Yesterday, I found out from cultural critic Michaela Angela Davis (a Facebook friend) that Essence Magazine has hired Fashion Director Elliana Placas. The issue, of course, is that Placas is White, and Essence is a magazine that has been focused on Black women since 1968.
Davis is very upset, and since she is also a writer, I can understand her concern; Essence is one of the few places that has consistently provided employment to Black female journalists–and Black stylists and designers. Davis was quote in Clutch Magazine as saying that “I feel like a girlfriend died.” (Click on this to read the article.)
However, I have to tell you that what has made me so sad was not Essence’s hiring of a White Fashion Director, but that I really don’t care in the least anymore what happens to Essence magazine and I haven’t for a long, long time.
Like all of the African American women I know– and also, all the biracial women of African descent that I know, too—I grew up on Essence. It was lovely seeing all those super-fine, super-bad Sisters in cute, fly outfits, faces beat to perfection, and hair that was natural yet impeccably coifed. “You don’t need chemicals and you don’t need to be light-skinned to be pretty, either, though our beauty comes in all shades and hair textures”—this is what Essence said to Sisters each month.
The only other magazine that featured Black women on such a scale was Ebony, but let’s face it, Ebony wasn’t slick like Essence, which was just as classy as Glamour, Elle, or Vogue—magazines that might have a Sister on the cover every two or three years. Ebony, on the other hand, featured staged and sometimes, well, cheesy photo essays.
And Ebony clearly wasn’t about a Black woman’s point of view. It was invested in a traditional view of the Black family: Brother in the front, Sister and children to the side or the back, looking up at The Black Man adoringly and always deferring to him. Which is the way it was ‘sposed to be, right?
Always, Ebony let Sisters know that if they would just get on board the Patriarchal Man-As-Head train, everything would be great in the Black community. Meanwhile, there was a woman’s liberation movement going on with White Women AND Black Women. But, Ebony implicitly stated each month, this movement was for lesbians, straight man-haters who didn’t have daddies, and ugly women with buck-teeth who couldn’t get no man in the first place.
Essence, on the other hand, started off as a publication supporting “Strong Black Women.” In fact, Marcia Ann Gillespie was editor-in-chief of Essence for nine years. Gillespie used to be editor of Ms. Magazine, a mainstream “official” feminist magazine.
So, in the beginning, Essence was about putting black women first. Then, came the nineties.
I remember the first time I picked up Essence and saw a beauty advertisement with a White woman in it. Not a White woman AND a Sister. Just a White woman. This was supposed to be a magazine that let me know that I was the finest thing around. Me: a Black woman. I was at the top of the beauty pyramid, at least once a month. But instead, what this ad told me was, “Sorry–psych.” This was about eighteen or nineteen years ago, and still remains a traumatic experience for me.
Then, in the middle of the 90s came the Million Man March and all the articles in Essence focusing on how Black men had it so bad, much worse than we Sisters had it– and don’t we ever forget it.
Sidebar: Looking back, the Million Man March doesn’t bother me as much as it did then. I still think it was a classic “bait and switch” march. I mean, why couldn’t Farrakhan simply say, “We want to get the Brothers together without Sisters so they can fellowship”? I would have been fine with that.
But billing the March as a “National Day of Atonement” was false advertising. You do not get on a bus, train, or plane and travel AWAY from the woman you want to say you are sorry to. You STAY at home and say, “Baby, I’m sorry.” You throw a barbecue out back or get a bucket of chicken so a Sister doesn’t have to cook. You give her a foot massage, and if she wants to make love, you put the baby down for her and let her get a nap first, so she’s full of erotic energy that you will be happy to help her expend.
Or, like, a Brother could do some community service, too, after the barbecue or chicken run.
But here’s my point. It was a Million MAN March, right? So why was it taking up all that space in Essence, a WOMAN’S magazine? I mean, couldn’t we Sisters have a place all our own?
And then, after Time Warner bought the magazine, it just went from a supposedly serious Sister’s magazine with only a couple of ads with White women–because some fashion and beauty companies couldn’t even be bothered to think about Black women in their advertising budget, don’t you know–to a half-serious Sister’s magazine–with even more ads featuring White women– to a fluffy Sister’s publication informing me of fashion, make-up, and the many, many different ways to wear a hair weave. And lots and lots of ads featuring White women, including a White lady nearly every month on the back cover.
And also, featuring Black men on the front cover– for example, Terrance Howard, who starred as a pimp in Hustle and Flow, and used the word “bitch” too many times to count in the movie–and why wouldn’t that be very empowering for us Sisters?
Yes, there were a couple of serious articles each month, but these were buried inside, after all the fashion stuff, and these articles tended to be shorter than the fake exposé articles on stars who appeared on the front cover.
Sidebar: I mean, even the poetry was in the back. Which is why I never sent Essence my work, because I was not going to be a Black woman poet in the BACK of a Black women’s magazine. Talk about some negative symbolism. That doesn’t mean I am throwing shade on my Sisters who sent in poetry. I am just saying that it is insulting to include someone’s artistic blood, sweat and tears on the page before sexual dysfunction advertisements, ok?
My last straw was when Essence started using any excuse to erode Black women’s sense of strength, especially when it came to romantic relationships, in their so-called “columns.” Like this article that included a professional Sister talking about how happy she had been in a (now-defunct) relationship with a broke Brother who had to borrow bus fare from her. She was really, really happy in that relationship, she said.
She gave a Brother bus fare–frequently. Not her husband or the father or her children. Just some random brother who she is no longer in a relationship with.
I just kept repeating the phrase “bus fare” over and over.
And that is when I decided to let my subscription to Essence go the first time. Then, I broke down and I subscribed again. Then, I read another article advising Sisters to leave even more of their pride to the side in romantic relationships, and I let my subscription lapse. Then, I broke down and I subscribed again.
You get the picture.
The last time I let my subscription lapse, I just decided, Essence wasn’t ever going to get better; it was only going to get worse, and it was only going to keep riding that same male-chauvenist Ebony train, advising Black women to hold their tongues, demand less and less from their relationships with Black men, but oh yes, keep the weave tight, the make-up flawless, and the outfits together.
It didn’t matter if there were pictures of pretty Black women in the magazine, I told myself, because there are also really pretty Black women in porn magazines. And not that there is anything wrong with reading porn magazines–if you are grown– but I wouldn’t buy those magazines to get my female self-esteem going or to find out about serious social issues impacting the Black community. And at this point in my emotional and social development, a thick book of tame or naughty pretty pictures isn’t quite getting it–not for me.
So, this latest piece of information about Essence hasn’t really upset me in the least, because I stopped viewing Essence as an advocate for the Black woman a long time ago. And so, when I am finding out that some Sisters want to boycott Essence over its hiring of a White Fashion Director, I’m rather bewildered as to why it has taken us so long to get angry at this magazine. Maybe now it is finally time that we leave Essence, but in case we Sisters haven’t noticed, our relationship with this so-called Black Woman’s Publication has been over for quite some time.