It's been some time since Catherine D was a young woman walking unescorted across the public places of a large French city: i've seen the harassment happen in front of me, and it's appalling:
"Oh, you're so beautiful, can I have your phone number?"
"Oh well F-off then, slut".
With a slap to the face of the woman as well, in one recently recorded case.
I've seen screen shots of e-discussions between model friends and supposed photographers... that basically follow the same lines.
My jaundiced opinion is that as the rich-poor gap gets bigger, there is a more "anything goes" attitude to gaining success, however that's defined. It applies equally to raising animals as though they are machines, or ripping off everyone you deal with, or pouring alcohol into young models to disinhibit them, or feeding drugs to desperately ambitious young athletes.
It's not an issue for someone like Kate Moss, who has the money and the power and can happily decide to flash whatever bits of her body she cares... it's the young ones who aren't at peace with themselves and who are probably too insecure to be in the business, but are desperate to succeed because of the marketing of the dream. It's certainly a fault on both sides, but I'd like to think a 50 yo photographer has a certain responsibility of care toward 20 yo models... regardless of gender.
Then you see the bitterness Marie Helvin seems to still harbour for Bailey... human jealousy etc etc. Bof, as they say around here.
Bof! indeed, as my daughter has been wont to say ever after her uni year in France! I often wondered where that came from, as it wasn't all that prevalent in Scotland at the time; probably still isn't, but I can't say.
But yes, your example of the lone woman in the city (probably even more at risk in the sticks!) isn't something of which to be proud, but it's hardly anything new. The difference seems to be that where nobody thought much of it, or even expected it to be different, the zeitgeist has suddenly made it a falsely new issue, and thus the young who are exposed to it - it nearly always is the young, because it is all about
obvious sexual attraction (though it is now fashionable to think of it as much in terms of power, for goodness sake!) think it is a new deal, and that by shouting out loud things will change. They will not. Men change no more than do women; only socially acceptable habits appear to change, but underneath the public face, life continues as ever. It has to, or it finishes.
Harking back to the 50s, I was no more likely to walk around the less salubrious areas of Glasgow than I would be today; perhaps the old razors have gone, but with the popular craze for bikes, I'm sure the lengths of chain have returned with a vengeance, if they had ever vanished. Of course things such as rape and physical harm must be prevented and punished, but we step a little too fast when we conflate all of that with the wolf whistle from atop some scaffolding; my wife used to work in a laboratory and she used to be amused at the reactions when she (you see? labs were open to both genders, it depended on ability if you got in or not) or any of the other female chemists would need to go into the works. The catcalls and "appreciation" were all good-natured and nobody took offence or intended it; as I say, I think this has been soured by political correctness distorting all transgender (cross-gender?) relationships. I remember my neighbour, in her seventies, remarking some years ago that if nobody gave you a whistle or pinched your ass, you believed you were slipping... There is an enormous gulf between assault and light public applause - and as the wolf whistle is often given to any female, it is probably if she doesn't get it that doubts creep in, exactly as they will from gazing at videos of trainers or dancers doing workouts and lying that yes, you too can look as do I if you but buy this, that or the other machine or diet deal. Bullshit; people are what they are through the luck of the draw, and helped not a little by loving, responsible and caring parents who cook good food and keep you out of the fast food joints. If there is a medical condition, that is something entirely different.
I can't speak for other snappers, but I never worked in a culture where you got your models and/or yourself drunk on the job. Why would you imagine that made life better? If anything, it would make you both incompetent. That may be the case within the ethos of the "amateur model and photographer" who hires her or picks her up somewhere, but as all my models came from agencies, all the girls knew how many eggs made an omelette. Now, of course there are and will continue to be photographers who take advantage of the relationship, as docs and nurses, pilots and stewardesses (you interact with people types you meet every day) might well do, for all I know; it's just sex appeal appealing yet again. It's up to the model if she wants to play that game or not; models are the strongest, most resilient creatures who face rejection at a casting every day, accept that somebody else suits the gig better, and they simply move along to the next casting they have been invited to attend. The invitation is its own reward on a basic level, because it indicates you are valuable; if you fail and another gets the gig, c'est la vie.
Kate Moss was not always a millionairess. Cocaine chick was flavour of the day - Corrine Day was big at the time, and worked with Moss a lot... there were many drug casualties, the most notable perhaps being poor Gia, a girl who had everything throwing it all away on dust.
But yes, times change. Mostly, a girl would come up to the studio, do her thing, I'd sign her agency slip and she'd be on her way. We were seldom stuck with other people around because the girls all knew how to do their make up themselves, and better yet, the day of the present-and-lurking art director and client had not arrived on my parish. Today, though I trust myself and know my abilities as well as those that age and health have stolen, I don't think I'd work that way again. This came to me after the same woman who had complained about political correctness stopping her from getting whistles, and also my own daughter, told me that I would be insane to work alone with a woman again. I think that may illustrate part of the mess that the pc brigade has created for everybody, even probably harmless old buggers such as I.
What a shame that attempts to improve the natural order have only made it worse.
Thought it worth adding: I have known models who hunt scalps, too. Hunting 'em is not exclusively a male thing.
;-)
Rob
