In an era where companies are latching onto political and
social movements, it’s important to look at their involvement with a critical
eye. This is part one of an abridged version of a paper I wrote about Dove and their supposed
commitment to feminism.
As society evolves, brands must follow suit and adapt in
order to remain relevant. Dove is one of many companies that has embarked on a
journey to evolve their brand name through what they present and suggest in
their advertisements. How have they done this? Through their use of branded
activism which leads into ideals of feminism, authenticity, and the body in
consumer culture being challenged and presented through their advertisements.
A Brief History of Dove in an Evolving Society
Dove, owned by its parent company Unilever, began in 1957 in
the United States with its “revolutionary new beauty cleansing Bar.”[1] Since then, Dove has been increasing its
product line, creating specific lines for women, men, and infants. In 2005,
Dove began its Dove Campaign for Real Beauty (DCRB) – although they claim to
have always been “wholly committed to providing superior care to all women and
to championing…real beauty in [their] advertising.” This campaign was intended
to “ensure that the next generation grows up enjoying a positive relationship [with
their body]” through school lessons and workshops as well as resources for
parents. In 2017, Dove created the Dove Real Beauty Pledge in which they vowed
to feature women (not models), not to photoshop/edit their images, and building
self-esteem for youth.
Why did this start? Why did Dove move toward a body-positive
ideology? Mike Featherstone claims that “consumer culture latches onto the prevalent
self-preservationist conception of the body” and through advertising, a world
is created “in which individuals are made to become emotionally vulnerable,
constantly monitoring themselves for bodily imperfections.”[2]
Perhaps it was this realization, which became more evident in the 20th
century, was why Dove dedicated themselves to “body-positive” campaigns. Except
that their ads can – perhaps inadvertently – showcase problems people have with
their bodies. With ads showing women insecure in their bodies (but then
becoming secure by using Dove), this could lead to young girls thinking, “They’re
insecure about their cellulite, should I be insecure too?”
Web 2.0 could also be part of the reason why Dove began so
many of their real beauty campaigns in the 21st century as “a
substantial number of studies have found that media exposure is related to body
image concerns among young adults.”[3]
Through acknowledging the insecurities that perhaps have been increased through
social media and the Internet, Dove attempts to capitalise on this by creating
ads catering to these insecurities.
Dove’s Evolution: An Analysis of Dove’s Advertisements
Here comes the fun part! And if by fun you mean: analysing their
advertisements chronologically to see how their ads have developed over the
years, I agree!
Commodity-Use to Commodity-Sign
Firstly, let’s define some terms. When I say “commodity-use,”
I am referring to ads that focus on what the product does – not what it does “for
you,” but literally speaking. Commodity-use ads simply show what the product’s
purpose is, such as Dove’s first advertisement which premiered in 1957, the
same year the company was created. This ad is simple. It touts the benefits of
Dove soap over other companies and uses a split-screen to show the actress
washing her face with Dove’s soap and comparing it a different brand (they
still use this technique today too). The main purpose of this ad is to show
what this product can do, which is to “cream your skin as you wash!” as the
narrator says.
Now, this advertisement does contain some semblance to
commodity-sign advertisements (which is when the commodity becomes a sign for
something other than its main purpose), at the end of the day, this ad pales in
comparison to what Dove’s newer ads do. It’s important to touch on what some of
the symbols mean that appear in this ad, however. This bar is advertised as a “beauty
bar” indicating feminine use and this is demonstrated through their hiring of a
female actress.[4] The
private bathroom also eludes to luxury – which is an isolating symbol as not
many had bathrooms like this in the 50s – but the use of “you” pronouns is an attempt
to unify the audience.[5]
Okay, back to Dove saying they’ve always tried to show “real”
beauty. This ad does not demonstrate this. They show a traditionally beautiful woman
present and through showing her in the bathtub, they end up sexualising her
body. This woman being white with blonde hair which, although perhaps
representative of the 20th-century consumer, is just a small portion
of the mass consumer population.
Compare and contrast time! Check out this 2018 ad for one of
their deodorants.
This is clearly a deodorant for everyone, not just for a
white woman. It is for women of colour, women of different bodies types, women
who exercise, and for women who wear “what they want, when they want!”
In the 1957 ad, the beauty bar is shown in many of the shots
in some way, shape, or form. This ad, however, only contains one clip of the
actual application of the product. The rest of it is all symbols and signs.
This is the switch to commodity-sign advertisements. A commodity sign, as
defined by Wernick, “functions in circulation both as an object-to-be-sold and
as the bearer of a promotional message.”[6]
The object-to-be-sold is the deodorant, of course, and the attempted
promotional message is one of body positivity and inclusivity – which can be
achieved at the low cost of this dry spray deodorant.
“Wear what you want, when you want,” is contradictory. It is
not the ability to wear anything, anytime, but the ability to wear sleeveless
outfits (tank tops, strapless dresses, etc.) because this is an ad promoting “softer,
smoother underarms.” Did I miss the memo on how “rough” armpits were a bad
thing? This goes back to what Featherstone said about ads pointing out flaws. Personally,
armpits were never on my radar for things to be concerned about. And their “inclusivity”
is done through their diverse (but not really) casting. I will say that it is
nice to see older women and plus-sized women in this ad – especially given the
ageist and fatphobic nature of Hollywood and the film industry – but this ad is
still dominated by the thin.
Commodity feminism. That’s what this is. Robert Goldman
discusses this concept – where companies try to appropriate feminism and brand
themselves as feminists. Since the 1970s, “advertisers have tried to connect
the value and meaning of women’s emancipation to corporate products” and commodity
feminism is able to “join the meanings of feminism and femininity.”[7]
The women in this ad are shown as being empowered (because using the deodorant lets
them have smooth underarms) and free to make their choices – hence emancipated –
but at the same time, this ad “presents feminism as a style” (Goldman, et al.
1991). Being able to wear what you want whenever you want is “feminism” because
you have a “choice,” but that choice was “given” to the audience by Dove
through their product.
Tune in for part 2 in which I dissect authenticity in the
form of branded activism (#RealDadMoments)!
[1]
Dove (the information in this paragraph can be found here:
[2] Mike
Featherstone, 1982.
[3]
Kim & Chock, 2015.
[4]
Sarah Banet-Weiser, 2012.
[5] Sarah
Banet-Weiser, 2012. B
[6]
Wernick, 1991.
[7]
Goldman, Heath, & Smith, 1991.
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