In her May 19 piece, "Maxim Just Became Your New Feminist Bible," Daily Beast writer Emily Shire hailed the men's magazine for selecting musician Taylor Swift as the cover girl for its latest edition, containing a "Hot List" of female celebrities. Shire was delighted at the choice of Swift and of the photo itself which "emphasizes Swift’s piercing, brooding eyes" and hold her forth as "a woman rather than a set of breasts—and a successful woman, at that."
But all the same, Shire wishes Maxim might be a little bit, well, bolder and make say actress Lena Dunham or comedian Amy Schumer to top the Hot List (emphasis mine):
Swift is still svelte, toned, and tanned. I wonder if Maxim would have been bold enough to not only change its style of Hot 100 photos, but to more defiantly expand what a woman can look like to be considered hot.
Sure, Maxim makes it clear that Swift wasn’t merely chosen for her pretty face. Profile author Jessica Roy champions Swift as “dazzling, self-assured, and ferociously talented.” She praises Swift for being “deeply unconcerned with whether or not you consider her attractive, which of course only makes her more so.” Swift’s bestie, Lena Dunham, fits that bill, arguably all the more so. Why not choose her, Maxim?
The magazine also plays up the selection of Swift by claiming she is the “most relevant and intriguing woman.” I’m sorry, Maxim, but nobody believes Swift is the most relevant and intriguing woman alive.
Of course, the woman who is actually the most relevant and intriguing (Hillary Clinton) would be wildly inappropriate for Maxim. But what about Amy Schumer, a comedian whose show sparks nuanced debates about feminism and objectification each week?
Maxim made a positive change, but it and many other magazines can do more to improve the way we idolize and glorify women. We should push harder at the conceptions of what makes a person “hot” or “sexy.” Swift is a bold choice for Maxim, but the bar was also set pretty low.
Of course, love her music or hate it, there's no question that Swift, 25, has had a remarkably successful music career at a pretty young age, and that without a lot of the music-superstar baggage that often besets talented young musicians. And, unlike Dunham, she's never profited financially from a book containing a rape allegation that, upon investigation, was discovered to have had no basis in reality, but whose falsehoods have cost one young man dearly. Via Joe Concha of Mediaite last December:
As a result, Barry–forced to take down his social media accounts and now seen as a rapist–hires a lawyer, Aaron Minc. Barry–also in his 20s and not exactly liquid in terms of cash–turns to crowdsourcing to help pay his legal fees. He notes that any money that exceeds said fees would go to charities assisting survivors of rape and sexual assault.
– On Monday, Random House finally comments on the allegation, and says Dunham fabricated the name of her alleged rapist, using the hardly-ever-read copyright page as cover. Here’s their statement:
As indicated on the copyright page of Not That Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham, some names and identifying details in the book have been changed. The name ‘Barry’ referenced in the book is a pseudonym. Random House, on our own behalf and on behalf of our author, regrets the confusion that has led attorney Aaron Minc to post on GoFundMe on behalf of his client, whose first name is Barry.
We are offering to pay the fees Mr. Minc has billed his client to date. Our offer will allow Mr. Minc and his client to donate all of the crowd-funding raised to not-for-profit organizations assisting survivors of rape and sexual assault.
Hell of an apology and explanation, huh? And of course, not a peep from Ms. Dunham–who is still trying to recover from another tale told in the book around the unsettling way she treated her younger sister growing up. Update: Dunham responded Tuesday night via an essay in Buzzfeed, stating “any resemblance to a person with this name is an unfortunate and surreal coincidence.” Except, you know, the whole part about her sharing precise details where he worked (radio station, school library) what he wore (purple cowboy boots), what he looked like right down to a flamboyant mustache, and, of course, the all-important political affiliation.
