She Gives Birth, She's Wearing a Bikini: Mobilizing the Postpregnant Celebrity Mom Body to Manage the Post–Second Wave Crisis in Femininity

Abstract

This essay evaluates the new post-pregnant quickly slender, even bikini-ready, body as a rhetorical phenomenon within the broader context of the new momism and the post–second wave crisis in femininity. The rhetorical analysis of the quickly slender celebrity mom profiles reveals that the new momism is far more complex rhetorically then just backlash and cooptation; rather, the new momism is a sophisticated and complex backlash, and it works rhetorically to simultaneously acknowledge and refute (erode) feminist gains. The quickly slender, even bikini-ready, body also works as a rhetorical device to strategically manage the post–second wave crisis in femininity in ways that continue to re-establish both mothering and beauty as the most important components of femininity, while reinforcing the domestic division of labor that continues to persist between women and men in the private sphere despite the fact that unencumbered (without children) men and women's lives are much more similar today.

Keywords:

• feminism
• new momism
• post–second wave crisis in femininity

Acknowledgments

The author wishes to thank Sara Hayden, Helene Shugart, and the reviewers for their insightful readings of earlier drafts of this essay. The initial ideas for this essay were presented at the 2010 National Communication Association annual meeting.

Notes

In one brief passage about one of the first celebrity mom profiles, Douglas and Michaels note that Debbie Boone actually said that childbirth made her weigh less. As they put it, quoting from a Good Housekeeping celebrity mom profile of Boone: “Debbie gained twenty-six pounds during her pregnancy, and lost them instantaneously. In fact, three days after Jordon's birth, ‘I weighed a pound less than I did before I was pregnant.’ Many readers no doubt had shared this experience of the have-a-baby weight-loss program” (110). This, however, is the only mention of a quickly slender body in their discussion of celebrity mom profiles. For clarity, I concur with Douglas and Michaels’ disdain for the ridiculousness of pregnancy as a weight-loss tool. However, it is important to take seriously how strongly women receive this message of slenderness and pregnancy in order to understand how deeply embedded the ideal of the slender body is becoming within the new momism.

As contemporary feminist scholars argue (Douglas and Michaels; Hays; O'Reilly), one of the most complex sights of tension between the old and the new is contemporary understandings of “good” mothering. Even though contemporary women have been raised to believe—almost entirely as a result of second wave feminist successes—that they now have the choice to mother or not, feminist scholars (Douglas and Michaels; Hays; O'Reilly) suggest that there is very little choice in terms of how to mother. Indeed, as Hays first suggested, “If you are a good mother, you must be an intensive one. The only ‘choice’ involved is whether you add the role of paid working woman” (131). Intensive mothering, as feminist academics (Douglas and Michaels; Hays; O'Reilly) argue, rests on at least three core beliefs: (a) children need and require constant and ongoing nurturing by their biological mothers, who are single-handedly responsible for meeting these needs; (b) in meeting those needs, mothers must rely on experts to guide them; and (c) mothers must lavish enormous amounts of time and energy on their children. In short, mothers should always put their children's needs before their own.

By employing the term post–second wave, I mean to suggest “after second wave feminism” or “as a result of second wave feminism.” Consequently, unlike much popular writing, I do not employ the term to mean that we live in a postfeminist context, implying that all gender problems have been solved via second wave feminism.

From the early days of the celebrity mom profiles, women of privilege—economic, racial, and heterosexual—were and continue to be the focus of the profiles.

By neoliberalism, I mean political practices that draw on the market, the language of choice, and individual solutions for social issues. I am also extending the argument that neoliberal solutions are already embedded in fit pregnancy advice via healthism. As Jette argues, “Body panic relies on healthism—the idea that the individual is responsible for the health of the self and the nation—[and] simultaneously displaces critiques of structural problems and places onus on the individual” (104). In doing so, neoliberal ideologies displace any structural or ideological critique of the body, intensive mothering, and femininity, and turn women's struggle to “have it all” it into a personal, health issue. Jette also concludes, “The phenomenon of healthism, in which the individual is viewed as responsible for maintaining her own physical heath by making appropriate lifestyle choices and avoiding risky behavior, is a manifestation of the ‘individual enterprise’ which is characteristic of neo-liberal government” (336). Thus, I am also suggesting that neoliberal solutions—via healthism—to the post–second wave crisis in femininity are also embedded in the new momism.

Here, I am also extending and refining Douglas and Michaels’ work by suggesting that the backlash embedded in the new momism is a specifically post-second wave and sophisticated backlash. In using the phrase post-second wave backlash, I draw on Ann Braithwaite's recent extension of Susan Faludi's groundbreaking work Backlash. Braithwaite argues that a Faludian understanding of backlash entails recognizing how contemporary backlash simultaneously integrates feminism in the service of blaming feminism for any difficulty women experience in managing their post–second wave lives as mothers. Indeed, as I have argued (O'Brien Hallstein, White Feminists), institutionalized motherhood, via the contemporary ideology of good mothering—intensive mothering—is a new post–second wave ideology of “good” mothering that utilizes and harnesses women's gains as second wave beneficiaries in the service of reestablishing mothering as the most important part of contemporary femininity. As a result, contemporary intensive mothering is utilizing feminist gains in the service of constraining women's lives and reconfining women to mothering. And, as such, today's intensive mothering now positions all women as “second wave beneficiaries”—women who have benefited from and taken advantage of second wave feminist successes regardless of whether any particular woman actually views herself as a feminist or has actually had access to the gains—and demands that all women bring their newfound (or potential) gains in education and professional skills to their mothering. Thus, the new momism is more than a “cooptation” or “refutation” of second wave feminism and instead is a sophisticated form of backlash that simultaneously acknowledges and refutes second wave gains.

In fact, the PopEater story suggests that these quickly slender postbaby reveals are so important now that magazines are even willing to digitally alter mothers’ postpartum bodies to get the quickly slender story first.

In terms of the images that accompany the profiles, Douglas and Michaels argue that “the celebrity had to be photographed displaying a broad toothy grin, her child in her lap or lifted with outstretched arms above her head, an accessory who made her look especially good on her sofa or balcony. Celebrity mothers are invariably surrounded by pastels and suffused in white light; the rooms we often see them in feature white or pastel furniture” (113). Consequently, celebrity mom profiles reveal the joy celebrity moms have found as privileged fit mothers as they intensively juggle work, family, and child care. Moreover, in looking at the celebrity mom profiles in Douglas and Michaels's book, it is clear that many of the moms were profiled with much older babies; in other words, the babies all appear to be closer to a year old or older (toddlers). Thus even though babies appear far less frequently in the quickly slender profiles, when they do appear the babies are also much younger than those shown in the profiles that Douglas and Michaels detail. It is also clear that celebrity mom postpartum profiles appeared much later than they do now in the quickly slender profiles.

The focus on Wilkinson's postpartum body continued a few months later when People Online describes Wilkinson in the following way: “Kendra Wilkinson shows off her svelte body-after-baby at Moorea Beach Club at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas on Saturday” (“Kendra Wilkinson Shows Off” par. 1).

I thank an anonymous reviewer for pointing out this changed understanding of women's bodies.

It is this cover of Kardashian that was the impetus for the PopEater article. Kardashian also protested the cover, arguing that she never gave an interview and insisting that her postpartum body did not look like the cover. Indeed, she insisted that the picture was photoshopped. Even though the image was photoshopped, the messages contained in the cover story are consistent with the discourse of quickly slender postpartum bodies in other celebrity mom profiles.

A second “logical” outcome of the demand for a quickly slender body is not just being fit during pregnancy but also trying to stay thin during pregnancy. One recent example of this is supermodel Gisele Bundchen. The omg! Web site reveals, “Supermodel Gisele Bundchen stayed so thin while pregnant with baby Benjamin, she didn't need to wear maternity clothes” (“Gisele Bundchen Didn't Wear” par. 1). After admitting that she has not exercised since giving birth, Bundchen, who posed for Brazilian fashion line Colcci just six and a half weeks after giving birth, goes on to say, “But little by little I recovered the form. It helps that I have not gained much, have had natural childbirth, and breastfeeding” (par. 6). While Bundchen challenges the imperative to immediately return to exercise, she clearly recognizes that staying thin during pregnancy can be a “preemptive strategy” for a quick recovery. Moreover, Bundchen also seems to suggest that being the best, most “natural” mother—being an intensively laboring birthing mother—also played a part in her quickly slender body. And, ironically, she did return to exercise to enhance her postpartum body. A few months after giving birth, People online had a picture of Bundchen in workout clothes with the following copy: “After recently unveiling her enviable, post-baby body, Gisele Bundchen intends to keep it that way with a workout Tuesday in Studio City, Calif.” (“Feel the Burn” par. 1). “Pregorexia,” a pop psychology term, not a medical term, is used to describe pregnant women's desire to stay “thin” during pregnancy and their preoccupation with weight control through extreme dieting and exercise while pregnant. In a CBS Early Show report on pregorexia, “Moms-to-Be, Obsessing over Weight, Diet, Exercise so Much They Put Baby's Health in Some Jeopardy,” the link between celebrity moms and dieting during pregnancy was made clear. The report suggests, “Some of those women may get started on the path to ‘pregorexia’ by images of celebrities who look thin while pregnant and immediately after given birth, observers agree” (par. 2). The report also suggests, “Some women get so obsessed with keeping their weight in check while pregnant that they go overboard on dieting and exercise and put their baby's health at some risk, some experts say” (par. 1). In an ABC News article, both women and their mothering were indicted in a report about pregorexia. Robert Zurawin, an associate professor at the department of obstetrics and gynecology at Huston's Baylor College of Medicine, said, “Women who are pregorexic—or don't eat when they're pregnant because they're afraid of gaining weight—need to think about their baby” (quoted in Friedman par. 10). He went on to say, “There are so many fad diets out there with no carbs and women are so obsessed with body image that they don't want to gain weight during their pregnancy because they're afraid of not being able to lose it afterward” (quoted in Friedman par. 11). Interestingly, then, while pregorexia is the “logical” outcome of messages women receive about trying to remain attractive and fit when pregnant, pregorexia is blamed on the very women who try to meet these ideological imperatives.

There is no doubt that celebrity moms are women of privilege in terms of economic, racial, and sexuality privilege. Indeed, almost all the women profiled are White, heterosexual, and have the economic means to hire both the child care and domestic help necessary to engage in the kind of rigorous dieting and exercise required of the quickly slender body. As noted in the beginning of the analysis, this invisible privilege is almost never acknowledged by celebrity moms nor in the profiles of them.

A new magazine, Juicy, explores the lives of celebrities of color, primarily African American celebrities. In its second edition, the magazine had a story titled, “Mommies with Great Snapback!”(Gipson 50–51). While it did not feature the quickly slender issues as prominently, this story also employed the before-and-after format and focused almost entirely on the celebrity moms successful “snapback.” It is important to note that one significant difference in this story was the acknowledgment that losing baby weight is difficult. As the subheading put it: “Losing Baby Weight after Childbirth Is Damn Difficult, But It's Not Impossible. Juicy Takes a Look at Celebs Who've Dropped the Pregnancy Pounds Successfully” (50–51).

Yummy mummy was initially a British phrase to describe what Americans would call sexy moms. There has been considerable crossover recently between the British and American phrases, such that many Americans now use the term yummy mummy and some British use the term sexy moms.

MILF means “mother I would like to fuck.” It tends to primarily be used by teenage boys and young men to describe their friends’ mothers and/or attractive “older” mothers.

The history of the bikini itself in relation to women's emancipation and changes in women's body image is both interesting and complex. To summarize that history briefly: The bikini has been viewed as both a symbol of emancipation and oppression for women. While the bikini itself is more than “1,700 years old, according to mosaics dating from 300 AD at the Villa Romanan del Casale in Sicily, … it took off as a fashion item in the late 1950s” (Westcott par. 6–7). In an article about the 60th anniversary of the bikini, the BBC reports that, when it was introduced in America in the 1950s, the bikini was considered too risqué for women and was symbolic of indecent sexuality, primarily because it “exposed the navel and that was frowned upon” (Westcott par. 18). However, while the bikini was less popular in the 1980s, today, it is a mainstay of the swimwear market. The BBC reports that “teenagers and young women are said to be the major buyers, but women over 30 make up an increasing share [of buyers]” (Westcott par. 26). The BBC also reports the newfound popularity of the bikini for over-30 women is directly linked to the fitness movement. As they put it: “Some argue that the key to the bikini's re-found popularity is the ageing baby boomers who signed up to the fitness-obsessed culture” (Westcott par. 28). Moreover, the BBC interviewed Kathy Peiss, a professor of women's history at the University of Massachusetts. According to Peiss, the baby boomer group is “inculcated with the idea that they won't ever grow up'” (quoted in Westcott par. 28). In short, over-30 mothers—having grown up in an era of women's empowerment and as fitness-focused unencumbered women—no longer believe that they need to be “matronly” once they become mothers and instead believe they can and should remain sexy-bikini-wearing moms. In this way, being a bikini-wearing postpartum mom symbolizes women's empowerment.

In her essay, Bordo does suggest that the slender body is a denial of reproduction. By arguing that the quickly slender body does not deny reproduction but now denies pregnancy and maternity, I am updating Bordo's work for our contemporary context rather than challenging her initial claims. More than fifteen years later, I believe that the slender body ideal is being refined in the same ways that the new momism continues to be refined. Thus, I do not disagree with Bordo's early work; rather, I am simply suggesting an update to her landmark ideas.

Although academia is viewed as a liberal and progressive, academic mothers also continue to have primary responsibility for caregiving and, as a result, suffer penalties at work because of those caregiving responsibilities. Recent studies of both academic women and mothers (Mason and Goulden, “Do Babies Matter?”; Mason and Goulden, “Do Babies Matter (II)?”; Wolfinger, Mason, and Goulden) reveal that gender discrimination more generally and specifically against academic mothers continues to be widespread in academia, primarily due to women's ongoing caregiving responsibilities. Indeed, even though more and more women are completing PhDs and are entering the academic pipeline, academic mothers do not have gender equity with male academics, including male academics who also have children. Goulden and Mason (“Do Babies (II)”), for example, argue that “even though women make up nearly half of the PhD population, they are not advancing at the same rate as men to the upper ranks of the professoriate; many are dropping out of the race” (11). The primary reason women are dropping out or “leaking out of the pipeline” is because having children penalizes academic mothers far more than it does academic fathers, while sometimes having children even benefits academic fathers. Mason and Goulden (“Do Babies (II)”) even wryly argue that “‘married with children’ is the success formula for men, but the opposite is true for women, for whom there is a serious ‘baby gap'” (11). More pointedly, in their earlier essay, Mason and Goulden also note “there is a consistent and large gap in achieving tenure between women who have early babies and men who have early babies [having a baby prior to five years after a parent completes his or her PhD], and this gap is surprisingly uniform across the disciplines and across types of institutions” (“Do Babies Matter?” 24). They also note, “Surprisingly, having early babies seems to help men; men who have early babies achieve tenure at slightly higher rates than people who do not have early babies” (24). The opposite is the case for women who have early babies. Consequently, Mason and Goulden (“Do Babies Matter?”) find that women with early babies often “do not get as far as ladder-rank jobs” and often make family-work choices that “force them to leave the academy or put them into the second tier of faculty: the lecturers, adjuncts, and part-time faculty” (24). Thus, even though academic institutions are primarily progressive and liberal institutions, academic motherhood also continues to be replete with discrimination based on motherhood.

In making this argument about the institution of motherhood versus the potential of mothering to be empowering to women if they can define mothering for themselves, I am drawing on Adrienne Rich's landmark work in Of Woman Born. Rich made the crucial distinction between the institution of motherhood and the potential of mothering. Rich's most basic argument is that motherhood is a patriarchal institution that oppresses women and that mothering has the potential to be empowering to women if they are allowed to define and practice mothering for themselves. In doing so, Rich was the first feminist scholar to introduce the idea that motherhood was ideological and, as a result, also political. Rich explores the history of pregnancy, childbirth, and mothering in the first five chapters to argue the institution of motherhood exercises control over women as they bear and rear children to serve the interests of men. As Rich puts it: “The mother serves the interests of patriarchy: she exemplifies in one person religion, social conscience, and nationalism. Institutional motherhood revives and renews all other institutions” (45). Even though Rich did not have the language of social construction yet, she made one of the first social constructionist arguments when she claimed, “The patriarchal institution of motherhood is not the ‘human condition’ any more than rape, prostitution, and slavery are…. Motherhood has a history, an ideology” (33). Thus, first and foremost, Rich views the institution of motherhood as a patriarchal form of social control, while she also views the experience of mothering as potentially empowering if women are allowed to define mothering for themselves outside of the institution of motherhood. As such, Rich made an all-important distinction between the institution of motherhood and the potential empowered relations in mothering. As Rich argued, “I try to distinguish two meanings of motherhood, one superimposed on the other: the potential relationship of any woman to her powers of reproduction and to children; and the institution, which aims at ensuring that that potential—and all women—shall remain under male control” (13). Based on this groundbreaking distinction, Rich views the institution of motherhood as male defined, male controlled, and as deeply oppressive to women, while she views the experience of mothering as a potentially empowering relationship for both women and children.