So Rihanna put a lovely photo of her bum on Twitter this week. I enjoyed it, as did millions of others I’d imagine. My question however, is why did she put a snap of her rump on the internet? She was trying to emphasise how delighted she was with her new pair of Prada boots, writing:
“Gotcha b**ch tip toeing on my marble flo’!!! Sick ass custom Prada boots! Miuccia you RULE!!! Thank you,”
Ummmm yeah. Anyway, chatting to a colleague about this he said maybe the entertainment industry is inherently sexist, referencing Seth McFarlane’s ‘We Saw Your Boobs’ song at the Oscars, where the Family Guy creator pointed out various scenes where famous actresses (most of whom were present and pictured looking shocked) had got their kit off. I disagree however, I don’t think the entertainment industry is sexist towards women, I just think it’s utterly obsessed with sex, as is humanity in general.
The fact that ‘sex sells’ is hardly big news but it was only when I started thinking about it that I realised almost everything is couched in terms of sex. Ryan Gosling, a fine actor, is rarely ever mentioned without someone pointing out what a dish he is. Just look at Claudia Winkleman’s preview for his new movie The Place Beyond the Pines on this week’s Film 2013, where her only comment was ‘Bleach blonde, I love it.’ … He has dyed his hair for the movie. Or Harry Styles. The media is absolutely obsessed with where his willy has been or will find it’s self next. Even when we talk about Islamic terrorism, how many times is there a reference to the 72 virgins supposedly awaiting martyrs in heaven, often accompanied by a snide gag. So even when it comes to blowing up innocent civilians, we can always find the shagging angle.
As I say, there’s nothing new about being obsessed with sex but it is sometimes detrimental to our understanding of what’s important. Whether it be chuckling away as Silvio Berlusconi oversees a horribly corrupt and poorly-run country because it’s pretty jokes that he has those crazy ‘Bunga Bunga’ parties or failing to ever truly appreciate what a superb actress Angelina Jolie is because we’re constantly thinking ‘Please let her get her tits out, please let her get her tits out’ and then when she does ‘YESSSSSS!!!’ and promptly texting our mates. The fact that our obsession with naked flesh often colours our perception of those who bare it is something Mila Kunis and Emma Watson shrewdly recognised when they turned down the movie version of cultural phenomenon Fifty Shades of Grey. I don’t get why that book became so big anyway, I’m just into boobs and bums and thinking about them… a lot. Hence whips, chains and psychological dominance don’t really get me rubbing my thighs and calling for the lube. Mila and Emma both realise that the last thing a rising Hollywood star needs is to expose their bare arse to a spanking on a 50 foot screen in front of a leering audience.
The point of this week’s article is… well I’m not sure really. I just feel like I’ve had an epiphany and realise how much we prioritise sex over substance. I do the same and will continue to do so, even while writing this article I heard from the property show playing on the TV in the background ‘We’re off to see architect Simon Rimmington.’ And I laughed… out loud. I didn’t think, ‘Ooh why are they going to see Mr. Rimmington?’ But rather ‘Hahaha he likes to rim people!’ Maybe it’s a limitation of our human brains or another manifestation of the evolutionary prerogative to procreate that ultimately no matter what we’re thinking about or it’s context ultimately, it all comes down to bonking… And that’s why Rihanna automatically decides to pop a pic of her arse on Twitter to tell us how much she likes her new footwear.
First published on IAmMusic.TV, 7th March 2013