"'[H]aul videos' . . . consist of girls videotaping themselves showing the world what they just bought at the mall. Like, they go home, plop down in front of their webcams, and pull their new purchases out of shopping bags. And discuss each item in way too much detail . . . Haul vloggers seem to be primarily of one species: the girl who flatirons her hair, wears too-thick eye shimmer up to her eyebrows, drowns in eyeliner, and gets her brows waxed regularly. She also wears trendy-but-ugly nail polish and probably gets chemical peels at regular monthly intervals. Haul vloggers seem to favor, typically, cheap stores like Forever 21 and Target. Also, they don't ever seem to wear half the trendy crap they're constantly buying. And to think these people think they need this stuff, when what they need most of all are lives, hobbies, jobs, maybe cats.As an example of haul vlogging, The Cut offered this popular video - apparently viewed nearly 8,000 times when the post was published.
The haul vlogger ChanelBlueSatin, a 22 year-old "Blogger, Youtuber, teacher, model, and wife!" from Texas, was so incensed by The Cut's characterization of her that she made this response video:
Last week, I posted about the backlash against fashion bloggers and what this backlash might suggest about the shifting meanings of fashion's democratization. The Cut's review of haul vloggers is yet another example of this backlash. But what's particularly interesting about this kerfuffle between ChanelBlueSatin and The Cut (mostly its readers now rather than the blogger Amy Odell who has since issued a mea culpa to the vlogger) is the ways in which the response calls Odell out for the misogynistic tone of her post:
Shouldn't the editor of New York magazine try to be inspiring to women rather than bashing other women? I mean, shouldn't they try to report on factual information rather than accusations based on outward appearances? . . . Bottom line is I respect the editor for having an interest in us beauty gurus on YouTube but I don't respect the fact that she took a negative spin on it. Listen, there's a whole lot of hate in this world so let's just stop hating and start loving again. So keep the peace.While the vlogger misidentifies Odell as the "editor" of New York magazine (Odell is the magazine's fashion blogger) and misrepresents the blog post as a "featured article," she is right to feel gender bashed by Odell and especially the readers who commented on the blog post. There's a lot of "dumb girl fashion/capitalist victim" talk that dismisses fashion consumerism as feminine stupidity. (Click here for another example of this as well as Susie Bubble's response.) We've posted about the stupidity of this line of logic but for a summation of the significance of fashion that is so spot-on that I wish we had written it, see Good Morning Midnight's post, which Mimi has also cited in a previous post. (See especially the paragraph that begins, "Would the world be a better place without Uggs and Ed Hardy? Probably." - a blogger after my own heart.) Moreover, the classist strain of Odell's evaluation of ChanelBlueSatin and haul vloggers in general is incredibly ugly. Odell seems most bothered not by haul vlogging as such but by the inauthenticity of haul vloggers who shop at down-market stores like Forever21 and "wears too-thick eye shimmer up to her eyebrows, drowns in eyeliner, and . . . wears trendy-but-ugly nail polish."
Yet, how does ChanelBlueSatin's call for peace (among women) square with her self-identification as a "beauty guru"? How is the mastery over one's image and body (the real commodity beauty and style gurus sell) the means and measure of pop-feminist inspiration, according to this vlogger? Put another way, how are material entitlements to Forever21 jewelry and teeth whitening strips coextensive with a moral discourse about love and inspiration among women?
Unfortunately, ChanelBlueSatin's pop-feminism is commodified rather than politicized in consumer culture. It is, as Sarah Banet-Weiser describes postfeminism, a "commodity-driven empowerment." More from Banet-Weiser's essay "What's Your Flava?": "As a contemporary social and political movement, then, feminism has been rescripted (though not necessarily disavowed) so as to allow its smooth incorporation into the world of commerce and corporate culture."
As a self-professed "beauty guru," ChanelBlueSatin as well as the growing cadre of fashion bloggers, vloggers, television personalities, and print media authors of the what-to-wear/what-not-to-wear makeover variety disenables precisely the humanist feminist project she claims to be leading. The relationship between the makeover guru and makeoveree is an inherently hierarchical one that is based not simply on an uneven distribution of skills (shopping, styling, etc.) but rather an uneven distribution of personhood based on the apparent mastery of or incompetence about dominant codes of beauty and behavior. The subject "in need" of the expertise of the lifestyle guru is imagined as a deficient person - a person who lacks self-confidence, self-esteem, and self-worth - and thus, in need of correction. I've cited Brenda Weber's account of the role of the fashion/beauty guru before and she's useful here again:
A new and improved appearance will not only make the woman more congruent with larger codes of beauty, but will increase her confidence and thus her personal power. In order to gain access to this form of power, however, makeover subjects (often called "victims," "targets," "marks") must submit fully to style authorities."So while ChanelBlueSatin's self-identification as a "beauty guru" made me giggle, it is worth recalling that being a lifestyle guru is serious economic and cultural political business that is also ideological and disciplinary. The social relationship of lifestyle gurus to their subjects is one of casual, consensual, neoliberal domination. As Tania Lewis, the editor of a wonderful special issue on the topic of makeover television in the journal Continuum (volume 22.4) explains: "As government seeks to devolve responsibility for welfare to individuals, television, and in particular what they term 'life intervention' formats . . . can be seen to play an increasingly central role in inducting viewers into new neoliberal modes of self-governing citizenship."
The Internet, which is quickly surpassing the television as the primary medium of visual and consumer culture, makes "life intervention" ideologies especially appealing. Whereas television is generally understood to be a top-down medium controlled by a handful of profit-seeking corporations, the prevailing logic about the Internet is that it is an inherently democratic form in which ordinary people participate in the structuring and content-building of new cultural publics. And indeed, the celebrity of bloggers and vloggers like Tavi Gevinson and ChanelBlueSatin are particular to the way the Internet works. What is especially appealing about these "gurus" is that they are ordinary people, people whose person and style of modern personhood seem to be easily accessible. As embodiments of the democratization of fashion, the figure of the citizen blogger/vlogger occludes the uneven access to commodities and communication technologies between makeover gurus and makeoverees (both Gevinson and ChanelBlueSatin, for example, are privy to the deep pockets of fashion and media companies) and thus conceals the ways in which the promise of self-invention is shaped and limited by one's successful self-governing and normativizing of body, image, and behavior.