Abstract
Makeover television shows are notorious for presenting oppressive and unrealistic images of women, but a sizable portion of makeover contestants are men. What does this mean for the impact of such shows on gender culture? Using data collected from transcripts of five different programs, we find that gender, power, and heterosexuality intertwine within makeover plots in three ways. First, makeover shows link the promise of personal transformation to uncovering an accentuated femininity or masculinity lurking beneath surface-level shortcomings. Second, shows featuring male contestants make status and wealth central to their transformations. While female contestants focus on their bodies, men are offered opportunities and encouragement to engage in ‘manhood acts’ (Schrock and Schwalbe, 2009): deliberate efforts to claim membership in the privileged gender group. Third, makeovers rely upon heteronormative understandings of masculinity and femininity as opposites that attract. For men in particular, heterosexual relationships (whether real or imagined) provide the evidence within each episode that their makeovers have successfully rehabilitated their masculinity and their gender privilege. Thus the presence of men in the makeover genre reifies existing ideologies of gender inequality in which social status is a requisite component of masculinity, deference to men is a requisite component of femininity, and a male-dominated heterosexuality is a requisite component of both.
Keywords
Introduction
In less than 60 minutes, a reality makeover show can transform a sad, unfulfilled, plain-Jane housewife into a beaming, self-confident starlet – and transfix audiences in the process. Such transformations are infamous among feminist scholars and social scientists for directing symbolic violence toward women, as they promote largely unattainable ideals of female beauty. However, many makeover programs feature male contestants, and existing scholarship does not direct adequate analytical attention to the meaning of men’s makeovers. In this paper, we ask: are male images equally oppressive, or do they escape the pressure to achieve unattainable perfection?
Existing work on male contestants in the makeover genre offers tentative support to both sides of this puzzle. Some analyses support the oppression hypothesis, finding that men on makeover programs are subject to treatment identical to that of women (e.g. Weber, 2009). All contestants are required to hand themselves over to makeover experts, and that subjection causes them to occupy a passive and feminized position, regardless of gender. Other analyses support the possibility of escape, arguing that the presence of men on makeover shows actually signals the flexibility of contemporary masculinity (e.g. Feasey, 2008). Rather than valorizing a single version of masculinity, the makeover process demonstrates that a variety of masculinities can all lead to an improved life.
To arbitrate between these contradictory possibilities, we consider both female and male contestants in the same analysis. Unlike the existing sociological literature on the makeover genre, which typically devotes attention to only women or only men, this approach allows us to understand the ways in which makeover programs package gender as a relational system (Connell, 1987). In so doing, we find that makeover shows do not merely provide instructions for producing femininity or masculinity on their own terms; instead, makeover programs actively construct and define femininity and masculinity in relation to each other as oppositional categories that fuel a system of compulsory heterosexuality (Rich, 1980) and the patriarchal power that underlies it. For male contestants in particular, the makeover process offers an opportunity to engage in what Schrock and Schwalbe (2009) term ‘manhood acts’: concerted efforts to enact hierarchies of gendered power and claim membership in the privileged gender group.
In the sections that follow, we offer a theoretical context for these empirical issues with a review of the existing literatures on makeover television programming, gender in the media, and the sociology of masculinities. We provide a brief description of our methodological approach, and we conduct our analysis in three parts: the linking of personal and professional success to a heightened display of femininity or masculinity, the importance of male privilege and power to the makeover process, and the centrality of heterosexual relationships to makeover definitions of a successful life. We conclude with a recapitulation of our findings and their implications for theories of gender inequality more broadly.
Literature Review
Meaning-making on reality makeover television
Television is a primary source of cultural information in the contemporary United States (Giroux, 1994). Though small-screen audiences are no longer conceptualized as ‘cultural dopes’ who passively internalize media messages without consciously processing them (Hall, 1981; Radway, 1984; Schudson, 1989), television persists in the sociological literature as an important source of cultural beliefs, ideologies, and values (Gamson et al., 1992; Gerbner et al., 2002; Grindstaff and Turow, 2006). Unusually potent in this regard is the genre known as ‘reality television’. While there is ongoing debate about what constitutes an accurate definition of reality television due to the constant expansion and development of new program offerings (Montemurro, 2008), scholarly work about the genre – regardless of the operational definition used – indicates that reality television is an especially potent transmitter of cultural messages to television viewers 1 (Wright et al., 1995; Gamson, 1998; Grindstaff, 2002).
Three characteristics collude to make reality programs unusually effective in reaching and influencing their audiences. First, reality television makes a discursive claim by definition to be ‘real’ or reflect ‘reality’ in its most genuine form. The ancestry of the modern-day reality genre can be traced back to the emergence of television as a consumer product, but only recently has the genre begun to be advertised explicitly as a ‘genuine’ or ‘authentic’ representation of reality outside the television screen (Friedman, 2002; Holmes and Jermyn, 2004). In other words, reality television is unique in the extent to which it brings ‘ordinary’ people into focus and purports to offer a candid look into their everyday experiences. Second, overt emotional expression is central to reality television programming. Deeply affective moments in which reality stars engage in confession, exhibitionism, and emotional revelation are necessary means to shoring up semblances of ‘authenticity’ (Biressi and Nunn, 2005; Skeggs and Wood, 2012). This combination of relatable characters and emotional vulnerability captures the attention of viewers and induces them to recognize reality television themes in their own lives. Third, reality television programs craft ambiguous and permeable boundaries between shows and real life. This spillover keeps audiences engaged through their phones or computers when episodes of reality programs are not currently airing, but more importantly to producers, it enables a more undetectable insertion of commercial messages into television programs themselves. This deliberate, profit-driven strategy helps to ensure the continued financial success of many popular reality shows (Murray and Ouellette, 2004).
Within the unwieldy collection of programs that comprises reality television, the makeover subgenre best exemplifies this commercial tendency. The strategic acquisition of goods, services, and skills are clearly linked to the promise of a better life in each and every makeover script. This is the linchpin around which makeover shows turn: if there are problems with one’s life, they can all be remediated with proper attention to one’s appearance and self-fashioning (Lancioni, 2010). However, underlying these messages about the possibilities of positive life transformation are deeper messages about status, value, and social class. The political logic of makeover shows is not simply an abstract quest toward self-actualization in all aspects of a contestant’s life; rather, the ultimate goal is often to make a contestant more successful in the labor market (Ouellette and Hay, 2008). Numerous scholars have identified this as evidence that only one form of capital carries value on makeover programs, and that form is a narrowly-defined set of high-status symbols and messages used to convey middle-class legitimacy (Skeggs and Wood, 2012). Thus, as makeover programs inscribe normative class regimes onto the bodies of the contestants being transformed, they likewise reinforce their relevance to broader cultural narratives about what constitutes a valuable life.
Gender performance, embodied oppression and media images
Alongside social class, gender occupies a prominent position within the cultural messages that reality makeover shows disseminate. Much like the analyses of class-based messages described in the preceding section, theories about the place of gender on television emphasize the oppressive subtext lurking beneath banal messages about happiness and fulfillment. For decades, scholars across disciplines have documented the ways in which representations of gender in the media negatively and disproportionately impact women. Research has repeatedly shown that the television medium persists in generating unrealistic portrayals of women’s lives and reducing them to feminine stereotypes and caricatures (e.g. Press, 1991; Wolf, 1991; Cavender et al., 1999).
Recent content analyses of reality television identify makeover programs as unusually problematic in this regard, as they employ a range of rhetorical strategies to hide the systematic devaluation of women. Some point to narratives of identity, in which one’s ‘inner beauty’ must be brought out through interventions ranging from surgery to wardrobe overhauls (e.g. Banet-Weiser and Portwood-Stacer, 2006; Heyes, 2007). Others note that stories of empowerment mask the painful realities of cosmetic surgery, which is overwhelmingly advertised to and sought by women (e.g. Tait, 2007). Regardless of the details of each script, it is well established that makeover shows promote the ‘ideal female body’ as a commodity that can be obtained by finding the right haircut, the right clothes, and the right plastic surgeon (Gallagher and Pecot-Hebert, 2007; Harrison, 2003; Deery, 2004; Pitts-Taylor, 2007). In doing so, makeover programs reproduce three social problems. First, they reify the notion that a woman’s worth hinges on how she uses and fashions her body (Skeggs, 2001; McRobbie, 2004). Second, in presenting bodies as individual problems with individual solutions, makeover shows do nothing to contest broader normative constructions of femininity (Frith et al., 2010). Third, in emphasizing improving the self via improving the body, makeover shows make the performative character of social class and gender invisible and thus cause such middle-class visions of femininity to seem natural and essential to an ‘authentic’ self (Weber, 2009).
There exists much less analytic attention to the presence of male contestants in the makeover genre, and when men and masculinity are considered, a dazzling array of interpretations ensues. One subset of authors treats the appearance of men on makeover programs as identical to women, as the class- and gender-based proscriptions embedded in makeover scripts do damage to female and male contests alike (e.g. Franco, 2008; Weber, 2009). A second subset argues that makeover programs open up new possibilities for contemporary manhood. In these accounts, makeover images of men enable more flexible approaches to masculinity than were previously possible (e.g. Feasey, 2008). A final subset understands the same messages about masculinity as a new iteration of familiar hierarchies of gendered value. For them, reality scripts and contestants themselves go to great lengths to reassert the boundary between a desirable form of commercialized masculinity and other, more marginal masculinities (e.g. Carroll, 2008; Broomfield, 2011; Quail, 2011) or the specter of homosexuality (e.g. Papacharissi and Fernback, 2008; Shugart, 2008; Johnson, 2010). Given this variety of incompatible accounts, we thus ask: do male makeover contestants indeed experience the same oppressive treatment imposed on women, do they signal positive changes for gender culture writ large, or do they represent something else altogether?
Men, masculinity and heteronormativity
Sociological theories of masculinity offer tentative purchase on this puzzle. Of central importance to such work is the concept of ‘hegemonic masculinity’, defined loosely as a normative and idealized set of social practices designed to maintain dominance on the basis of gender (Connell, 1987, 1995). Although the paradigm has been revised since its inception, two primary themes have remained salient. First, multiple masculinities exist, and they exist in hierarchical relation to one another (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). Though definitions of those masculinities are predicated on other social categories and can change over time, they always function in relation to whichever form of masculinity is dominant in a given social context (Hennen, 2008). Moreover, there are typically tremendous rewards, both social and economic, to enacting a more privileged form of masculinity (Logan, 2010). Second, heterosexuality is a critical dividing line between dominant masculinities and subordinated masculinities. Boundary work to maintain that line can be literal, as is often the case when straight men direct discrimination and harassment at gay men. However, it can also be a symbolic act, designed to thwart off accusations of homosexuality, whether real (Kimmel and Mahler, 2003) or jokingly imagined (Pascoe, 2007).
Newer contributions refocus attention on one of the original driving factors for sociological attention to masculinity: better understanding the reproduction of gender inequality. This return to a ‘gender relations’ (Connell, 1987) approach emphasizes the ways in which femininity and masculinity are co-constructed in social action as unequal social categories. That is, masculinity becomes defined as whatever actions in a given cultural milieu ensure a dominant position for men and a subordinate position for women. Schrock and Schwalbe (2009) name such actions ‘manhood acts’ and define them as what men 2 ‘do to create, maintain, and claim membership in a dominant gender group’ (p. 281). This concept retains the flexibility of the multiple masculinities literature, as manhood acts ‘can vary historically and culturally’ (p. 280), but it also re-centers gender inequality, as manhood acts are ‘inherently about upholding patriarchy’ (p. 287). Heterosexuality, too, remains an important nexus of domination in this understanding of masculinity, but it becomes more than a mere method of control used by men against other men. Rather, ‘women become props that men use to affirm a heterosexual identity’ (p. 288) and uphold their privileged social position. In short, attempting to theorize masculinity on its own terms is a necessarily incomplete approach; a more adequate conceptualization of men and masculinity must also account for femininity, patriarchal dominance, and the heterosexual matrix that binds all of these entities together (see also Schippers, 2007).
Drawing from these ideas, we suggest that what is at stake for men on reality makeover shows is learning how to successfully showcase their privileged social position over other men and, more importantly, over women. The appearance of men in the makeover subgenre thus does not offer promising evidence of egalitarian social transformation but instead cements a vision of male dominance – and male-dominated heterosexuality – as required for the optimally-fulfilling life which the makeover narrative promises to men and women alike.
Data and Methods
In order to investigate these issues, we transcribed and coded five episodes of each of the five most well-known reality makeover shows airing from 2002 to 2008. In addition to popularity and availability, our series selection criteria required that the shows complete transformations in single episodes and that contestants not compete with each other for access to makeover tools (including cash). Thus, the shows we selected were: What Not to Wear (WNTW), How to Look Good Naked (HTLGN), Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style (TGGS), Extreme Makeover (EM), and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (QE). We transcribed each episode in our sample 3 by typing collectively into instant messaging software. At the beginning of each episode, we assigned ourselves one or more characters whose lines we would type. The instant messaging software, then, collected all the parts of our ‘conversation’ into a single document containing the script of each show.
To code our data, we made an initial deductive pass through the transcripts, coding phrases from the data based on themes from the literature described above: self, gender, and the market. As we recorded key phrases from every show under these headers, we did so freehand in colored marker on a coding sheet that allowed us to arrange unmatched phrases inductively in clusters that related to each other. At the same time, we also used different colors to indicate other information, such as the gender of the contestant. In addition, we marked out spaces for new themes as they emerged. As these new ideas began appearing, they needed to be coded in relation to the hypothesized categories. We used axial coding methods (Corbin and Strauss, 1990) in order to account for relationships among coding categories, strategies of action and interaction, causal relationships, and outcomes. Our final pass through the data was to do selective and theoretical coding. We passed this coding work back and forth to ensure inter-coder reliability and discussed discrepancies as a group.
Analysis and Discussion
Gender normativity: Diagnosing failures of femininity or masculinity
Each of the five shows opens with a brief introduction to the contestant(s) and an appraisal of the personal or professional shortcomings that mark the current state of their lives. This quickly evolves into a pointed assessment of contestants’ current bodies, wardrobes, or self-concepts and almost always relies upon explicitly gendered language. Many of these critiques describe the need to uncover a hidden femininity or masculinity lurking beneath surface deficiencies. The hosts of TGGS and WNTW often describe their female contestants as having ‘beautiful’ bodies or ‘great figures’ that are being hidden from view by wardrobe defects, while friends and family members of QE contestants often opine, as one man’s sister did, that their loved one is ‘a handsome guy, and it doesn’t really show’ (QE2). Equally salient, though, are attempts to curb contestants’ organic bodily displays and preferred modes of dress. While cultivating an underlying femininity or masculinity is a goal stated at the outset of numerous makeovers, gendered excesses which project the wrong sort of feminine or masculine visage are also frequent targets. Mike, for instance, exemplifies many male contestants on EM when he complains of the self-consciousness he feels when unclothed: ‘With a shirt off, you can see that I have a lot of fur on my back’ (EM3).
The most egregious offenses are the ways in which any evidence of masculinity is identified as a problem for female contestants, while the same goes for femininity in male contestants. Innumerable female contestants are plucked, tweezed, and otherwise professionally depilated on seemingly every inch of their skin aside from the top of their heads, 4 while the most notable change to men is the opposite. For Eric, his long hair ‘worn in a ponytail’ (QE5) is an obstacle to his plans to propose to his girlfriend, and for Wayne, a friend believes that ‘he would probably attract a whole new group of people’ (QE2) if he were to discard his similarly long locks. In one unusually stark example, Valerie’s friend Ann confesses to the cameras that her ‘masculine look has plagued her since childhood’, and Valerie herself joins in to add that her ‘nose would be alright for a man’ (EM2). Likewise, as Mike expresses his wishes about his desired makeover, he focuses in on his chest as an area of immediate concern. While his fiancée, who is undergoing a makeover at the same time, longs for breast augmentation surgery, Mike says, ‘I’d like a boob job, myself. I’d like to lose mine’ (EM3). Thus, the messages about gender on makeover programs seek to discipline contestants’ ‘natural’ proclivities in order to excavate an idealized femininity or masculinity – and one that is wholly free of the other.
Underlying this comparable treatment of men and women, however, are striking gender differences in the rationales offered for seeking life transformation. Consistent with much existing feminist critique of the makeover genre, female contestants are expected to view looking good and flaunting their bodies as worthy ends in and of themselves. Hosts Stacy and Clinton of WNTW ask questions like, ‘You are tiny under there! Why would you lose all that weight and not want to show it off?’ (WNTW2) or wonder aloud if they can ‘force out the sexy star underneath this army of oversized clothes’ (WNTW1). In contrast, critiques of male contestants are much more often tied to forms of prestige, status and, above all, wealth. Eric is described in the early moments of his makeover as ‘practically an executive at his job right now’, but his problem is that ‘he just needs to fit the part a bit more’ (QE5). Thus, for men, what is at stake in the makeover process is being able to secure the social power that should be theirs or, at the very least, cultivate a heightened masculinity that can compensate for their perceived lack of social power.
Masculine dominance: Re-centering privilege through the makeover process
As each program progresses from naming contestants’ problems to actively rectifying them, gender differences in the treatment of contestants multiply dramatically. While talk with female contestants tends to obfuscate the financial dimensions 5 of their makeovers, instead favoring explanations about how and why to showcase particular bodily attributes, the conversations shared between makeover hosts and male contestants foreground social standing. For instance, QE contestant Jeff Lubie says of himself, ‘Little Jeffie’s gotta grow up and move on’ (QE4), and the theme of updating his appearance and surroundings to look like a mature adult recurs throughout the remainder of the episode. The narrative arc in that single episode reflects a broader trend observable in the vast majority of transformations made to the lives of male contestants: instead of being instructed in how to flaunt their physical characteristics, 6 men undergo revisions of their personal presentations and environment that allow them to look as if they possess greater status and wealth.
On QE, contestants begin the work of the makeover with a series of confessions to the panel of hosts, and they typically articulate economic concerns as paramount in their willingness to undergo the process ahead of them. For some contestants, like Todd, being unable to adequately manage their personal finances feels like an obstacle to personal fulfillment. He talks openly about ‘want[ing] a career and want[ing] a career goal’, and finds it ‘pretty frustrating’ to not have them. He continues, ‘The bank of mom and dad is very good to me. They’re always there for me, but I have to say that I hate it. I feel very guilty’ (QE1). For other contestants, monetary concerns interfere with their ability to move forward in their romantic relationships. Eric, who wants to propose to his girlfriend, recounts to the QE hosts that ‘getting a divorce destroyed my finances’ and that he needs help to figure out ‘where my money is going and how to grow it a little bit more’ (QE5). Contestants often look distraught when verbalizing these sentiments, and high-school student Ronnie epitomizes that discomfort when he brings up his girlfriend, saying, ‘She’s paying for everything for the prom, and it makes me feel, like, really awkward’ (QE3). Given a cultural standard of masculinity in which wealth is an important signifier of status and success (Kimmel, 2005), these comments reflect a generalized desire on the part of male makeover contestants to recoup or achieve the economic markers of manhood that they do not currently possess.
Contestants are not alone in expressing such fiscal concerns; hosts also comment on deficiencies of wealth, whether real or perceived. In some cases, this linguistic contrast between female and male makeover participants can be as simple as a single word. Linda, one mom nominated for a mini-makeover, has her hair dyed and cut alongside her daughter into a style described succinctly as ‘hot’, whereas in the same episode Steve receives a similar dye-and-cut procedure into something more ‘distinguished’ (EM1). Lengthier comments reflect similar differences. During one episode of EM, Geri hears tips about how to negotiate her ‘fuller bustline’, using ‘plunging v-neck tops’ to give her ‘just a hint of sex appeal and the perfect amount of coverage’, but her husband Ethan receives a much more detailed education about ‘classic Italian men’s tailoring, luxurious leathers, supple cashmeres’ (EM5), and their usefulness for evenings out on the town. Thus, while women are inundated with shortcuts to look curvier and/or thinner, men experience opportunities to absorb cultural capital alongside the more overt visual markers of status each makeover program provides. As a result, makeovers provide male contestants with an opportunity to engage in what Schrock and Schwalbe (2009) call manhood acts: behaviors organized around ‘claiming privilege, eliciting deference, and resisting exploitation’ (p. 281) that ensure their membership in the dominant gender group.
For some men, including Ethan, ensuring an appropriate aesthetic distinction between work attire and evening attire is their goal. In response to the first outfit he tries on, his personal shopper instantly opines, ‘It’s definitely different than your uniform’ (EM5), and the chasm between his work uniform and his new wardrobe subsequently becomes a recurring theme in their interactions. Personal care and grooming are also identified as important methods of distancing men’s appearances from the work they do. Much is made of Riley’s hands during his mini-makeover. Because he works in a motorcycle shop during the day, his makeover team immediately hones in on his inadequate fingernail care: ‘Your nails should always be clean. One of the most unattractive things for a man is for them to have dirt under their nails’ (EM1). What is most notable about these two particular interactions is that the actual spending of money is de-emphasized. Nail care is a profoundly inexpensive life change when compared to the average makeover 7 on EM, and Ethan is even told outright, ‘All you have to do is invest in one great piece of clothing that makes you feel good. It can be a jacket, the shoes, anything. You don’t have to spend thousands’ (EM5). In other words, amidst an emphasis on knowledge and skill acquisition in men’s makeovers, the appearance of status and wealth can trump the actual possession of such qualities.
The ownership of actual wealth, however, does remain crucial to men’s makeover narratives, and this is most apparent in the unusually class-inflected transformation of WNTW contestant Eddie. Within moments of the show’s start, a voiceover announces that Eddie’s ‘charity case style’ is ‘poached from thrift stores’. Hosts Stacy and Clinton echo this sentiment within moments of meeting him, announcing that ‘your friends and family think … you look like a guy without a job. Or without a home.’ For Eddie, at issue is not merely that he looks like a ‘vandal’ or like he might ‘kidnap a child’; his problem is located in the actual amount of his income he spends on clothes each year. After he recounts that he spends ‘about forty bucks’ at thrift shops at the beginning of each season ‘and then, like, twenty for the summer’, Stacy replies, ‘I think that’s the lowest number I’ve ever heard for an entire wardrobe.’ The cash-focused ‘shift from thrift’ theme of his episode persists until his final conversation with the hosts, in which they re-emphasize how important it is for him ‘to have nice, high-quality stuff’ (WNTW5) in his wardrobe. But as his wife’s amazement and tears make clear at the end of that episode, embedded in men’s lessons about how to augment their social status are deeper lessons about learning to perform the most potent manhood act of all: compulsory heterosexuality.
Compulsory heterosexuality: Evidence of successfully-reconstructed masculinity
As countless feminist scholars have asserted, both within sociology (e.g. Connell, 1987; Pierce, 1995; Schrock and Schwalbe, 2009) and in other fields (e.g. Chodorow, 1978; Rich, 1980; Butler, 1990), heterosexuality is the most definitional characteristic of masculine gender performance. Unsurprisingly, then, the most commonly invoked litmus test for personal success in the makeover genre is heterosexual romance. Many male contestants seek out or are nominated for makeover interventions either because they are currently failing at that test or wish to re-enter the dating pool after a long period of being single. Wayne’s long hair described above is but one item in a laundry list of concerns that are keeping him single, including an outdated wardrobe and ‘the ugliest wallpaper I’ve ever seen in my life’ (QE2). Similarly, widower Art describes himself as having ‘the soul of a thirty-year-old and the body of a seventy-year-old’. His EM hopes involve rectifying the signs of age on his body so that he can find ‘the right person’ to be with him for the rest of his live (EM1). Others are looking to take a next step in their existing romantic relationships – usually a marriage proposal – or to bring the spark back to their marriages. Riley’s wife nominates him for a mini-makeover because she’s ‘never seen him in a suit and tie’ and dreams of ‘being with somebody who just stepped out of GQ’ (EM2).
These comments become much more obviously pernicious when compared to the sorts of justifications made by and for female contestants’ heterosexual relationships. For many women, the critiques they issue toward themselves and hear from show hosts mimic this concern for heterosexual love and relationships, but they are much more often centered on the men in their lives than themselves. While men like Riley and WNTW contestant Eddie agree under pressure to acquiesce to their wives’ makeover nominations, women express feeling tremendous guilt for the current state of their bodies, wardrobes, and lives. For instance, Val says of herself, ‘I’m a woman, but I just don’t think I look enough like one’, and she goes on to add, ‘I’m married to this wonderful man, and I almost feel like I have cheated him out of a wife’ (EM2). A voiceover introduction on HTLGN describes contestant Shannon’s problems as rooted in ‘spending her over-packed days in an icky mommy uniform of t-shirts and jeans’, and that same voiceover links those clothing choices directly to her inability to be adequately ‘physical with her husband’ (HTLGN2). Even more dramatic differences ensue when children are discussed. Male contestants’ children will often collude in makeover commentary but rarely discussed as beneficiaries of their fathers’ makeovers. In contrast, having children is almost universally cited as a reason for female contestants to change. In trying to get ali to agree to his advice, Tim Gunn says of her cleavage, ‘You’re now married, and you have [children] Remy and Sky. It’s time to put away the big guns’ (TGGS2). Likewise, Carson says to Shannon, ‘You’re not ever gonna be some sort of skinny supermodel, and that’s okay. You’re a mom. You’ve got bigger priorities than walking down runways and looking hungry’ (HTLGN2). In all of these cases, female contestants need makeovers to better enact heterosexual, male-centric lives, in which they can be better wives to their husbands and, for Ali and Shannon, better mothers 8 to their children.
Potent messages about male dominance and heterosexual romance also populate intangible parts of men’s makeovers. For Wayne, a new haircut, new wardrobe, and new wallpaper collectively take up less screen time than does his interaction with a dating expert who describes herself as ‘man’s best friend’. She tells him that ‘the way to attract a woman is to be totally, rivetingly confident’ and that he must ‘get used to the fact that you are hot’. In her instruction about nonverbal behavior, she becomes even more explicit about how he should take charge with women: she encourages him to ‘undress’ her with his eyes, and when a woman meets his glance from across the room, he is taught to ‘take her’ without hesitation. If he masters such principles, she promises that ‘every woman’ (QE2) will want him. Art receives analogous wisdom from the dating expert he speaks with on EM. She notes that he walked into the room to meet her looking ‘down on himself and insecure’ and tells him that ‘nobody wants to see some schlump; they want to see a king’ before sending him back out to re-enter more confidently. In addition to instructions about ‘consistently look[ing] at their eyes’ and ‘smiles mean[ing] everything to a woman’, she also remarks that dominance is necessary to attract women, saying, ‘You are a man. You need to take control.’ Her suggestions for how to accomplish that include taking a woman to a familiar restaurant, paying for the meal, and half-standing ‘out of the chair to show respect for them leaving’. In fact, the connection between social status and heterosexual attractiveness does not remain tacit for Art: his dating expert notes that ‘class and money’ (EM4) are crucial for securing female attention.
This theme of male dominance within heterosexual relationships emerges yet again as makeovers come to a close. As Todd makes progress toward his weight loss goal, he makes direct eye contact with the camera and announces, ‘I’m starting to feel these [his biceps, to which he points] right here, so ladies, watch out, ’cause the new Todd Eastern is coming for you!’ (QE1). In doing so, he echoes the assertiveness that Art and Wayne are told they must cultivate to be romantically successful. Comparing QE contestant Eric’s marriage proposal to EM contestant Mary’s experience further highlights the extent to which male dominance appears crucial to successful makeovers. Much is made of Eric’s passion for medieval re-enactment, including his plan ‘to go to court’ and ask his ‘lady for her hand in marriage’ (EM5). During his episode, he is shown asking her father for her hand in marriage, which includes an explicit promise to take care of her for the rest of his life. Mary, on the other hand, is fully on the receiving end of patriarchal expectations. Her boyfriend flies to the EM premises to propose, saying, ‘Change your name, take mine. All you got to do is say yes.’ She subsequently describes his proposal during her reveal as ‘all of her dreams coming true’ (EM3), and the first thing she squeals to her gaggle of students upon her return to work as a teacher is that she’s engaged to be married. In short, while a heteronormative resolution is requisite for all contestants, logics of romantic success inform the content of that resolution differently for men and for women. While makeover shows encourage men to claim elevated social status in their new or improved relationships, women’s transformations largely earn them subordinate roles in comparable relationships.
Nowhere is that more evident than in each contestant’s final reveal to friends and family. The monetary cost of men’s makeovers is a central device around which their stories are structured, especially when it comes to learning how to properly spend money on others. For Jeff, the quintessential manhood act in his makeover journey is not a wardrobe overhaul or ridding his apartment of its ‘tube socks and beer’ smell. Instead, he aims to change from a man who had ‘never given her flowers, never bought her jewelry’ into the ‘romantic’, ‘marrying-type’ (QE4) able to execute the perfect marriage proposal. Over the course of his episode, he receives an education about diamonds, and he selects an extravagant necklace and engagement ring worth $10,000 for his soon-to-be fiancée. Ronnie, who had such palpable discomfort with his girlfriend covering the cost of their prom, is provided with a set of diamond earrings for his mother and a Tiffany charm bracelet for his girlfriend. Even Eric, who has the unusual fortune of meeting with a financial advisor on camera during the filming of his episode, learns that spending money on his partner is an ideal conduit for showing his love and appreciation to her. In addition to designing a custom engagement ring for her, he also receives advice about how to actualize their ‘number one dream’ (QE5) of saving for a house. These final gestures and gifts serve as final evidence that each made-over man has evolved into a properly masculine figure, able to spend money in ways that either attract women or cement their existing heterosexual relationships.
As a result, men are not alone in their production of manhood acts on reality makeover shows. Women on makeover shows are also critically important producers of manhood acts – whether they function as the evidence that a male contestant’s makeover was successful or they themselves are made over and therefore come to occupy a subsidiary position in a heterosexual relationship. In sum, then, men on makeover shows are neither as feminized nor as flexibly masculine as previous scholarship suggests. Instead, their presence as contestants reifies existing ideologies of gender inequality in which social status is a requisite component of masculinity, deference to men is a requisite component of femininity, and a male-dominated heterosexuality is a requisite component of both.
Conclusion and Implications
Thus, for both female and male contestants, we find that much of the makeover process appears similar. Plot lines identify the problems preventing contestants from reaching their true potential, prescribe and carry out costly interventions to fix those obstacles, and reveal the ‘one true self’ lying dormant the entire time. Amidst this focus on shopping and self-transformation, the makeover process induces contestants to highlight bodily gender cues and learn gender-specific skills so that they can maximize their success at romance, work, and self-esteem. As a result, makeover shows actively portray heightened femininity or heightened masculinity as necessary for a more successful life, and they conceal the performative character of gender (Butler, 1990) by describing contestants’ femininity or masculinity as a hidden characteristic that can be uncovered with the ‘right’ attitude, clothes, haircut, or surgical interventions.
However, we also find that made-over men and women are treated in categorically different ways. Consistent with existing feminist critiques of makeover shows, the women in our sample are indicted for not properly displaying their bodies. They learn how the modifications offered through surgery, shopping, and attitude adjustments can allow them to embody a more objectified, more sexualized, and thus more successful self. This treatment defines the social worth of women almost solely by their physical characteristics. In contrast, male contestants are counseled about the virtues of luxury goods and their use as evidence of social status. The same sorts of surgical and shopping interventions that contribute to oppression for women actually amplify social power and privilege for men by linking their newfound masculinity to the promise of more money, better jobs, and greater influence. Because of this, we argue that makeover shows help their male contestants perform ‘manhood acts’ (Schrock and Schwalbe, 2009): concerted efforts to (re)establish hierarchies of gendered power and membership in the privileged gender group. Thus, makeover shows promulgate unidimensional and limiting images of how to ‘do’ gender (West and Zimmerman, 1987) for both men and women, but these differences in rationale ultimately imbue men with agency and power that is not equally applied to women.
Moreover, makeover hosts and scripts routinely position heterosexual romantic success – in which those unequal opposites attract – as the ultimate goal of locating one’s ‘true’ self. Contestants’ failed pasts inevitably involve not displaying enough skin or status to attract desirable partners, and their imagined futures revolve around the promise that uncovering their normatively-gendered selves will lead to more (heterosexual) dates and more serious (heterosexual) relationships. For male contestants in particular, this foregrounding of heterosexual romance helps ‘compensate’ for and distance themselves from the perceived effeminacy or homosexuality of their makeover experience (Johnson, 2010). Thus, rather than oppressing men or opening up unlimited possibilities for expressing masculinity, we find that the treatment of men on makeover shows reproduces and contributes to broader cultural ideologies of a ‘natural’ and seemingly desirable gender order in which men are the most powerful, women experience considerable oppression, and heterosexual relationships continue to be the most important metric for measuring a self-actualized life.
While the popularity of reality makeover shows is waning, the roles of gender oppression and compulsory heterosexuality undoubtedly remain important in many other reality formats. Future research should devote attention to current and emerging reality formats, carefully exploring the relationship between gender ideologies and definitions of life success portrayed in newer programs. Especially important would be directing empirical question to the presence of queer contestants, both in newer iterations of the makeover genre and in other reality formats. On one hand, their presence may reduce heteronormative imperatives for reality contestants, but on the other hand, they may be subject to the same sorts of normalizing messages about romance and happiness as their straight counterparts are. Although it would certainly be useful to catalog the content of those other formats, future research should also study audiences, asking how viewers make sense of the gendered and sexual messages in the reality genre and import them (or not) into their own lives and imagined futures. Such work would be crucial to better understanding the real-world ramifications of the gender inequality and compulsory heterosexuality so often depicted in reality programming and outlined in this paper.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
For their valuable comments, the authors wish to thank Beth Eck, Sharon Hays, Charlotte Ryan, two anonymous reviewers and the participants at James Madison University seminars in sociology and in gender studies. We also would like to thank the James Madison University Department of Sociology and Anthropology and the College of Arts and Letters for supporting our travel to present this paper at an American Sociological Association panel where we received helpful feedback.
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
