Earlier this month, The New York Times published a piece critical of red carpet ceremonies. The article called out the sexism of judging women based on their looks rather than their accomplishments, the offensiveness of putting stars on parade, and the banality of asking questions like “Who are you wearing?” It cited E!’s Mani Cam—a runway for women’s nails—as evidence of all that is wrong with the red carpet.
The author made noteworthy points. It is always important to evaluate the media that the public consumes, and it is always commendable to create a stir when that media does not rise to the level of dignity that the public should demand. As a feminist, I certainly do not dispute the validity of the author’s concerns. But as a lifelong lover of pop culture, I believe that the red carpet has merits that justify its place in the hearts and televisions of viewers across the globe.
For about two hours on the evening of an awards show, the red carpet carries fans away from their own not-so-extravagant lives and into a universe of delicious escapism. Most viewers will never wear those gowns, collect those trophies, model those stilettos, or don those jewels. The stark contrast between the common person and the common celebrity explains the red carpet’s appeal: The glitz and the glam of the red carpet offer viewers a chance to forget their troubles and enjoy an innocuous trip to a more glittering world.
Take, for example, the entertainment industry’s most recent red carpet—the one that unfurled last Sunday, February 8, at the 57th Annual Grammy Awards. As always, I had very strong opinions about the getups that music’s brightest stars chose to wear to music’s biggest night. Taylor Swift brilliantly paired hot-pink heels with a stylish aquamarine gown, though the wrinkles in her skirt were distracting. Ciara’s intricately designed dress struck me as a fashionista’s version of the twister from The Wizard of Oz. I was dismayed that Beyoncé played it safe in an unexciting black gown, while I applauded Frankie Grande’s playful red tuxedo. (You have to admire a man whose hair matches his suit.) Although I would have liked to see her tresses pulled back, I decided that Kim Kardashian’s shimmering robe was a perfect mix of “funky enough for the Grammys” and “sexy enough for a member of reality television’s kookiest clan.” Pharrell Williams should have worn pants rather than shorts, but his color-changing suit earned him points. I could go on and on.
The author of the New York Times article would suggest that it is degrading to these celebrities to review their fashion triumphs and tragedies. But the celebrities are not victims of red carpet culture—they are equal and fully willing participants in the pandemonium. They must enjoy being lavished with attention and getting dolled up in free designer duds; if they do not, they can choose not to walk the red carpet. All of the individuals at award shows deserve to be valued for the contributions that they make to their fields, not for the number of fancy gowns or tuxedos that they wear. But talking about those clothes as a lighthearted pastime does not detract from the audience’s appreciation of those contributions.
Celebrities had no shortage of opportunities to show their substance at the Grammys on Sunday. Many used their unique platforms to make impactful political statements and spark meaningful discussions: Prince sent the crowd into well-deserved cheers with the line, “Like books and black lives, albums still matter.” Pharrell and Beyoncé evoked the Ferguson protests in the choreographies of their powerful performances, as did Eric Church, who displayed footage of riots as he sang “Give Me Back My Hometown.” Brooke Axtell, a survivor of domestic abuse, delivered an inspiring speech about her experiences before Katy Perry sang an emotional rendition of “By the Grace of God.”
The author of the New York Times article would further suggest that it is specifically degrading to women to focus on their red carpet couture. But red carpet devotees can and should analyze both men’s and women’s fashions. While it is imperative not to sweep discussions about gender equality under the (red) carpet, perhaps women’s attire is more often put under the public’s magnifying glass not out of sexism but because women’s clothes are historically more unique than men’s typically black-and-white tuxedos.
So when the Oscars roll out the most hotly anticipated red carpet of all on February 22, let’s appreciate red carpet pageantry for what it is—a wonderfully entertaining highpoint of an otherwise run-of-the-mill Sunday evening. I will be wearing sweatpants as I watch in my dorm room, eagerly awaiting the stars’ answers to that age-old question: “Who are you wearing?”
Image Credit: Davidlohr Bueso/Flickr, Pulicciano/Flickr
© 2024 Harvard Political Review. All rights reserved.