Consume And Lose Your Identities

I saw something odd on my way to work this morning – there was a sticker of a supposedly supernatural movie by some supposedly supernatural-powered person called Ki Kusumo who promised, among other bizarre things mentioned on the sticker; ‘perawan seumur hidup‘ (Translated: Eternal virginity) , and underneath it said ‘saksikan di bioskop-bioskop kesayangan anda‘ (Translated: On Cinemas Now)

Hang on a second; Eternal virginity?

What, do people actually believe this crap? I mean, would people actually be that stupid to be conned to spend money to buy tickets to see a movie about some guy who promised eternal virginity and God knows what else (a perfectly long and super thick dick perhaps)?

Then today I was chatting to my friend about the amount of shoes she owned – apparently she had ten and according to her that was simply too many, thus mentioning how consumptive she was because out of those pairs of shoes that she owned only a couple that were actually being used to their whole purpose.

The topic got even more interesting as we agreed that Nine West and Zara were amongst the most expensive-but-best-quality shoes (even though I never owned a pair of Zara shoes and I’d mistaken Nine West to Wittner simply because in my mind they seemed vaguely the same).

Right there and then I couldn’t help but thinking about the massive billboards being put on display on those upper-class shopping centers like Plaza Indonesia or Pondok Indah Mall, or rather, the fancy advertisements on Cosmopolitan or Bazaar’s magazine, featuring the sultry looking models swathed in top-notch designer outfits looking all glamorous and fabulous, depicting the world of exclusivity and luxury. And people actually buy it – the whole thing, the idea, the item or whatever it is that is there to offer.

That got me to think more about this whole ‘consumerism’ idea. Regardless of what people wanted to consume, whether it was an over-exaggerated supernatural movie featuring a supernatural icon who could enlarge or seal up people’s genitals or a lux LV bag with the little trinkets and pad locks attached to it, there is really no difference between going to see a crappy movie simply because the advertisement appeals to us or buying a really expensive dress from Mango because we think it will make us appear like the models on the catalogue.

I’m not saying that all brands are bullying us into spending our money for something we don’t necessarily need, but chances are most of the brands out there rely on their advertisements pretty heavily. Take Nike, for example. In her book No Logo, Naomi Klein stated that they spent about 70% for promotion and the rest for the quality of their products.

Now, I like the Nike ads. I think whoever invented them were creative and never seem to run out of ideas – and nevertheless, makes people like me even want to slap on some Nike on me, whatever it was that seemed to be cool – a hooded fleecy top, a pairs of pink and silver outer-space looking shoes that cost $200 a pop.

I’m kind of entertained with the idea that advertising nowadays is all about selling ideas – it’s all about making you to be different, to be unique, to be cool, to be glam, to be sexy, to be, basically, someone who isn’t you. Take Benetton, for example. Sure, they’re all about being multicultural and colorful, but you can only be that way if you wear Benetton otherwise it wouldn’t be right. Or Starbucks – the place to be for hanging out, sipping coffee looking cool, do your work on your laptop and be connected via wi-fi technology – it’s simply the place to be.

You come out of Starbucks coffee holding a grande Mocca frappe and you feel proud you drink Starbucks, you consume Starbucks, and you’re one of those cool people who do nothing but hang out at cafes all day looking trendy. Never mind that you just shed forty thou for a cup of coffee made in Sumatra that cost actually about a tenth of the actual price.

Maybe it’s because most people seem to buy the idea that the real you is not so special after all, unless you consume, consume, consume. And so I wonder what the world would be like in ten years time – full of people with lost identities, I guess.

You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby.

Once upon a time, liberated and independent women all over the world rejoiced for the much-celebrated shows of Sex and the City. It was all about women celebrating their woman-ness and it was all about women making choices, whatever they would be. “Look baby, you have the power to do and be anything to want.”

Suddenly, everything seemed possible and being a woman didn’t seem to be so limited anymore. There was no limit in terms of what we could do and be. Those four women did it, so nothing was impossible anymore! Women could be workaholics and put careers on top of everything else like Miranda and it was fine! Women could have sex like a man and not involve their feelings like Sam! Women could stay old-fashioned and value the traditional merits like Charlotte or be a full on shoe-holics like Carrie! So many options, so little time!

And yet the media got tired of all these “independent women” running amok. It’s not interesting anymore. No gender to ridicule about. No discrimination against them because now they have this new-found perspective that they are just as capable as men and that the world is changing to suit and provide for them, not the other way around. It’s not realistic, they say. Women can’t both have careers and kids at the same time. Women can’t have sex like a man – it’s not in their genes. Women can’t stay unmarried forever.

And so Desperate Housewives was definitely the answer. Yes, women were desperate. In fact they had always been. “Show us something we can relate! None of this silly too-independent-women crap, it’s way too unobtainable to believe!” they cried. “What about us wedded women, it’s not all about the single ones out there!” cried out the moms. All of a sudden there were desperate women everywhere, confessing that they’d been living double-standard lives and torturing their families with their obsession of cleanliness, or women cheating on their husbands and self-confessing their addiction to sex and it was all over Oprah and Dr. Phil or maybe even Jerry Springer, spilling out of control like a clubbed over waterworks.

Then Pink came out all shocking in her new video clip “Stupid Girls”, ridiculing girls who flaunted their bodies and putting too much make up and simply loving themselves too much, saying that she couldn’t name any young female celebrity who was actually smart and there was simply no real role model out there for young girls to look up to. It wasn’t like it was the first time another female celebrity was stating that.

Wait a minute. What role model? Are you? What kind of role models do young girls actually need?

Someone charismatic like Abraham Lincoln or Denzel Washington, only the female versions? What about Condi Rice? Too harsh and fugly? Ok. Angelina Jolie? Fake boobs? No? Lindsay Lohan? Come on, a couple sessions of sticking your finger up your throat was definitely worth it if you could have a figure like her! What, even Carrie from Sex and the City is too slutty now? Okay, what about Britney? Oh hang on, we don’t even know whether or not she’s a virgin except… *gasp* Britney herself!

Women.

Women.

Women. You’ve come a long way now baby. But when will you ever be free?