can pinup and feminism go hand in hand?

I have a confession; one that I never ever thought I would share online, and especially not in the feminist mag that I write for. But at the beginning of last year I entered a pinup competition. Granted, I entered it before I had any real idea of what feminism was, and, like many people, I had no interest in finding out. I was aware of inequalities, but then only the big ones: pay gaps and assault. And so I entered this competition and got into the state finals.

This isn’t an article to talk down the competition I was in. Rather, it is simply to highlight my experience. As it was a ‘pinup’ competition, the focus was on the 1950s style, as well as on confidence and vintage poses. It wasn’t a beauty pageant per se; it was a competition for women of all shapes and sizes to feel confident and pretty in their own skin. This seemed to highlight feminist ideals for me even as I became aware of many of the issues surrounding feminism today.

But the more I learned about feminism the more uncomfortable I became about the whole thing. I debated it with friends and family, trying to decide if it was against my ideals or for them. I’m guessing you have already made up your mind – it may seem blindingly obvious – but to me, at the time, it was difficult to decide. After all, the girls in the competition were completely varied, and weren’t “beautiful” in the advertising industry sense of the word that is often seen as the only form of acceptable beauty.

And so I decided that the competition was okay – it was even pro-feminist if you look at it from a certain angle and with extra-strength rose coloured glasses: the celebration of confidence and inner beauty; a competition to show that all woman are beautiful.

But when I got there, I felt my heart sinking the second I saw the other girls and began comparing them to me. “She’s prettier than me, she has nicer hair, why did I have to be born ugly?” went through my mind – thoughts that have not plagued me since I became old enough to realise just what an unimportant social construct it all is. And from the looks on the other girls faces as they surveyed each other up and down, they were all thinking the same harmful thoughts.

When I got on stage I didn’t feel confident or empowered. I felt judged, on nothing more than what I looked like. And it didn’t feel good. We can say that competitions like this are about inner beauty, but when you have rounds called ‘swimsuit’ and ‘lingerie’ (though you could pick sleepwear if parading around in your undergarments wasn’t your thing) – whether they’re about 50s outfits or not – it becomes less about the person underneath and all about what is on the outside.

I actually wrote another article before I entered the competition, all about how these competitions can actually be a positive thing. And the competition was a positive thing for some of the girls. They came off the stage glowing; the question is, were they glowing for the right reasons?

Competitions like this can be good for building self-esteem and making women feel beautiful. But when it comes down to it, they are not feeling beautiful for the right reasons. They feel beautiful because they are dolled up and on a stage listening to whistles and applause. They feel beautiful because they are being judged positively by society on their appearance.

Not because they realise that all women are beautiful. And not because they realise that people shouldn’t judge others for something so shallow and aren’t worth the time of day if they do.

I’m glad I entered the competition. It solidified for me just what my ideals are. And what they are not. I just wish that people never felt like they have to be judged on outward appearance.

I wish I hadn’t felt like I needed outside approval to feel halfway decent about myself. Which, when it comes down to it, was the only reason I entered the competition in the first place.

(Image credit: 1.)