I once wrote a story for O, The Oprah Magazine examining how it felt to go out in public wearing the kind of extremely revealing clothing then being touted as the height of fashion—and why a woman might choose to expose herself in that style. For a week, I wore a lot of almost nothing: a scrap of black fabric only very generously called a dress; another transparent one that revealed my underwear as if behind a pale violet scrim; a pair of bloomers—yes bloomers—so abbreviated they were interrupted almost before they bloomed.
After the story came out, a number of people congratulated me on my courage. The thing is, I didn’t feel courageous. I could walk down the street in a bra and panties and feel pretty comfortable (if I didn’t think I’d be arrested). Nude beaches? Hand me the sunscreen and point the way. I’m just not very inhibited about my body.
But I do have a secret inhibition: I won’t dance. Don’t ask me.
That wouldn’t be a problem, necessarily, except that I want to dance. I’m just too anxious that the moment I take the floor, I won’t know what to do. I’m even—and I especially hate to admit this—afraid to try.
Would it help if you shouted at me, “YOU CAN DANCE, MOTHERF*CKER! DANCE!”? I don’t think so. Which brings me in a very do-si-do way to the well-known L'Oréal tagline, Because You’re Worth It.
The tagline originated in 1971 as Because I’m Worth It—a young woman’s genius marketing idea to get L'Oréal consumers to spend more on their hair color than on their competitors’. The original ad is widely regarded as the first of its kind in that it depicted a woman making an independent decision regardless of her relationships. It shows her in full frame, walking confidently toward the camera (through what might be construed as the Garden of Eden) and speaking directly to the viewer. At a time when most advertising showed women in relationship to men (or children or household appliances), the ad was a reflection of feminism’s burgeoning second wave in the U.S. Somewhere along the way the line was amended to Because You’re Worth It, supposedly as a gesture toward inclusivity.
Last week a friend sent me a recently released video of Kate Winslet doing her part to promote the “You’re Worth It” campaign.
Watching it, I had mixed feelings; I asked my friend what she thought. “I loved every word,” said my friend, “and then I felt like a sucker when the L'Oréal logo came up.” Yeah, I thought. Me too. But why?
It took me a nearly six-mile walk to figure it out, fingertips freezing as my thoughts crystallized. What I finally came up with is this: a problem with the slogan’s intention. From the original ad: Actually, I don’t mind spending more for L'Oréal. Because I’m worth it.
The intention is to get you to feel good about laying out more cash than you might feel comfortable with. As another astute friend points out, tying feelings of self-worth to cash outlay is problematic in a lot of ways, but maybe especially because what if you don’t have the resources to spend more? Too bad for you!
L'Oréal’s effort to separate that intention from the slogan’s loftier, positive message makes me feel bamboozled, like they’re offering a sustainable, organic, good-for-the-earth, cotton nightgown…stylishly stitched by starving three-year-olds. A fine message, sullied.
The other issue is a little more complicated. If you watch Viola Davis’s “You’re Worth It” soliloquy, you might be as moved as I was. The ferocity, the intensity, and the authenticity of her delivery is (as is all her acting) compelling. Which bumps up against my objection to the idea that repeating, as Davis does, I’m worth it! to yourself to boost self-esteem is basically as effective as shouting into the mirror I’m beautiful! to feel more attractive.
There are studies showing that affirmations can be helpful in eliciting positive and more successful behaviors in certain groups. But as I understand it, affirmations work only when they reflect core values; in other words, it’s useless to repeat an arbitrary phrase if you don’t believe it—if it doesn’t remind you of something you already know. What good is an affirmation when you’re incapable of receiving it? As psychologist Tara Well, PhD, says, “If you already believe what you’re telling yourself, an affirmation can be a boost. But if you don’t, self-affirmation…can be like gas lighting.” (Wells’s book on mirror meditation will be out this June.) Moreover, repeating an affirmation when there is little or no systemic support for the idea, or when a culture is designed to reinforce your feelings of unworthiness, well…hello, Big Beauty.
Excepting Davis’s powerful rendition of the slogan—which might be motivating because she is gifted at personalizing her words—I’m skeptical that repeating I’m worth it! is an effective way to change anyone’s self-regard. It might work in the hair color aisle to motivate you to pop for the L’Oréal rather than the Clairol. But if you already struggle with feelings about self-worth, I doubt there’d be much of a payoff if you used it before demanding a raise—or negotiating yourself out of a damaging relationship.
I was thinking about better ways—instead of giving impersonal praise or exhorting generic encouragement—to increase a person’s feeling of self-worth (and maybe your own). How about this:
You can look her in the eye.
You can say, I’m listening.
You can say, Tell me.
On a lighter note…I have an abundant stash of fancy earrings, but I’ve been reluctant to wear them because I’m afraid they’ll get caught in my mask ear loops and I’ll lose them. So I’ve been wearing these simple drop pearls almost every day:
They seem to be indestructible and look great with jeans, a t-shirt, and my favorite sneakers. And they’ve been generating compliments, which tickles me. I bought them for $6 at CVS—because, you know, I’m worth it.
Val Asks You
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I didn't like the Viola Davis campaign because she *is* so intense and *is* so direct that it was jarring to think that amount of emotion and in-your-faceness was all about...selling me something. Meh. It felt like a bait-and-switch the first time I saw it.
Very insightful, Val!