Sunday 7 October 2012

At Last. Something Beautiful You Can Own.

So this weekend I've basically smashed through the fifth series of Mad Men. I have been dying to see it. Every friend of mine has said, "Oh my God. That episode. That episode." And I think this is what I've just watched.

Mad Men is a strange beast, which takes the viewer back to a time of, let's face it, better dresses, better hair, better work stylee. By work stylee, I refer to the fact that all the men have untold numbers of bottles in their office, seem able to take naps at whim, and have "an apartment in the city" as a euphemism for a bit on the side. Wherefore are those days gone.

However the uncomfortable side of the late 60's Mad Men displays in glorious technicolour, is the all-too comfortable relegation of women to mere playthings. Peggy, a talented copywriter, is consistently passed over for jobs based on the simple fact she's a woman: "We can't have a woman working on a car account", says Don, the surprising hero of the piece. Betty, a fallen model on her second marriage is relegated to a now apparently overweight housewife who needs to go to WeightWatchers meetings to find a small sense of her former self-worth. And Joan. Beautiful, composed, cutting Joan, whom to all outsiders has the world at her feet. Joan, who is pushed into a world of corporate prostitution, to try and form her own mark on a company. For a sense of duty; for her employer, SCDP.  For the company. For the men that run it.

And sometimes I wonder, are things that much different these days? I have worked in many companies, often headed up by alpha males, who would demand a certain level of submission to their own bawdy hilarity in order to "fit in". How much further than this does the tide turn, for women, into the prostitution of their own self? Where do we draw the line? Where it becomes okay for some jokes to pass, and where some hit below the belt (as it were)? Where do we say, "Hey, these jokes about my arse being enormous were hilarious, and everyone seems to be enjoying them, but now I'm getting a bit pissed off?"

 I know what the majority of people will say about this. "Why would you put up with this? Complain to HR! Make your point!" But anyone who says that has never been in this position. Relationships, particularly in work, are a billion times more complicated than that. And most of the time, unfortunately, it's just not that easy.

Are we too sensitive? Should we be pulling up every person who makes a joke about someone's tits, at the risk of being that killjoy? Or is it better to just fit in, laugh along with the jokes, all the while thinking how much you despise this moment in time, whilst knowing that if you just fit in, if you just carry on, everything will probably be just fine.

Joan ended up experiencing the hardest end of this dilemma. I don't envy her. But I sincerely wonder, some times, if we've moved as far beyond these apparently long-left-behind times as we like to think.