On the Politics of Lipstick

Victory Red lipstick by Elizabeth Arden

 No lipstick will win the war. But it symbolises why we're fighting. 

I.

Can we ever maintain a pure distinction between aesthetics and politics? I don't think so. In fact, it seems to me that questions to do with art, fashion, and the extraordinary profusion of forms and ideas belonging to modern culture are always at the same time questions to do with power and ways of living in the world; what I would term philosophical questions.       

And so, the question of cosmetics, for example, is just as important as a question concerning the economy. Examining our own thinking and discourse around the simple act of wearing lipstick allows us not merely to stage a strategic engagement with historical fascism, but to confront also the molecular fascism that exists in us all.   

In a preface to Anti-Oedipus, Foucault asks: How does one keep from being fascist? How do we rid our speech and our acts, our hearts and our pleasures, of fascism? It isn't easy. But there are a number of things one can do (or not do) and a number of things one needs to watch out for.

For example, it's wise to exercise caution before exclusively tying an ideal of Beauty to Nature and to Truth (and thus also to the Good). It doesn't necessarily make you a Nazi if you do so and believe chapped lips have some kind of transcendental superiority - it might mean, rather, that you're a Platonist, a puritan, or simply a sad militant always on the lookout for signs of decadence - but it's not coincidental that the Nazis did precisely this ... 


II.

As soon as they gained power in 1933, the Nazis not only started to prepare for war and to persecute the Jews, they also attempted to control every aspect of women's lives, including how they looked.

Although Hitler wanted German women to be the best-dressed in Europe, trousers were out (too unfeminine) and so was the use of fur in fashion (too cruel). He also disapproved of hair dye, thought perfume disgusting, and hated makeup - particularly lipstick, which he never tired of telling everyone was made from waste animal fat.

For the Führer, the fashions coming out of Paris, pioneered by designers like Chanel, encouraged an unnaturally slender (boyish-looking) silhouette; that was no good, as he wanted German women to be physically robust breeding sows; all hips and tits and no cigarettes, paint, or powder. Aryan beauty would be wholesome, clean, and fresh-faced; the antithesis of that artificial and androgynous look favoured by the Neue Frauen parading around Berlin during the Weimar period.    

Thus it was that the Allies - whether they liked it or not - were obliged to affirm the use of cosmetics. If loose lips sunk ships, then painted red lips would provide the kiss of death to the Third Reich. 

British women, therefore, applied makeup  - even though it became an increasingly scarce commodity traded on the black market - as a patriotic duty. It was what we might term an essential non-essential and even government officials realised that lipstick mattered as much to women as tobacco mattered to men.  

American girls - including those serving in the armed forces or working on factory lines - also continued to wear their lipstick with pride in order to retain their femininity, boost morale, and stick it to Hitler. Shades including Victory Red and Fighting Red were created by cosmetic companies such as Elizabeth Arden keen to do their bit for the war effort.

Feminists still celebrate J. Howard Miller's iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter, but it's often overlooked that she always had perfect makeup and never surrendered her right to be glamorous as well as strong and free.         

See: 

Michel Foucault, Preface to Anti-Oedipus, by Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem and Helen R. Lane, (University of Minnesota Press, 1983), pp. xi-xiv. 

Marlen Komar, 'Makeup and War Are More Intricately Connected Than You Realized', Bustle (28 Oct 2017): click here to read online.

Sandra Lawrence, 'Beetroot and boot-polish: How Britain's women faced World War 2 without make-up', The Telegraph (3 March 2015): click here to read online.

Elizabeth Nicholas, 'The Little-Known Lipstick Battle of World War II',  Culture Trip (14 June 2018): click here to read online.

Jane Thynne, 'Fashon and the Third Reich', History Today (12 March 2013): click here to read online. 

Note: this post was written in response to a series of comments on an earlier post on lips and lipstick: click here. 

Speak no Evil

Image from gracefyt.blogspot.com

It is important - if you wish to defeat fascism - to be sensitive to the use and misuse of language: to understand how the terms we use, the metaphors we subscribe to, the empty clichés and elevated banalities of idealism that we fall back on, essentially determine the world we inhabit and the kind of people we become. And it's important to remember that whilst sticks and stones may break bones, only words are really murderous.

Victor Klemperer, a professor of French Literature at Dresden University until the Nuremberg Laws obliged him, as a Jew, to resign his post in 1935, knew this when he bravely documented the role of certain key words and phrases within Nazi Germany. In The Language of the Third Reich, he demonstrated how language, culture, and history are intimately related and how a violent rhetoric demanding racial purity and Lebensraum resulted in obscene bloodshed and the digging of mass graves.

Klemperer rightly understood that it isn't only actions that need to be examined and combated, but also what he calls the Nazi cast of mind and its way of thinking rooted in the language of hate. He writes: "Nazism permeated the flesh and blood of people through single words, idioms and sentence structures which were imposed on them in a million repetitions ... taken on board mechanically and unconsciously." [14]

Denazification, if it is ever to be accomplished, is thus a procedure that must be carried out at the level of micro-politics; a fact recognized by Michel Foucault, who, writing in a preface to Anti-Oedipus, argued that the major and strategic adversary remained fascism: "And not only historical fascism, the fascism of Hitler and Mussolini ... but also the fascism in us all, in our heads, and in our everyday behaviour ..." The key task is therefore to learn how to "rid our speech and our acts, our hearts and our pleasures, of fascism" [xiii].

But this is no small task. For it involves the revaluation of everyday language; exposing seemingly innocent and innocuous words commonly used by all on the one hand, whilst giving formerly pejorative terms positive virtue on the other hand. It perhaps also obliges us to coin neologisms and find ways to speak with sensitivity and a certain softness of tone - unlike the Nazis, who endlessly shouted the same things and spoke with one voice that was as loud, monotonous, and threatening as the barking of an Alsatian dog.

In saying this, am I promoting a form of what reactionary idiots like to characterize sneeringly as political correctness? Perhaps.

I am certainly saying we all need to mind our language and be a wise monkey like Iwazaru. For although those who peddle hate speech often like to do so in the name of free speech, the latter is rarely contrary to propriety and good manners.

- Victor Klemperer, The Language of the Third Reich, trans. Martin Brady, (Continuum, 2006).
- Michel Foucault, 'Preface' to Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, trans. Robert Hurley et al, (The Athlone Press, 1984).