Chauvinistic or a good idea? Is equating women's clothing with urban decorum really implying that women are 'no more than benches or hedges'?

By Claire Cameron

Last week, the Southern Italian town of Castellamarre di Stabia announced its intention to ban the mini-skirt. Not only would the Italian Glamazons be prevented from showing a bit too much bronzed thigh, but the town mayor, Luigi Bobbio, has clarified that the mini-skirt will not be the only victim. Anything deemed ‘too short’ is to be targeted. This includes: low-cut jeans, revealing tops, teeny-weeny bikinis, hot pants, and whatever else you can imagine spilling out of. Bobbio has stated that women in ‘racy’ outfits should be stopped by police and fined up to 300 euros for disgracing the public decency: “One glance should be enough to judge.” But how does one judge Public Decency? If the heads of the policemen get turned twice? If a girl gets a ‘honk’ from a passing car? Maybe she’ll get some lewd comments thrown in to the bargain? Having been to Italy several times and with many friends who have lived there in the past, everyone I know who has spent more than a day there has experienced all of the above. And yet I do not wear a mini-skirt every day, I don’t enjoy feeling like I am about to tumble out my top and my beach-ware is far more socially acceptable than that great staple of Italian men everywhere: the Speedo. And even if I did want to wear hot pants every day, there is a sharp contrast between a dress with some cleavage on display and causing grave offence to ‘decency’. In response to the measures, centre-left politicians staged a protest sit-in in the town council. Angela Cortese, a councillor, said: “By equating women’s clothing with urban decorum, this measure implies that women are no more than benches or hedges.” Civil pride has come to rest on the image of ‘acceptable womanhood’. I agree with Cortese: using women’s’ appearances as a marker for civility and respectable conduct is not good practice. The reputation of a town does not rest on whether or not someone is showing underwear every time they wiggle as they walk. It isn’t the first time an administration has announced such a ban in recent years: Uganda tried to implement a no-mini law and Chile attempted to prevent women working in the public sector from wearing a mini, citing the clothes as a ‘distraction’ to men and a potential hazard. Who knew a few extra inches of flesh could cause road accidents, a decrease in productivity and encourage sexual harassment in the work place? I can understand a man getting a bit hot under the collar if he saw his work colleague in suspenders and a ‘GET IT HERE’ sign around her neck, but a short skirt or a low cut top? Quite frankly I would not expect sexual harassment even if I were wearing a paper bag. I would be less shocked if this news story came out of a country in which women are actively curtailed in their freedoms and prevented by law from expressing themselves. But this isn’t Iran. It is Italy: a member of the European Union, a democracy, and an apparently liberal society. The last time Italy asserted political control over its female citizenry was before the Second World War. Is it not worrying that these attitudes find their historical parallel in a fascist state? Surely an enlightened western country cannot support the institutionalisation of the female form? Causing undue offence? Yes, that should be disciplined. A person’s clothes should not be within the bounds of legislation. A bit of bum cheek on show might be tasteless, but it is never criminal.

Despicable Me

I was a little bit worried about Despicable Me. The crowning glory of all family films – Toy Story – has only just left the building. The book was finally closed on Shrek’s fairytale. The king of computer animation, Disney’s Pixar, is basking in the glory of a flush of beautiful and critically acclaimed animations – and they keep getting better with every new idea. How can a new animation film hope to stand beside such competition? Not only that, but I found out Russell Brand is one of the leading characters. I have a very particular aversion to Brand in any form; non-representative animation included.
I can safely say, with doubts banished to the far corners, Despicable Me is one of the funniest, light-hearted, and clever films I will see this year.
Steve Carell stars as the twisted, polo-neck wearing Gru: a villain whose lack of success has confined him to the horrors of suburbia. Always trying to cement himself as the Greatest Villain of All Time, Gru is horrified when a complete unknown manages to steal the Great Pyramid. In order to win back his reputation, Gru comes up with the ultimate heist: stealing the moon. However, in order to fulfil his dream, Gru must first do battle with his nemesis – the super-nerd Vector. Gru hatches a plan to adopt three orphaned girls to deploy their cookie-selling skills and get him past Vector – but when he starts to form a bond with them, he realises that being the Bad Guy isn’t what’s really important in life.
At times hilarious and at others heart wrenching, Despicable Me guarantees to entertain you. It may even appeal to The Youth – it’s sound-tracked by Pharrell Williams of N.E.R.D fame. One of the best comic aspects of the film for me was the fabulously awful adoption homeowner Miss Hattie: a Sarah Palinesque, twin-set wearing, evil Stepmother. Played by Saturday Night Live performer Kristen Wiig, her sickly sweet voice and pervasive hostility was as hilarious as it was terrifying. The audience is almost relieved that Gru, a nefarious criminal, takes the poor little girls away from her harpy-like clutches.
And that is the real beauty of this film: it is one of the very few portrayals of a single father, nay, an unmarried single father, that is actually positive. It is not fashionable to show a single man as a loving parent-figure, particularly for three cute schoolgirls. It brought something refreshingly original to the much-exploited plot of ‘Criminal Fights Criminal (Except One is the Nice Really)’.
Directed by Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud, Despicable Me is a highly enjoyable film that does not resort to toilet humour to make little children laugh and leave adults bored out their minds. I even thought Russell Brand was, I admit, funny: a real triumph for any film. And as with all vaguely successful films these days, I cannot wait for the sequel.