Hey y’all! I’m on cloud nine because I’m done with finals and safely at home with my cat, not at school. In a timely culmination of much of my work this semester, both academic and otherwise, I want to share an adapted essay with you all that I wrote for a seminar class recently. It allowed me to formalize and tightly wrap my interest in complaining about white women and fan culture for sport (not in that order) (I kid, I kid) in a particularly concise way, thus the (mostly) formal tone and proper citations. Had this not been graded and limited by the appropriate rubric, it probably would have been been longer, meaner, and unwavering. So it is. Consider this my Substack final.
I’ve made edits and expansions including new content to compound what I had originally written; I've also left my works cited at the end of this issue so you can reference the work that informed the piece. What I want you all to be able to take away from this is that in a time of absolute urgency regarding the protection and promotion of positive visibility for women of color, the harmful actions of white women must not be bypassed or afforded exemption.
Celebrities and public figures exist in modern Western society at an intersection of abject activism and arbitrary affluence, due to their visibility, access and perceived responsibility to the public. When celebrities— for example musical artists and singer-songwriters— present themselves as activists or individuals who stand against injustice against groups they belong to, it is assumed that they must do so in informed efforts to use their resources for the benefit of said groups as opposed to exclusive harm. A frequent case in point is “white feminism”, an overrepresented sector of feminism that fails to consider those affected by sexism who are not of Caucasian descent, a gross oversight that Laura Bates explores in her book Everyday Sexism. With the guidance of Bates’ ideas and teachings of comprehensive intersectionality in feminism, one can discern that when failing to acknowledge the layers of female experiences and adjust their views of feminism to include intersectionality, white women often act as vehicles of white supremacy as well as misogyny when they wield their visible privilege to their advantage at the expense of women of color.
To begin, one could consider the actions and persona of Taylor Swift. Once the richest woman in music, and holder of essentially every sales and streaming record of significance in today’s day and age, Swift and her legacy rest on the haunches of white all-American sweethearts of past and present. Unfortunately, her fame and fortune has often come at the expense of marginalized groups of people she often intentionally disregards in order to hoist herself to wealth and success at incomparable heights. This insidiously high-visibility example of white feminism is consequently enabled by fans who channel support to any and every avenue Swift presents, including mass volleys of hate towards any adversary or antagonist she may face. A fatal combination of crowd mentality and parasociality has excused the actionable harm many celebrities execute; Swift is unfortunately not an isolated example of this phenomenon.
One could currently consider the standard of power— and thus security from a majority of societal disadvantages and discriminations— in the Western world Swift belongs to represented in the following: a white, cisgendered male, affluent, nondisabled, heterosexual, Christian individual. Some of the identified characteristics of the preceding list are expressed more visibly than others, but all compound to define who is granted safety and success in their communities and society at large. This concept is similar to that presented in Laura Bates’ Everyday Sexism. Bates wrote, “Acknowledging [intersectional] double discrimination forces us to recognize that when we think of a “human”, he isn't simply a man. He's a white man. A white heterosexual man. A white heterosexual non-disabled man. A white heterosexual non-disabled middle-aged man. A white heterosexual non-disabled middle-aged cisgender man, and so on” (Bates 295). As Taylor Swift stands now by her own public professions of personal choices and details, she is only once removed from the assumed standard of power in both the music industry and the United States at large.
On August 23rd of 2019, Swift released a song titled “The Man”. As indicated by the simplicity of the name, the song and accompanying music video explore a fictitious male character parallel to Swift’s persona in the media in a proposition that frames her actions in the public eye as overcritized due to her femininity and success as a female artist for over a decade in the music industry. The song received positive responses from both critics and fans, and was hailed as a feminist anthem that demonstrated and critiqued the double standards in media, workplaces and public society that plague women every day. Swift clarified that lyrics and intentions behind the track were both derived from personal sentiments and narratives she herself had observed stating, “It was a song that I wrote from my personal experience, but also from a general experience that I’ve heard from women in all parts of our industry” (Lipshutz). Regardless of inspiration, upon examination the intentional lyrics typical of Swift’s musical signature point to a broader blind spot in modern feminism both as Swift presents it and as a whole.
Her self-empowering proclamations of the objectively distasteful actions she would be free to commit “if she was a man” ring hollow for women with further distance from the access and visibility that Swift has. This attempt to align herself with female fans and foes alike has not gone unnoticed by critics; Brittany Hodak wrote “It [the song] conveys to Swift's female fans that even she isn't above the BS that so many of us are regularly subjected to. Although that may not sound like a hopeful message, camaraderie and relatability have always been staples of Swift's appeal. She's saying to women (and girls), ‘This isn't okay, but it happens to me too’”. Besides the parasocial implications of the idea that one of the highest paid female celebrities in history relates to the struggles of humans who support her, the lyrics of the song fail to consider that not every woman experiences universal gender-based oppression in the same way. Intersectional disadvantages exist in the lives of many women listening to Swift’s music, all of which prevent them from crossing gender barriers— as Swift’s fictive self does— to achieve objective maximum success and fulfillment.
Bates says it best herself when she wrote "Creating rules and protections for 'women' will continue to see many marginalized and forgotten if, when we think of 'women', we are really referring to white, middle-aged, heterosexual, nondisabled, cisgender, middle-class women" (Bates 209). It's impossible to examine how anything (pop music, media harassment, fan culture) negatively or positively affects women without examining how it affects all women, something Laura Bates in her book Everyday Sexism as well as Swift on “The Man” have both declined to do.
One viable solution to the inequitable lens of white feminism is the platforming and support of the businesses and creative efforts of women of color which often go overlooked; this type of support is vital for major players in any industry, especially a music giant such as Swift. Fans recognize Swift’s pattern of supporting other female musicians by her tour openers and guests, yearly song playlists featuring female artists for International Women’s Day, and mentorship of younger female artists in her footsteps. Unfortunately, this pattern met a disappointing break when Swift’s clothing merchandise collection that corresponded with her 2020 album folklore faced accusations of theft and plagiarism in designs from the creative work of Black women. In replicating a stylistic design of the words “THE folklore album” similar to the logo of Black businesswoman Amira Rasool’s clothing brand “The Folklore”. Rasool’s brand focuses on amplifying the African diaspora and African designers who have received less than their due attention in the fashion industry. When publicly approached about these similarities, Swift’s legal team issued a statement that did not acknowledge the likeness nor explicitly name Rasool’s brand, but designated the controversy a “complaint of concern” (Dresdale). The merchandise design was edited to remove a likeness to Rasool’s logo, and the dispute was quietly resolved.
As with any hypothetical copyright concerns, Swift’s representation and legal teams were responsible for private deliberations regarding Rasool’s complaint, but Swift remained silent on all public fronts and provided no apology to Rasool directly. Swift’s frequent vocal presence on her own social media accounts and previously confirmed leading role in both her own social mythos and merchandise design were both absent as the work of Black women went unnoticed and plagiarized under her supervision. These omissions are not isolated incidents; Swift has faced controversy regarding her dedication to speaking out in respect to specific social injustices on the basis of gender but silence concerning racial injustice until recent statements. While many subjective public perceptions of Swift’s priorities and social presence may arise, her concrete actions and words stand for themselves as representatives of her approach to feminism— a self reflecting white one, which stands as an exemplary case as Bates described— which does not comprehensively encompass neither her audience nor women at large.
Contrary to what frequently professed by fans of Swift, I have relatively few quibbles with Swift’s musical work. I’m turning on the porch lights of my glass house before I throw stones when saying I enjoy a lot of her music, and have witnessed the massive scale her work is enjoyed at as well as promoted. Without dirtying my skirts in much of the reductive discourse surrounding “separating art from the artist”, I only beg that audiences be honest with themselves as well as those artists they are observing. I also ask that they stop making excuses.
On such a widely successful platform today, it is undeniable that Swift (as well as many creators often referenced in said discourse) directly profits from her work. She validates her music’s autobiographical nature, and consistently establishes it as an integral part of herself rather than a behemoth of a marketing empire held together by red lipstick and fan culture beyond her reach- as it has been for decades, even. Funds are not being withheld from her nor accredited to others, despite her ongoing work to reclaim some of her intellectual property and creative work, a battle I have followed closely in regards to the precedent it sets for label contracts for future artists. Taylor Swift is a multi-millionaire human being, and this is made directly possible by the dedication, engagement and cold hard cash of her supporters.
In an increasingly insular fan economy such as the world of “Swifties”, fan engagement is directly correlated to access. In order to glimpse a chance of receiving higher queue standing for concert tickets, stans feverishly streamed music videos and lyric videos for days on end. When Swift is visibly active online via social media platforms, fans spam and drown out their own feeds, in hopes that she would even look at one of their posts. Even the most lukewarm devotees often theorize and mythologize clues and “easter eggs” from promotional content; there is no denying that all of this works. Whether the inner workings of the poor tortured mind of a Swiftie interest you or not, a greater discussion is to be had regarding the dedication of Swift’s fanbase and the inherent reflection of Swift herself they present.
As with many pop musicians who have maintained their audience for over 10 years, a strong sense of nostalgia is immediately attached to Swift's image. Longtime fans correlate her work with their middle school dances, high schools graduations, first kiss date breakups and everything in between. These songs are personal, not only because they are well loved, but because they are “yours”. What then, does this say of the unwavering devotion cultivated in fandom cesspools when their fave and their work age poorly? To answer, this says that critiques of Swift are often critiques of Swifties, who are ready to fight tooth and nail to defend the honor of their favorite celebrity.
It is also very true that Swift has faced a great deal of arbitrary vitriol from the media, for varying reasons. That is not what I’m talking about. What I am addressing is former fans or innocent bystanders highlighting the actions that must be acknowledged and dealt with either on a fan level or to the general public, such as posing with neo-nazis and threatening legal action against those who reported on it (as well as her repeated neutrality towards eugenicist hate groups who have long since claimed her a figurehead of their movement), stealing IP from black women, dating a successive line of teenagers as a 20 year old, and my personal favorite (or lack thereof, you get it), announcing a rerecorded album 6 months in advance and effectively flooding social media for a week on the day Juneteenth was confirmed as a federal holiday. Not in any particular order, mind you. The overarching narrative professed by many fans, as well as Swift herself, is that undue media criticism and persecution against the most famous white woman in the world is inevitable, and thus should be treated as an opportunity for innovation, good humor, “satire”, and the occasional girl power moment. In, once again, making harm done to marginalized communities by action or inaction about Swift’s victimhood rather than the communities affected, Swifties present a water-tight case study to prove the words of Bates true.
Obviously, this is not an isolated phenomenon. I wrote previously about how the sensationalization of public scandals surrounding a celebrity’s harmful actions often does more harm than good, and turns people away from genuinely listening to core concerns. Stan culture continues to have a gorilla grip on some of the strangest people on earth for the strangest reasons, but that’s a broader sea to sail another day. It sounds increasingly familiar because of the fact that reprehensible people will always have reprehensible fans, because birds of a feather flock together and all that jazz.
What is more important to me is directing the brightest spotlight of acknowledgment and accountability possible onto those reprehensible things that white women in high positions of power do at the expense of everyone else, as well as the white women underneath them, around them and packing their stadiums who let them get away with it. The childhood birthday parties and concert memories of one are irrevocably inadequate when compared to the marginalized lives and legacies that made them possible. bell hooks has just passed away, may her memory rest in peace. Frankly, when faced with the laughable examples of white feminism presented to me such as these compared to the alternative value and justice woven in the virtues of intersectional feminism such as that of hooks, I’m bored. I’m disinterested, then apathetic, then really really sad.
Works Cited
Bates, Laura. Everyday Sexism. Thomas Dunne Books, 2016.
Dresdale, Andrea. “Taylor Swift Responds to Accusations She Copied 'Folklore' Logo.” Good Morning America, https://www.goodmorningamerica.com/culture/story/taylor-swift-responds-accusations-folklore-logo-takes-action-72027619.
Hodak, Brittany. “Why 'Lover' Track 'the Man' Is the Most Important Song Taylor Swift Has Ever Written.” Forbes, Forbes Magazine, 24 Aug. 2019, https://www.forbes.com/sites/brittanyhodak/2019/08/23/lover-offers-the-most-important-song-taylor-swift-has-ever-written/?sh=24bcec1884d8.
Lipshutz, Jason. “Taylor Swift Discusses 'The Man' & 'It's Nice to Have a Friend' in Cover Story Outtakes.” Billboard, 12 Dec. 2019, https://www.billboard.com/music/pop/taylor-swift-cover-story-outtakes-the-man-8546109/.
Thanks for reading! I’ll see you next week for our very first commissioned book review, and also a discussion thread about our fave and flopped projects of the year. In the meantime I will be listening to “Starting Line” by Luke Hemmings and sleeping approximately 13 hours every night. Love you!
SO good and incisive