular culture (Banet-Weiser, 2018; Wood, 2019). Patriarchy also possesses shapeshifter qualities, constantly recreating its meaning and the ways in which it manifests, so the social forces behind it shift across time and in different cultural contexts. Patriarchy is normalised and naturalised, such that it is at once hyper-visible and yet erased from view. It is a social structure that is almost impossible to reject; it is too easy to become complicit and perpetuate its authority. Only the lucky few thrive in a patriarchal society. Indeed, as hooks (2010) asserted, patriarchy is good for no-one. But while a patriarchal system might not be good for men or women, it is women as a group who remain oppressed, marginalised, excluded and discriminated against. One of the primary vehicles of women’s oppression is the sexualisation and objectification of women. Sexualisation and objectification: Violence, harassment and body autonomy The sexualisation and objectification of women is a key feature of patriarchy and an important feminist issue (Gill, 2008). The sexual objectification of women refers to “women’s bodies [being] treated as objects for the sexual pleasure of men” (Smolak & Murnen, 2011, p. 53) and can be seen in film, television and music, as well as clothing for young women (Smolak & Murnen, 2011; Levin & Kilbourne, 2008). The 18 ubiquity of material depicting the sexualisation of women makes it difficult to ignore, especially as images become more and more overt in their objectification, such as depictions of rape, sexual harassment and domestic violence (Moraes et al., 2020). Objectification, more specifically, refers to: the practice of perceiving a person as an object that solely exists to appeal to the viewer's sexual desires. This is dehumanizing because a person is looked at as an object instead of a complex human being. Sexual objectification creates a relationship based upon power. The viewer is fully human. The person who is objectified is seen by the viewer as a something, not a someone, whose only purpose is pleasing the viewer. The position of the one objectified has no power. Usually, a man is thought to be the objectifier, and a woman is seen as the object. (Butts, 2019, n.p., my emphasis) The sexualisation and objectification of women go hand in hand (Smolak & Murnen, 2011) and are so entrenched they have become social norms (Smolak & Murnen, 2011). They work to perpetuate the idea that women’s value is solely based on physical and sexual appearance (Liss et al., 2011; Barnett et al., 2018; Fredrickson & Roberts, 1997; Moradi & Huang, 2008) and they normalise hierarchical gendered relations in which men have social control over women and their sexuality (Gill & Orgad, 2018). Drawing attention to how sexualisation and objectification works as the result of patriarchal oppression and male dominance (Gill, 2008; Mercurio & Landry, 2008) is an important feature of contemporary feminism, especially in light of the #MeToo movement (Gill & Orgad, 2018). Sexualising and objectifying practices can lead to women conforming to sexualised expectations, with women (wittingly or unwittingly) participating in their own self- sexualisation and self-objectification (Ramsey & Horan, 2018; Smolak & Murnen, 2011; Fredrickson & Roberts, 1997). Self-objectification occurs when people “see themselves from a third person perspective, value their bodies primarily for how they look, and present themselves in a sexualised manner as objects to be used” (Ramsey & Horan, 2018, p. 85). It facilitates the idea that women’s engagement in their own sexualisation has promises and benefits: first, that they will appeal more to men, which can lead to “financial stability and personal safety” (Smolak & Murnen, 2011, p. 54); and second, that it will lead to more success in all areas of life. Therefore, there are rewards for sexualisation, and relatedly, fewer rewards for women who are not complicit in their own sexualisation. Self-sexualisation is complicated. Contemporary feminist discourse embraces ideas of female autonomy and sexuality (Wrye, 2009). In support of this view, many ‘self- sexualisers’ report that they value or enjoy being sexualised because it affirms their 19 self-worth (Choi & DeLong, 2019). But it is important to note, of course, that this occurs “only if their appearance conforms to narrowly defined standards” (Choi & DeLong, 2019, p. 1356), suggesting that it is possible that this positive self-view could arise from a “sense of false empowerment” (Choi & DeLong, 2019, p. 1356; see also Liss et al., 2011). The sense of power attained still feels real, however; while some women might participate in their own sexualisation, they understand it as a source of power that flips the script on men who assume the upper hand. Haug (1987) argues that girls and young women engage in “body projects” in order to present themselves in sexualised ways, including shaving, getting one’s hair done, or clothing practices. These practices reveal that “women are not only objects of male desire: they themselves play a part in their creation as such” (Haug, 1987, p. 131). However, I suggest that Haug misses the (feminist) point. It might be true that young women engage in practices to appear more sexual, and possibly sexually available, but these practices are themselves part of a patriarchal system that socialises girls and young women into self-sexualisation. Importantly, what Haug fails to account for is the profound negative impact that objectification and sexualisation — including that which is self-directed — can have on people, resulting in “shame, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, self-harm, sexual dysfunction, reduced sexual agency, and increased sexual victimisation” (Ramsey & Horan, 2018, p. 86; see also Moradi & Huang, 2008). Feminists, such as Benn (2013), argue that the complicity of women in their own sexualisation and potential exploitation contributes to the idea that girls’ and women’s primary role and goal is to be a sex object for the gratification of men, as well as perpetuating a patriarchal system. The tension between these two positions of women’s self-sexualisation as empowering or perpetuating the patriarchal system can lead to a ‘calling out’ of those who self-sexualise, especially online. Benn (2013) argues that online platforms and social media are not the best site for raising and responding to feminist issues because the kinds of response offered often fails to examine the patriarchal “structural inequality” (p. 225) that produces sexualisation and oppression in the first instance. Specifically, Benn warns that fourth wave feminism must not “sideline the intractable problem of structural inequality as a dreary or irrelevant struggle of the past or the concern only of the disappointed older woman” (p. 225). Instead, Benn argues that we should harness fourth wave feminism’s ability to reignite these ‘age- old’ feminist issues and create new alliances that make feminism more accessible to others, including older, working-class and trans women. This, in turn, could lead to the movement’s capacity to tackle a wider range of issues due to the greater diversity of voices and representation. These contemporary debates about women’s bodily autonomy, and the representation of women’s bodies, including how they are represented in popular culture, are central to this thesis, raising questions about heteronormative constructions of femininity and the performance of the female 20 body. While popular discourse suggests women are free to wear what they like, do what they like and use their bodies as they please, many women also experience extreme backlash when they do. An example of this is slut shaming, the “act of humiliating a woman based on presumed sexual behaviour and appearance, regardless of whether or not she is sexually active” (Papp et al., 2017, p. 240). While men can experience slut shaming, it is primarily an insult directed toward women and girls as a form of “social and sexual control” (p. 241); being called a ‘slut’ implies the “target lacks value and morality” (p. 240). Slut-shaming remains a key symptom of a patriarchal society of sexualisation and objectification. ‘My body, my choice’ has long been a catchcry of the feminist movement, and a women’s right to body autonomy and choice is central to these debates (Walter, 2008). It is a woman’s right to determine clothing she wants to wear, her sexual practices, her reproductive rights, including the right to legal and safe abortion (Wrye, 2009), and for her body not to be treated as a sex object. These debates are particularly relevant to the pop music industry and will be explored in Chapters Four and Five. Empowerment Empowerment is another theme that is important to consider in the context of this thesis, given it is often described as a feature of contemporary and celebrity feminism. There are two competing (but arguably interconnected) ideas, however, about the meaning of empowerment, which has shifted over time (Rowland, 1997): empowerment as a process of individual change, and empowerment as a process of collective radical social change (Segal et al., 1995). Empowerment as individual change refers to an internal transformation resulting from improved self-esteem or mental health, often as a consequence of individualised self-help work (Peterson et al., 2008). This way of thinking about empowerment is problematic, however, in that it places responsibility for self-improvement on the individual: “The message is clear: If you want to feel empowered, you need to be improved” (Whippman, 2016, n.p.). Furthermore, an individualised construction of empowerment, amplifies the idea that women must be enhanced, perpetuating an industry which constructs impossible beauty standards for women. Grounding ideas of empowerment in therapeutic discourse has resulted in a ‘wellness industry’ that exploits individualised understandings of empowerment. ‘Wellness influencers’, such as Simone Anderson, for example promote health and lifestyle journeys (without the advice of healthcare professionals, dieticians, or nutritionists) through their social media-based platforms. Their sites are branded as pathways to empowerment and “couched in the language of self-celebration [… 21 which] can easily morph into a nasty strain of victim blaming” (Whippman, 2016, n.p.). Further, they promote a “continuous scrutiny and work on the self and body to meet cultural ideals and the needs of neoliberal economies, while understanding this work to be a personal choice” (Riley et al., 2019a, p. 138). Thus, they draw heavily on individualising discourses, constructing the individual as a problem to be fixed and failing to account for the structural issues that produce those practices in the first instance. The alternative understanding on empowerment is collective action towards social change with a view to challenging organisational and social structures (Rowlands, 1997). By empowering a group of people towards a mutual goal, collective change can occur. The 2020 #BlackLivesMatter global movement fighting to challenge systematic and institutional racism against Black people is a case in point (Phoenix et al., 2020). Feminist scholars have also stressed the importance of working collaboratively to empower women as a group, develop resources and generate societal change that could not have been possible individually. ‘Law empowerment’ (Al-Sharmani, 2010) is a good example, shifting attention away from women’s individual circumstances towards women’s legal access to medical care, education and employment (Cornwall & Edwards, 2010). To understand the collective position of empowerment, one must also consider power. Rowlands (1997; see also Schutz, 2019) argues that there are three types of power. The first is ‘power to do’ or ‘power to’ and includes individuals’ agency to act in the advancement, and empowerment, of others. The second type of power is ‘power with’, which emphasises a collaborative stance, in which people work together as “relative equals” (Schutz, 2019, p. 23) to create change. The third type of power put forward is ‘power over’, also referred to as a zero-sum game. This posits a hierarchical notion of power in which groups and individuals “coerce or force” (Schutz, 2019, p. 23) others to follow their commands. This model of power assumes a “finite” supply of power (Rowlands, 1997, p. 11); if one person or group has more power, another person or group must have less because it “cannot be created” (Schutz, 2019, p. 28). This means that to change existing relations of power, those without it must take it from another individual or group (Rowlands, 1997). The notion that power is a finite resource in the hands of a few is important when thinking about the distribution of power between women and men and the possibility that women’s empowerment might pose a threat to men. As Batliwala (1993) argues, “women’s empowerment, if it is a real success, does mean loss of men's traditional power and control over women” (p. 9). Furthermore, Rowlands (1997) highlights that when empowerment is constructed as ‘power over’: 22 if women gain power it will be at men’s expense. … Women becoming empowered is seen as inherently threatening, … men will not only lose power but also face the possibility of having power wielded over them by women. Men’s fear of losing control is an obstacle to women’s empowerment. (p. 11) Although there are distinct debates about empowerment as individual or collective feminist action, some scholars have also considered the extent to which these ways of thinking about empowerment are sometimes interconnected, involving both personal and collective forms. Rogers et al. (1997), for example, argued that empowerment is “the connection between a sense of personal competence, [and] a desire for and a willingness to take action in the public domain” (p. 1042) and a way of “gaining control over one’s life and influencing the organizational and societal structure in which one lives” (p. 1042; see also Segal et al., 1995). Others have also suggested that “although women can empower themselves by obtaining some control over different aspects of their daily lives, empowerment also suggests the need to gain some control over power structures, or to change them” (Johnson, 1992, p. 148). What these definitions have in common is their shared understanding that empowerment is about having an internal sense of control and competence in order to achieve an overarching goal of creating wider social and structural change. Therefore, internal and collective constructions of empowerment work hand in hand; we need to change understandings of ourselves as being deserving of power in order for collective and structural change to occur (Kabeer, 2012; Rowlands, 1995). A number of feminists argue that contemporary ‘empowerment feminism’ only serves a soft feminist and neoliberal agenda and, as such, has lost its radicalising potential (Crispin, 2017a; hooks, 2010). Walker (1995), for example, argues that empowerment feminism is a “cloak for conservatism, consumerism, and even sexism" (p. 18). In her polemic, ‘Why I Am Not a Feminist: A Feminist Manifesto’, Jessa Crispin (2017a) argues that feminism has been tamed and has become universal. In its attempt to seek equality with men, the movement has lost its radical and political way and has led to what one might call an apolitical movement that is “as banal, as non-threatening and ineffective as possible” (Crispin, 2017a, p. x). Instead, Crispin states that “the feminism I support is a full-on revolution. Where women are not simply allowed to participate in the world as it already exists … but are actively able to reshape it (Crispin, 2017a, p. xi). Similarly, others have argued that empowerment feminism has turned contemporary feminism into a “feel-good anthem” whereby “empowerment has become the sparkly pink consolation prize for the gender that continues to be excluded from actual power” (Whippman, 2016, n.p.). The very ideas of empowerment have become caricatured, resulting in a soft version of power in which women can be 23 complicit with, rather than challenge, the patriarchal system. The wellness industry and the overt sexualisation and objectification of women (perhaps especially in the music industry) generates an uneasy marriage between capitalism and feminism. Indeed, capitalism is a bedfellow of patriarchy that commercialises overt femininity and sells it back to women through the wellness and beauty industries. Instead of generating structural change, empowerment feminism takes attention away from the need for structural change and leans toward a “social and celebratory” agenda, involving women’s marches, fundraisers and matching feminist clothing, such as pussy hats (Cox, 2017, n.p.). These new expressions of feminism encourage women to think that everything they do is empowering, creating a “ubiquitous vacuousness” (Whippman, 2016, n.p.). Arguably, what was once a “dynamic, radical movement has dissipated into fragmented, identity-based subgroups” (Whippman, 2016, n.p.), offering a “shallow version of political action on personal issues” (Cox, 2017, n.p.) that ignores structural issues. Popular culture: ‘Porns in the industry’ Patriarchy, the sexualisation of women, and empowerment are important in the context of this thesis because they each have a part to perform in the “corporate machine” (Levande, 2008, p. 314) of the music industry. The industry is embedded within a capitalist, patriarchal system in which men, both as performers and as producers, hold the greatest power. One of the ways the industry works is through (largely male) music executives who “prioritize packaging over talent” (Lieb, 2018, p. 9). In other words, they privilege the sexual attractiveness of female pop artists whose looks and bodies are considered to be their “core asset” (p. 9), over and above how they sing. Female performers have long been sexualised and objectified in the music industry. Indeed, Levande (2008) goes a step further to suggest that representations of women in popular culture have become hypersexualised and pornographic. This is important to consider when acknowledging the part played by the music industry in constructing normative expectations of women (Frisby & Aubrey, 2012). Music videos have a long history of depicting misogynistic messages and images. Although recent years have seen a significant increase in the number and success of female artists, the sexualisation and objectification of women in music videos continues unabated (Frisby & Aubrey, 2012; Conrad et al., 2009). In support of profit margins, the industry perpetually produces “cookie-cutter formulaic” moulds which female artists must fit in order to succeed (Frisby & Aubrey, 2012, p. 67; see also Strum, 2002). Empirical research shows that 40 to 75 percent of all genres of music videos contain sexual images (Arnett, 2002), and more specifically, these sexual images include “permissive sexual attitudes, exploitation, objectification, and 24 degradation” of women (Conrad et al, 2009 as cited in Frisby & Aubrey, 2012, p. 68). Women are shown playing submissive roles to male characters, as well as being presented as sexually submissive to men (Ashby & Rich, 2005; Baxter et al, 1985). Additionally, in male performers’ music videos, women do not play an active role like their male counterparts, and instead are used as props, decoration (Arnett, 2002) and sex objects (Prichard & Tiggermann, 2012). A study of depictions of sexualisation in music videos from 1995 to 2016 showed that the sexual objectification continued unabated over the 21-year time-period and the severity of sexual depictions increased over time, with "ambiguous sexual expression, including sexual gestures, sexual poses, and sexual facial expressions” (Karsay et al., 2019, p. 346). Exposure to sexualised and objectified women in music videos has a detrimental effect on young women. Research suggests that music videos showing thin and attractive women results in higher levels of body dissatisfaction among female audiences (Prichard & Tiggermann, 2012, p. 201) as well as women’s own self- sexualisation and objectification (Frisby & Aubrey, 2012). Furthermore, Black women are the most targeted group for sexualisation and objectification in the music industry (Frisby & Aubrey, 2012; Prichard & Tiggermann, 2012), which communicates broader beliefs about Black women’s sexuality (Stephens, 2007). This is especially the case in hip-hop music videos in which Black women are almost twice as likely to be depicted wearing provocative clothing compared with any other ethnic group (Frisby & Aubrey, 2012). These depictions result in problematic assumptions about the heightened sexuality of Black women. The overly sexualised and often misogynistic messages and images contained in pop music videos is the product of the male gaze (Levande, 2008). Laura Mulvey coined the term ‘male gaze’ in 1975, to capture the way women are perpetually represented in the visual arts from the viewpoint of men. The male gaze is defined as “heterosexual men’s visual inspection of women’s bodies or body parts” (Karsay et al., 2018, p. 28; see also Glapka, 2018) and more specifically, as “greater attention to the body or sexual body parts and less attention to the face” (Karsay et al., 2018, p. 28). It is almost impossible for women to avoid being subject to the objectifying male gaze given its “subtle nature and ubiquity” (Karsay et al., 2018, p. 28). It is certainly not difficult to find examples of this viewpoint in pop music videos. Robin Thicke’s 2013 song ‘Blurred Lines’ (2013; see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU) featuring Pharrell Williams and T.I. presents a perfect example. The music video positions Thicke, Williams and T.I. as all-powerful over the female performers. This is achieved in a range of ways: the men are dressed in suits while the women are dressed in their underwear or sometimes appear to be naked; they are shown dancing provocatively around the men but their faces are vacant, expressing boredom and a passive role (see Frisby & https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU 25 Aubrey, 2012); the symbolism of a dice held in the air suggests that women are submissive players in a sexual relational game in which men are in control; a performer is shown as a doll being groomed; another is led around by her hair as though a dog on a lead; and a final scene features the three men standing together in front of the camera while the three women are barely visible dancing in the background, quite literally erased from view (Figure 1). Together, these scenes exemplify Ashby and Rich’s (2005) argument that women’s role in music videos is sexually submissive, serving largely as props, decoration and sex objects (see also Arnett, 2002; Prichard & Tiggermann, 2012). Figure 1: Stills from 'Blurred Lines' – Depictions of the male gaze Another way the male gaze plays out in music videos is through the performance of ‘girl-on-girl action’ as a “manufactured lesbian sexuality” (Levande, 2008, p. 304). Although Smith (2014) argues that performers such as Nicki Minaj “bait[s] queer desire as a mode of empowerment, self-objectification, and fantasy” (p. 360), Levande (2008) offers a sound critique of such depictions, arguing that these scenes do not reflect genuine intimate relationships between two (or more) women. Instead, they are standard “pornographic fare” (p. 296) that manufactures lesbian relationships for the purposes of the male gaze. Furthermore, they become embedded within the common myth that the sexualisation of women in the music industry equals empowerment and the rights to one’s own body. The encounter acts as currency to gain access and legitimacy in a male-dominated space (Levande, 2008). This thesis is not about the depiction of women in pop music in general, but about the relationship between how young women make sense of performers and 26 performances that are presented as feminist in orientation. But this raises questions as to whether pop artists genuinely identify as feminist and want to advance feminist concerns or whether they are harnessing feminism as a brand to serve their own interests, as well as those of their management teams. There is no doubt that the music industry has historically used the language of feminism to capture audiences (Levande, 2008). For example, the term ‘girl power’ was coined by the girl band ‘Spice Girls’ in the 1990s (Levande, 2008). More recently, numerous female artists such as Miley Cyrus, Little Mix and Ariana Grande (discussed in Chapters Four and Five), navigate the feminist music-scape by using their platform in the music industry to promote concerns about gender equality. But, importantly, they must do so whilst simultaneously operating within an industry where their bodies remain sexualised and objectified. Levande (2008) argues that girl groups and bands are a “petri dish” (p. 300) for feminism (see also McDonnell, 2004) and the way this occurs changes in response to the feminist agenda. Iddon and Marshall (2014), for example, argue that there has been a shift from the “collective action” of second-wave ‘sisterhood’ represented in Cindy Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’, to a hypersexualised “provocative postmodernist individualism” performed by contemporary artists (p. 36). While some argue that this “strangely unsettled in-between space” (Iddon & Marshall, 2014, p. 36) can lead to sexual empowerment (McNair, 2002), others argue that the submerging of pop music into the ‘pornosphere’ whereby video performances “appropriate the conventions of pornography” (Iddon & Marshall, 2014, p. 36) can only be viewed as a return to a misogynistic industry where women are seen as nothing more than pawns in the industry. Levande (2008) argues that the music industry has hijacked the feminist movement by harnessing feminism as a brand and using pop stars as products to “sell behaviours and attitudes about sexuality” through their music (p. 301). Levande illustrates her point with the 2004 Superbowl Pepsi advertisement. In the advertisement, Britney Spears, Beyoncé and Pink appear as “scantily clad Roman slaves” (p. 301) for ‘emperor’, Enrique Iglesias. Before long, however, the women unite, defeating and enslaving Iglesias by flipping him into a pit (with the help of a crate of Pepsi). The female pop stars/slaves are liberated while a lion secures his eventual fate, alluding to feminist themes of women’s revolution. But in this case, revolution is concealed under the guise of sexual power through bondage, bare midriffs, and bronze bikinis. The depiction perpetuates the myth of the link between “stripping, prostitution, and pornographic imagery with power” (Levande, 2008, p. 301). Pepsi’s slogan ‘Dare for More’ attempts to represent sexual freedom but the slogan reinforces the message that women become “more by wearing less” (Levande, 2008, p. 301); on the surface at least, it appears that power is acquired through revealing one’s body. Levande 27 (2008) highlights its failure to account for the transactional negotiation of power represented. In this instance, power is ultimately returned to the male consumer in the stadium as “justified consumers of sex, all under the pretext of female empowerment” (p. 302). The advertisement is not only articulating the notion that sex sells, but also a “buy-into notion that demeaning women’s bodies in exchange for profit is acceptable” (Levande, 2008, p. 302). While this section has so far explored the intersection of feminism and popular culture, there is little work that seeks to understand how these depictions impact young women’s understandings of feminism. Kanai (2019) draws connections between how young feminists are educated by, and participate in, feminism through popular culture. Her findings show a blurred relationship between the good feminist subject and “‘idealized femininity’” (p. 26); participants used celebrity culture depicting feminism to classify good and bad feminism through the lens of intersectional feminism. The research also found that the feminist identity was closely intertwined with “practices of perfecting and disciplining the self” (Kanai, 2019, p. 25). As they sought an intersectional identity inclusive of minority groups, participants reinvoked “middle-class whiteness centred on self-monitoring, self- actualization and the disavowal of complicity” (p. 25). While Kanai’s research provides a foundation for my research with its focus on how women make sense of their own feminist identity in the wake of digital and celebrity culture, its focus on how women mobilise their feminism is not considered. A considerable body of work exists in postfeminist literature on young women, postfeminism and popular culture (Robinson, 2011; Evans & Riley, 2013). Robinson (2011), for example, uses postfeminism as a framework for understanding how young Australian women make sense of their lived experiences through exposure to popular culture, in this case, the feminist rhetoric depicted in television series ‘Sex and the City’ and ‘Desperate Housewives’. She found that young women resonated with characters’ lives and thought they embodied (post)feminist ideals, such as sexual autonomy, women enjoying sex without being slut-shamed, choosing not to have children, and not being economically or sexually dependent on a man – ways of life that contest heteronormative ideals of being a woman. Robinson (2011) identifies an emergent tension, however, between the normalised neoliberal construction of choice depicted in both shows, and the way it obscures the lack of choice in their own lives. Sexual consumption was an important feature of the programmes watched and also features in work by Evans and Riley (2013) who examined how young people made sense of celebrities, including how those celebrities might influence their own subjectivity. They found that young women held paradoxical views: they appreciated 28 female celebrity sex symbols, but they also experienced pressure to conform to those same ideals by performing “constant work on the body” (p. 278). This paradox was due to young women’s perception that they were “somehow failing” (p. 278) to conform to ever-more unrealistic standards of feminine beauty. The commercialisation of such beauty ideals, as well as notions of “female freedom and gender equality” (McRobbie, 2008, p. 532) has a powerful influence on young women and girls. Popular culture forms “categories of youthful femininity” (p. 532) through the guise of allyship, a system that maliciously advances an individualised ideal category of girlhood, one that is far from attainable. Although McRobbie (2008), Robinson (2011), and Evans and Riley (2013) did not specifically consider how depictions of feminist popular culture shape young women’s understandings of gender and feminism, their research sheds light on the uncertainties faced by many young women as they navigate the intersection of gender and popular culture. My research takes such ideas as a starting point to consider how popular culture, and pop music in particular, shapes young women and their understandings of gender roles, the body, and sexual autonomy. My study seeks to extend their work, and o