There remains an ongoing stigma against Old Hollywood. A.k.a. what some now mockingly call its Golden Age. Some Golden Age, right? When women were thrust upon the casting couch if they wanted to secure a career—and even then, there was no security when a “younger model” came along to “wow” a studio executive. And that, of course, went on long after the decay of the studio system (hence, a plotline like the one in Scream 3). Objectification not only reigned supreme, it was par for the course. And what with Hollywood “ideals” being both a combination of mirroring the world as it is and what “society” wants to be deemed “in vogue,” it seemed women everywhere always sought to be “like” famous actresses who were all too “down” to accommodate the male gaze (Marilyn Monroe being the modern pioneer of this). And, long after the fall of the “Golden Age,” women still kept it ingrained in their minds to be as “sexy” and “sensual” as possible (further emphasized by the erotic thriller genre that reigned supreme at the box office in the 80s and 90s).
All performed femininity that was furnished by the entertainment industry being in bed with other businesses that could shill the promise of beauty, therefore desirability. Even someone like Rihanna can see that women’s lust for looking and feeling beautiful remains a billion-dollar enterprise, no matter how much women are told they’re fine “just as they are,” to borrow a Mark Darcy aphorism. Yet what no one appears to iterate enough is that women truly do want to look attractive for their own benefit. In short, women “dressing for themselves,” as it is said, doesn’t have to assume that should exclude wearing high heels. But apparently, the marketing team at M&M’s feels differently about it. This includes the president of Mars Wrigley North America, Anton Vincent, who insisted the recent change to the look of all the M&M’s characters, particularly Ms. Green and Ms. Brown, is a step toward the so-called future by noting that M&M’s scant few (read: two) “femme” characters are now designed to appear “representative of the consumer.” In other words, they’ve been stripped of their go-go boots and high heels in favor of “smart” sneakers that “represent” Midwestern fashion. Something Vincent referred to as “a subtle cue, but it’s a cue people really pick up on.”
That’s for sure. For it didn’t take long for many to mock the fact that this is what’s being focused on right now instead of, say, the repression of voting rights. It seems that in lieu of the government taking any useful action, they prefer to tell corporations to make some kind of “grand” symbolic gesture that will supposedly placate the public. Like when Aunt Jemima, Mrs. Butterworth’s, Cream of Wheat and Uncle Ben’s got rid of their long-standing offensive “mascots” (or were discontinued altogether) in the wake of the George Floyd reckoning that put a larger spotlight on systemic racism in the U.S.
What Mars Wrigley clearly didn’t bargain for is that everything people in suits do is wrong, and that now, instead of being viewed as “inclusive,” “Gen Z” (an all-encompassing term to signify “youths” and/or “tastemakers”) sees what the company has done to the green and brown M&M’s as slut-shaming. But particularly the green M&M, perhaps because go-go boots are more controversial in the present. So that’s, one supposes, why they’ve taken away her sense of female empowerment just like Joe DiMaggio tried to do to Marilyn Monroe when he roughed her up after “having to” watch her “crass display” (a.k.a. doing her job as an actress) while standing on the subway grate and letting her skirt blow up to film that iconic scene from The Seven Year Itch.
And yet, the way Mars Wrigley views it—from their own decidedly cheugy perspective—is that they’ve done the green M&M and her brown sister a solid by stripping them of their “gender-specific” footwear (well, Ms. Brown still has her heels, but they’re “less salacious”). And yet, rather than the masses interpreting this as a move toward “equality,” it has been repurposed as another sign of patriarchal attempts to suppress female agency through relishing one’s own sexuality. In contrast, to the suits who have been advised by the marketing team, sneakers, somehow, are meant to “reflect confidence and empowerment as a strong female.” And even Ms. Green’s new “personality profile” on the official website hints at her sordid history as a “legs-up” sort of dame via the question, “Any past transgressions that still haunt you?” Um, what? Her answer comes across as even more of an indication that Mars Wrigley wants to wipe the slate entirely clean of her “shameful” past as a “trollop,” getting her to respond, “Nothing ‘haunts’ me. My motto is ‘live and learn and move on.’”
As for her “best quality,” she now insists it’s “being a hypewoman for my friends. I think we all win when we see more women in leading roles, so I’m happy to take on the part of supportive friend when they succeed.” And the way in which her only other female friend (granted, the company is trying to veer away from focusing on gender in their chocolatey mascots, and more on “personality”) has ostensibly succeeded is by having her heels modified to a more “professional” length. Comfort over style is the mantra—and one that coronavirus perpetuated. In an M&M shell (that’s a play on nutshell), that means no more glamor. An art form that women have truly been carrying on their shoulders for most of the twenty-first century, and not always resentfully (see: Britney Spears’ 00s style game). Only to have it taken away thanks to the arbitrary whims of a corporation wanting to come across as “with it.” And while they could have just added in two new “female” M&M’s to counterbalance the “slutty” ones and also have an equitable female to male ratio, it would admittedly be too much of a burden to finance the addition of any more permanent colors and flavors to the fold. So that’s that. Shoes gone. Ergo, glitz gone.
For this particular M&M lover, it isn’t about the attempt at construing this whole affair as a not-so-subliminal form of slut-shaming that’s upsetting and “outrageous,” so much as the fact that, at present, even M&Ms are not allowed to exude anything like Old Hollywood glamor. Yet somehow, Billie Eilish is given the sanction to do it—which is even more scandalous because she’s supposedly a real person. But to many, so is the green M&M who has been denuded of her essence for the sake of a marketing shake-up. One that is causing the M&M’s empire to further exacerbate the heels-selling business, with sales having dropped considerably during the ongoing pandemic. Nonetheless, the same article citing that sales drop also concludes with the declaration, “Whether they’re purchasing pumps for a rainy day or dressing up for a socially distanced night out, women are still—and always will be—in the market for a great pair of heels.” Will someone please tell that to Anton Vincent so that he might give Ms. Green and Ms. Brown their rightful footwear back?
