1:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gby0zfCYiA: Paris Hilton Carl Jr's Burger Commercial

2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EVsm5JsyB0: Accolo Spoof of Paris Hilton Commercial

You aren’t a….feminist…are you? Said with a reservation one might expect if probing another’s penchant or inborn proclivity towards whips and chains S&M, or child pornography. And it is true, I frequently feel the need for a disclaimer, a scarlet F emblazoned on my chest: branded, labeled and quantified: bra burner, possible deviant and probable lesbian. Well, as a modern, non-deviant, man-loving, La Senza Club member, I can assure you the traditional homogenizing stereotypical signifiers—which are automatically pinned to the lapels of females which dare to admit their feminist inclinations—are largely false (not to intend that lesbianism is negative). Most of us do not wish to de-masculate and destroy all men, or rampage on random fanatical feminist rants (although infrequent indulgence must be admitted as a luxury). Yet there descends a judgmental and pensive gaze by many who become privy to the feminist skeletons occupying my closet. These skeptics appear severely troubled, as if they have been exposed to a contagion like smallpox they thought had been eradicated years ago. Why has feminism within our popular cultural vernacular been marginalized and characterized as a pseudo-profanity and antiquated-unmentionable; destined to be relegated to the graveyards of clichéd “isms” of yesteryear. Not to say the desire for equality has been abolished, but labeling ones desire for such under the rubric of feminism has become the pop cultural equivalent of social suicide; a clear declarations of ones “out-of-touchness” with the “realities” of modern life. As delineated in the article “Talkin’ ‘Bout Whose Generation”, Candis Steenbergen details how feminism has become lost (especially third wave feminism) amidst the glossy images and catchy tag-lines of post-modern, post-feminists who parade their “ostentatious sluttishness” (Germaine Greer as Quoted in Steenbergen, 262) and self-claimed, fully-realized sexual/social/political equality as legitimation for draining the life-blood out of feminist activity. So how does my lamenting the tragic death of pro-feminist declarations fit in with an analysis of sexuality and advertising? Enter exhibit A; the self-proclaimed non-feminist (Jay Leno) pro-“equalist”—fervently-fetishized, hyper-sexualized and scantily-clad—modern matrona of so-called post-feminist “liberation”, Paris Hilton. A recent TV commercial for Carl Jr.'s, features a “hell-hath no fury like a half-dressed woman with a burger fetish” Miss Hilton, writhing, cooing and seducing viewers in a quasi-orgasmic, fast-food romp. Beyond the rather ironic juxtaposition of processed cheese and processed femininity, this tragic moment in the history of modern womanhood, to me, is indicative of sexual liberation gone horribly and calorifically awry. Such packaging’s of femininity, with their “chic, inoffensive, commercial qualities” which can be easily fashioned into “painless products for the public to consume,” (Steenbergen, 260) are categorically opposed to the stereotypically psychically-conjured notions of “typical feminists” as “anti-men, anti-sex and obsessed with notions of women as hapless victims (Steenbergen, 259).” Paris stands (or rather gyrates) as a pro-man, pro-sex, take-charge meat-eating maven who will have her post-feminist burger and eat it too. See embodies the prototypical post-feminist mascot of women who have “made it” as delineated by Steenbergen; #1: heterosexual (check) #2: white (check) #3: able-bodied (slightly scrawny…but…check) #4: well-educated (Ok...No) #5: financially successful (double check) #6: overtly sexual (triple check). Yet I would suggest this pretense of “freedom of sexuality” in a world in which women’s liberation has presumably triumphed, has a much more sinister reality of false-freedom and sexual subjection. One must ask, for whose benefit is Paris parading herself in fancy swimwear and perfectly spray-tanned perfection? Freezing the narrative in moments of lingering erotic contemplation, Paris is fetishized along with her gargantuan fetish burger, fetish devouring fetish, object consuming object in the quasi-varnished realm of tiny Chiquita’s lecherously consuming fat-infested foodstuffs. Monetary benefits aside, such acts of grossly sexualized product pimping, undoubtedly situate themselves, and find their cultural saliency within dominant narratives of passive, objectified, bound and idealized femininity. Thus on the terrain of liberation and freedom, both sexual and gendered, they quickly loose their cultural clout. It is these false-heirs to the sexual revolution, which paper over societal inequalities and pervasive subjection and discrimination and instill the perception that “because some women have prospered the systematic inequalities facing all women have vanished into history.”(Steenbergen, 260) If only Gloria Steinem could have predicted that hocking coagulated beef products through slutted-up images of femininity would prove to be one of the many post-modernist re-fashionings of decades of feminist labour, would she have invested so dearly in the cause of female liberation? And not to place the weight of the post-modernist world on Senorita Hilton’s shoulders, yet the reality remains that ladies are being led astray and bestowed with a false consciousness which leads to “misguided non-participation in the women’s movement (Steenbergen, 260).” Some may suggest Hilton is channeling a gendered version of strategic essentialism, whereby stereotyping logic is re-directed by an agent subjected to the false epistemology and essentializing dialects of ideal and appropriate femininity and female sexuality. Or perhaps Hilton gains some vicarious masochistic pleasure through a knowledge of and participation in her own objectification. Not to critique what rubs anyone’s particular Buddha, however I am inclined to believe Hilton remains contently oblivious and imprisoned by the false hopes and ephemeral phantasmagoria of post-feminist ideological prisons. Further, proving the androcentric nature of phallically constructed presumptions of female sexuality, Hilton stands as a prime example that “a sexualized society does not guarantee sexual pleasure for all individuals (Mariana Valverde as quoted in Steenbergen, 264).” As noted by Ariel Levy in Female Chauvinist Pigs, concerning Hilton's creepy night-vision sex video with pedophilia-flirting, C list celebrity Rick Solomon, one may attest to Hilton’s incredible disinterest (bordering on atrophy-induced boredom) in the actual act of sexual performance. As such, one may assume Hilton has had her sexuality painted on like a coat of pop-culture varnish, brushed over her specifically tailored visage of modern pre-packaged femininity by the hegemonic middle-men of societal mass marketing. Attesting to the utilization of particular visions of female and human sexuality in general for the purposes of advertising, recruiting firm Accolo, stating quite perfectly at the end, "Hiring the right person makes all the difference." Please check this out (for incredibly convincing visual cultural commentary) yet be prepared to be slightly freaked out!