Flirting with Equality
I am a product of a cosmetic generation, a generation that has
made billions from objectifying women and has presented surgery as
an option for young people in their quest to conform in ways that a
trip to the mall or an eating disorder can’t provide.
I’ve witnessed the power of suggestion used to influence the
ever-changing face of “beauty,” and I’ve even altered my own
wardrobe in accordance to what other people have decided is
fashionable, and therefore socially superior. Why? Because I, like
so many other people of this generation, desperately need to feel
attractive to someone.
We seem captivated by the life-consuming pursuit of becoming
beautiful and being constantly surrounded by beautiful things. This
media-lined net of aestheticism has ensnared my generation, my
peers and myself.
I noticed this the other day after paying my tab at a local bar.
The waitress was an attractive young woman. After leaving an overly
sufficient tip, I questioned the motives of my generosity.
I debated if I had actually had a more enjoyable experience
simply because of the occasional appearance of someone who is
physically attractive. It took a little contemplation, but I
realized that I had and not because of any perverse aspirations,
but because I felt flattered by the “acquisition” of a few
conversations with something beautiful.
I had essentially paid her extra to flirt with me.
Since this revelation, I’ve begun to notice an increasingly
large number of women in the service industry who seem to use their
feminine ways to increase their income.
“I make more money when I’m dressed up and cute over when I look
all plain and reserved,” said Jane Stewart, a Fort Collins
waitress. “Flirting isn’t really something that waitresses
absolutely have to do, but sometimes it helps.”
Has a woman’s ability to make money in the service industry
become centered around customer/server intimacy rather than quality
of service? This idea would imply that women must meet some kind of
physical or sexual standard in order to lucratively serve food and
drinks, which sounds absurd but is all too feasible.
The Y chromosome seems to alter one’s perception of a dollar’s
value. “Hooters,” for example, is an establishment that was founded
on this principle. As a gender, we men will bitch and moan if gas
prices go up 10 cents, but we’re more than willing to pay $10 for a
pitcher of crappy beer simply because breasts and spandex are
involved.
So the dilemma comes down to this: Either men are to blame for
the surge in the service industry’s influx of cleavage-thrusting
requirements, due to man’s womanizing appetite for “eye candy,” or
the finger should be pointed at the women who cater to this demand
and therefore pass on an increasingly inappropriate standard of
decorum.
In either case, the “if you’ve got it, flaunt it” attitude can
only be contributing a stride backward in women’s struggle to
achieve workplace equality.
“The dress code where I work is just to wear black but I still
know that my outfit can make me more money when I dress cuter,”
Stewart said. “I guess it would be nice if it were only about the
quality of service instead of what the service looked like.”
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.