Calling time on club nights that sexualise women

Why are women still expected to look a certain way?



I’ve never been one for clubbing, which is rather surprising seeing as I’m a second year undergraduate at one of the most notorious "party" universities in the country. I chose to attend Liverpool for its atmosphere, its culture and the course they offered. However, many of my housemates chose Liverpool solely on its reputation as a good night out. Fair enough - I can appreciate having a good time with your friends, getting progressively pickled and ending the evening with an oily, unappetising commodity (human or takeaway). It is the treatment of girls in clubs that I cannot abide, in particular the way club nights portray young women in their promotions.



A good example is the "Carnage" club nights that are held across the country. These nights are seen as the holy grail of clubbing by student partygoers. For ten pounds you receive all sorts of discounts and free entry into various clubs around your city. You also receive a "Carnage" T-shirt, which girls are expected to customise into crop tops, the shorter the better. Note how it is expecte - it really isn't the done thing to wear your "Carnage" T-shirt the normal way. If you don’t look like Britney Spears circa "Baby One More Time" you have a problem.



This is just the tip of the iceberg as far as what girls are expected to wear and act on such nights. The recent Carnage night held here in Liverpool had the lovely theme of "Pimps and Hoes". The boys naturally got to dress up in a very tongue-in-cheek manner, with fur coats and feathered hats. On the other hand, the girls’ costume theme was not designed to be humourous but humiliating. When the theme of the night Liverpool city councillor Rachael O’Byrne commented: "The theme is blatant in its sexism and perpetuates the objectification and exploitation of women." She went on to argue that "Themes such as 'Pimps and Hoes' sexualise women's inequality and creates a climate where rape culture is trivialised."

You could argue that the promoters of Carnage were not trying to degrade women, but were rather empowering them with a theme that promotes a pride in how you look. However, it is clear to see that this is not the case. Club culture itself promotes the sexualisation of women to a degree where it is no longer about empowering women, but degrading them.

It is worse to think that these club nights are aimed predominantly at Freshers, some of whom are quite shy and find the thought of dressing like a "hoe" to be the stuff of nightmares. Not only is it distressing but it conveys a message to new students that dressing like that on a night out is the status quo and if you do not conform then you will be outcast. Therefore, not only are these nights degrading but they are also playing on the insecurities of young women.

It is only ever empowering to wear attire like this if you yourself have chosen to wear it. The Slut Walk marches contrast well with the concept of Carnage nights. The women who participated in the marches were told not to wear provocative clothing at night as it could lead to rape. They marched for the right to wear what they choose without fear of intimidation or violence. It should always be about choice, not about what club promoters or the media think you should look.

As a young woman, I could do without the constant bombardment of advertisements, magazine covers and music videos inferring how I should look. I, along with the majority of young women in this country, constantly feel the pressure to be thin and "beautiful", or whatever society’s idea of beauty is.

Tina Fey explained society’s skewed view of how a woman should look when she said "Now every girl is expected to have Caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits."

Note how she also uses the word "expected". Why are women still expected to look a certain way? Club nights that are aimed at students are only serving to continue the objectification of women and promoting the idea that this is the way it should be.
 

Club night themes often perpetuate the objectification and exploitation of women. Photograph: Getty Images
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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser