September 12, 1866, a new era of entertainment and feminism started with the New York premiere of "The Black Crook". It is the first American theater show to feature beautiful American girls. The beginning of an era when some of the public go to the musical theater to hear the show while others go to see the showgirls. Since then there has been a tendency, so to speak, to bring on the dancing girls as attractive window dressing to help sell a concept or an idea. Flesh became an agent of profit.
Ye gads! That sounds awful. Are you saying that anything that shows flesh is bad, vulgar or indecent? You don't look or sound like a prude. I am not a prude. I believe flesh in art has a place. The works of the great masters stir people at the inner core of their being. It, also, is not for me to say what is art or what is trash. One person's trash is another person's art. Don't believe me? Go antique shopping with me sometime.
What caught my attention about what "The Black Crook" ushered into society is the purpose of flesh in its presentation. Was the script or cast so weak, the director found it necessary to parade a female form to secure audience approval? Flesh for profit? Today slim beautiful female forms stand smiling in ads for socket wrenches, fishing and hunting gear, automobiles, and alcoholic beverages. Flesh for profit?
Ye gads! There you go again. What are you some kind of crusader for a return to good old American values? Heavens no! Nobody, but good old boys, wants to return to those good old days. You know, days when a man could belt the old lady and brag about it at his local watering hole. The era when a woman, broke, barefoot and pregnant, kept her place, while old dad kept his mistress happy in town or himself in socially accepted brothels like Miss Laura's Place. Ah yes, the summer days in sweat shops with ten year olds girls sewing fourteen hours a day and occasionally losing just a finger or two. Will we ever return to a day when young ladies keep their mouths shut and accept what comes naturally to good old boy fathers, uncles or neighbors? Ah yes, those days when men were men and women were women, whatever that means. Flesh for profit?
My point is that since that eventful day 145 years ago, we have wonder far into the forest of misuse of the female form as an object. Like a hiker in the woods we are surrounded by ads dominated by smiling standing women. As these slim young icons work for profiteers, they net a deeper sale. They subconsciously sell another powerful image. A fundamental message that beauty of the flesh is the only profitable asset a real woman can have in her life. No wonder she is the darling of the good old boy set.
The spill over effect in the rest of our lives is frightening. Witness frustrated women of all ages throwing billions of dollars to a diet industry, who promises you will look like those fleshly images, if you just spend a few more dollars. And nothing is more frightening to a modestly built middle aged woman, than a fashion industry that designs for sports car image bodies. The final straw is the increasing number of upper level executives, who feel compelled to seek a trophy wife from the flesh for profit cult.
Let us see the Madison Avenue ad companies present products solely in light of benefits and features. Please Mr. Ad Man recognize me as a person, who can think. Only a few of us are mindless twits. Restore the standard of truth in advertising. Let me see what I am going to get for my money, not what I wish in my pubic fantasies. It is time to end the era of flesh for profit.
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