Lady Gaga and the Sexual Politics of Meat

Consider Lady Gaga’s meat dress from the 2010 MTV Video Music Awards (VMAs): She walked the red carpet in an outfit made entirely from slabs of raw flank steak. Gaga, or her designers, cut out a large circle of meat from the back of the dress, leaving a large circle of her buttocks exposed with only sheer fishnet leggings. A meat-headband and pair of meat-shoes completed the ensemble.

[pullquote]Lady Gaga walked the red carpet in an outfit made entirely from slabs of raw flank steak.[/pullquote]

Was there a political statement hiding somewhere? Mostly, Gaga’s choices just confused the public and angered PETA. Still, endless interpretations swirled on the Internet. Some possible theories for Gaga’s motivation included an “anti-fashion statement,” “a feminist statement,” “a commentary on aging and decay,” a statement on society’s “hypocritical attitude towards meat,” and a possibility that it meant nothing at all. Today, I might assume Gaga was protesting Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations (CAFOs), which produce most of our country’s meat in horrifyingly inhumane conditions for both animals and workers, while also polluting air and water and contributing to climate change.

Gaga contradicted her own statements about the dress’s meaning, oscillating from “I am not a piece of meat” to insisting it was a protest of the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy for gay and lesbian soldiers in the U.S. military: “If we don’t fight for our rights,” she said, “pretty soon we’re going to have as much rights as the meat on our bones.” Gaga, or her publicist, made a weird choice in defending her outfit this way, especially when some of the circulating theories were much more compelling.

Gaga and her publicist might have made a much more interesting, nuanced argument had they read The Sexual Politics of Meat. Feminist Carol J. Adams writes about the “interplay between contemporary [American] society’s ingrained cultural misogyny and its obsession with meat and masculinity,” as the back of the book clearly explains.

Though Adams wrote The Sexual Politics of Meat 20 years before Gaga’s stunt, her words continue to challenge cultural assumptions today in 2017. Unfortunately, her comparison between the butchering of animals and the harassment and rape of women is all too relevant. Harvey Weinstein’s harassment of potentially more than 82 women, with the complacent support of his staff, disturbingly conjures the image of a meat-production assembly line.

[pullquote]Harvey Weinstein’s harassment of potentially 82 women, or more, with the complacent support of men and women on his staff, disturbingly conjures the image of a meat-production assembly line.[/pullquote]

Adams also discovers an ignored, “dismembered” literary history of vegetarianism. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, Wash U’s choice for this year’s Common Reading Program, features prominently in Adam’s analysis. Today, TV shows, magazines, and more often depict vegetarianism and veganism as women’s causes, leading many people to deem vegetarianism and veganism “annoying” or “unimportant.” Literary criticism has historically taken the same stance. I wonder how many Wash U discussions about Frankenstein investigated the monster’s declared vegetarianism.

Adams also makes excellent points about the language of meat disguising the reality of meat production. Of course, animal rights remain an issue. Today, omnivores and vegetarians alike are troubled by the terrifying conditions of CAFOs. They demand higher quality products like “cage-free eggs” and meat from “free range” cows, pigs, or chickens. The legitimacy of these practices is up for debate. Regardless, Adams’ argument about the language of meat holds up.

Lady Gaga’s “meat dress” was, more accurately, a “cow flesh dress.” We rename “cows” as “beef,” “pigs” as “pork,” and “flesh” as “meat.” The words we use to describe animals evidence Adams’ theory of “the absent referent,” or euphemistic language that disguises underlying discomforts or horror. In Adam’s work, the absent referent is the truth that all meat products are dead animal flesh.

Adams also prompts discussions about the way that meat is sold and prepared. Burgers and grills advertise to men, sometimes in freakily sexual ways—think “Burger King” burgers photographed on plush pink pillows in a canopy bed, “Carl’s Junior” ads featuring bikini clad women eating burgers, raw chickens placed to mimic the body of a woman lying on her side. Meanwhile, salads are “women’s food.” We expect women to cook and serve meat, but we expect men—often their husbands—to eat the largest portion. Either way, women and meat are objects to be consumed by men.

[pullquote]Either way, women and meat are objects to be consumed by men.[/pullquote]

Carol J. Adams would have made a much better publicist for Lady Gaga in the days after the 2010 VMAs. Just about any of these arguments about The Sexual Politics of Meat are more compelling than Gaga’s confusing message. An environmental argument would be equally as valuable.

The Sexual Politics of Meat is still worth a read, almost 30 years after Adams published it. As we navigate a meat-filled holiday season and a seemingly endless stream of revelations about sexual assaults in politics and Hollywood, Adams continues to offer insight into the ways in which American culture talks about and consumes both meat and women.

Julia Widmann ‘18 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. She can be reached at jnwidmann@wustl.edu.