Brigitte Bardot defined the modern woman and defied social norms

Ben McCann, University of Adelaide Brigitte Bardot’s death, at the age of 91, brings to a close one of the most extraordinary careers in post-war French cultural life. Best known as an actress, she was also a singer, a fashion icon, an animal rights activist and a symbol of France’s sexual liberation. Famous enough to be known by her initials, B.B. symbolised a certain vision of French femininity – rebellious and sensual, yet vulnerable. Her impact on beauty standards and French national identity was profound. At her peak, she rivalled Marilyn Monroe in global fame and recognition. Simone de Beauvoir, France’s leading feminist writer, famously wrote in 1959 that Bardot “appears as a force of nature, dangerous so long as she remains untamed”.

A star is born

Bardot was born in 1934 to a well-off Parisian family. Raised in a strict Catholic household, she studied ballet at the Conservatoire de Paris with hopes of becoming a professional dancer.

Her striking looks led her to modelling. By 14, she was appearing in Elle magazine, catching the eye of director Roger Vadim, whom she married in 1952. She began acting in the early 1950s and her appearance as Juliette in Vadim’s And God Created Woman (Et Dieu… créa la femme, 1956) put her on the map. Bardot was instantly catapulted to international stardom. Vadim presented his wife as the ultimate expression of youthful, erotic freedom that both shocked and captivated French audiences. Watching this relatively tame film today, it’s difficult to imagine just how taboo-breaking Bardot’s performance was. But in sleepy Catholic, conservative 1950s France, it set new norms for on-screen sexuality. The film became a global phenomenon. Critics loved it, but censors and religious groups grew nervous.

An 60s icon

Bardot’s lack of formal training as an actress paradoxically became part of her appeal: she adopted a spontaneous acting approach, as much physical as verbal. She was stunning in Contempt (Le Mépris, 1963), Jean-Luc Godard’s masterpiece about a crumbling marriage. Godard used her beauty and fame both as spectacle and critique. The film’s most famous sequence was a 31-minute conversation between Bardot and her co-star Michel Piccoli. Bardot was never better. In Henri-Georges Clouzot’s intense courtroom drama The Truth (La Vérité, 1960), she showcased her dramatic range playing a young woman on trial for the murder of her lover.

In 1965, she co-starred with Jeanne Moreau in Louis Malle’s Long Live Maria (Viva Maria), a rare female buddy film that blended comedy and political satire. Bardot’s anarchic energy remains a dazzling feat. A Very Private Affair (Vie privée, 1962) saw her portray a woman consumed by fame and chased by the media. The plotline was eerily predictive of Bardot’s own future. She popularised fashion trends like the choucroute hairstyle and ballet flats. The Bardot neckline – off-the-shoulder tops and dresses – was named after her. She even wore pink gingham at her 1959 wedding.

Allure and provocation

Bardot’s star appeal lay in her contradictions. She appeared simultaneously natural and provocative, spontaneous and calculated. Her dishevelled glamour and effortless sexuality helped construct the archetype of the modern “sex kitten”. She famously said “it is better to be unfaithful than to be faithful without wanting to be”. Throwing off the shackles of bourgeois morality, Bardot epitomised a commitment to emotional and sexual freedom. Her turbulent love life was a case in point. She was married four times, with dozens of stormy relationships and extra-marital affairs along the way. Forever immortalised as a free-spirited ingénue, Bardot was a muse for filmmakers, artists and musicians, from Andy Warhol to Serge Gainsbourg. Later on, Kate Moss, Amy Winehouse and Elle Fanning mentioned Bardot as an inspiration. Famously, Bardot never succumbed to cosmetic surgery. As she once noted:

Women should embrace ageing because, at the end of the day, it’s much more beautiful to have a grandmother with white hair who looks like an elderly lady than to have a grandmother who’s bleached, dyed, and […] who looks much older but also really unhappy.

Life after the movies

Bardot retired from acting in 1973, aged only 39, citing disillusionment with fame. “It suffocated and destroyed me”, she said, about the film industry. She shifted her attention to animal rights, founding the Brigitte Bardot Foundation in 1986. She became an uncompromising, vocal activist, campaigning against animal cruelty, fur farming, whaling and bullfighting. But Bardot courted controversy from the mid-1990s for her far-right political views, remarks about Islam and immigration and repeated convictions for inciting racial hatred. She publicly defended disgraced actor Gérard Depardieu and pushed back on the #MeToo movement in France. Such statements damaged her reputation, especially outside France, and created a troubling image: the once-liberating sex symbol now associated with nationalist conservatism. While she never identified as a feminist, her unapologetic autonomy, early retirement and outspoken views led some to re-evaluate her as a figure of proto-feminist rebellion. France gradually began to turn against Bardot, bothered by her outspoken views. But some applauded her couldn’t-care-less attitude and unwillingness to play by the rules. Ultimately, by rejecting fame on her own terms, she parlayed her 50s free-spiritedness into a bold stand against conformity and societal norms. Late in life, she told Danièle Thompson, the writer-director of the 2023 mini-series about her career, “I don’t understand why the whole world is still talking about me”. The answer is simple – Bardot continues to fascinate us, flaws and all. Ben McCann, Associate Professor of French Studies, University of Adelaide This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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Link: https://stmdailynews.com/hollywood-to-pickleball-josephs-inspiring-journey/

What makes a true Santa is inside – and comes with the red suit

Christina Hymer, University of Tennessee When you picture Santa Claus, a white, bearded, overweight and jolly man who dashes around delivering gifts to children during the Christmas season probably comes to mind. Yet, not everyone who dons the red suit fits this stereotype. That’s what Bethany Cockburn, Borbala Csillag and I learned when we teamed up to study professional Santas. For our study, we looked into how these professional Santas were able to “be” Santa, even if they didn’t fully fit the image. As we explained in a forthcoming article in the Academy of Management Journal, many who do this work don’t see it as just a job – it’s a calling. For some professional Santas, it’s especially important that they look and feel like Santa to experience that sense of purpose in their work. We surveyed 849 professional Santas who live across the U.S. and interviewed 53 of them, collecting data between 2018 and 2021. We identified three types of professional Santas: prototypical (64%), semi-prototypical (23%) and nonprototypical (13%). Prototypical Santas look the part. They are white and overweight, have real beards and express confidence that they are the right fit. Semi-prototypical Santas looked the part, too, but felt like they weren’t quite suitable for a range of reasons. They might be introverted or use a fake beard. Nonprototypical Santas had characteristics at odds with the stereotype. They might be nonwhite, female or gay, or have a physical disability.

Whereas prototypical Santas could easily slide into the Santa role, the process was more complex for the others. Semi-prototypical Santas did things like come up with stories they’d tell themselves or share with children to explain away their fake beards. Nonprototypical Santas had values aligned with the Santa image, such as being peaceful, loving and kind. But they still made a big effort to look like what people expect when they visit a Santa. “Should it be a difference if you’re a Jewish Santa Claus or a Catholic Santa Claus?” asked an atheist professional Santa we called “Santa Aquila.” “No. You’re Santa Claus. What do you do? You’re not even supposed to preach anything.” Another Santa whom we called “Santa Lynx” hid that she was female in part by flattening her chest.

Why it matters

While anyone can take a turn being their neighborhood potluck’s Santa, the one you meet at the mall probably attended some combination of Santa schools, webinars and training. For instance, the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School was founded in 1937 and conducts an annual Santa training each year. National networks also exist, such as the Fraternal Order of Real Bearded Santas, which says it has 1,000 members, – and the IBRBS, formerly known as the International Brotherhood of Real Bearded Santas, offering meetups and professional support.

There are also local organizations, such as the Lone Star Santas network in Texas. Although most professional Santas are paid for their work, many do this voluntarily. It’s not uncommon for there to be some sort of expectation around who should have a particular occupation. Pilots tend to be male, most schoolteachers are female, and salespeople are often seen as extroverted. But that doesn’t mean that women can’t be pilots, men can’t be teachers or that introverts can’t work in sales.

What’s next

I’m now looking at how broader institutional environments, current events and social movements can shape how people experience their callings and find meaning at work. The Research Brief is a short take on interesting academic work. Christina Hymer, Assistant Professor of Management and Entrepreneurship, University of Tennessee This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.