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Marsha Lederman is a columnist for The Globe and Mail.
I had Saturday, July 15, marked in my calendar for months. Madonna would be kicking off her Celebration world tour in Vancouver – and I was planning to do some serious celebrating.
But last month, Madonna postponed the tour after being hospitalized due to a “serious bacterial infection.” In a statement this week, she said she was on the road to recovery. The tour will now launch in Europe in October, and hit North America afterward.
Along with the outpouring of concern came all sorts of sexist speculation about the real cause of her health issues – a botched procedure? An overdose? The tawdry coverage that has followed Madonna throughout her amazing career was once again on grand display.
Remember what happened after she appeared at the Grammy Awards this year? There was a deluge of reaction not to her performance, but her puffy visage. “Madonna’s new face is more than an eyesore, it’s a complete betrayal,” screamed a New York Post headline.
A modern-day, misogynistic twist on Helen of Troy, Madonna of Los Angeles (and Lisbon, and many other international addresses) was the face that launched 1,000 bad takes.
There were think pieces about what Madonna’s cosmetic surgery strategy has signalled to her fans, what it says about our culture. And then think pieces about the think pieces. As Belinda Luscombe wrote in Time, “It’s not as if older female celebrities who don’t look as manufactured as Madonna are widely lauded.” She pointed out that nobody was heaping praise on Rosie O’Donnell for aging gracefully.
Madonna called the sexist ageism out and two weeks later cheekily tweeted a new photo of herself. “Look how cute I am now that swelling from surgery has gone down. Lol.”
Madonna should not have to LOL about any of this. What would possibly require this absolute queen to be a good sport about being face-shamed?
According to the Daily Mail, Madonna was “deeply affected” by the criticism and stressed about making the tour perfect – including honing her appearance to look more natural.
Though it’s impossible to know her motivations, it’s a fair assumption that a woman of Madonna’s age (64) and star power – not to mention her means – feels some pressure to satisfy the impossible standards our patriarchal society has imposed on us. (Even if other women are at times the worst offenders.)
It’s depressing that someone as important as Madonna can be reduced to a punchline because of how she presents herself – even as she lies in a hospital bed. We should be bowing down to her as an elder statesperson of popular culture. A trailblazer. A fighter – and not just for herself. She championed LGBTQ rights before the term existed. She demonstrated that good branding could be as important an avenue to pop superstardom as a good voice. She was irreverent, outspoken and fun. Shameless – in the best way. So for Gen-X women like me, it’s particularly galling to see her shamed.
Because of Madonna, we have Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Taylor Swift. Because of Madonna, we have Madonna: a masterful, sex-positive, fashion-forward self-promoter. She should be revered for all of this. You know a man would be.
But when it comes to undergoing a critical assessment of your appearance, it doesn’t seem to matter if you have such achievements under your Boy Toy belt. Or even if you are the goddess that is Jane Fonda.
Julia Louis-Dreyfus (who co-starred in Inside Amy Schumer’s must-see sketch on aging as a woman in Hollywood) recently launched a podcast, Wiser Than Me, in which she receives life lessons from older women.
On the premiere episode, Fonda, 85, told Louis-Dreyfus that she regretted having plastic surgery and discussed her aging body. “I wouldn’t be able to get undressed in front of a new lover,” Fonda said.
I felt so sad hearing that. And angry. How many men would deprive themselves of intimacy because of what their clothing was masking underneath? Particularly world-famous celebrities. Do you think 83-year-old Al Pacino felt bad about his thighs before impregnating his much younger girlfriend?
The differing standards applied to aging men and women are crazy-making.
Like many other middle-aged women, I have thought about the possibility of undergoing some sort of cosmetic procedure. This was something I had soundly rejected as a younger woman. Then, things started to droop. And Botox became a thing. Like Nora Ephron before me, I’m starting to feel bad about my neck. And my eyes. In particular, the dark undereye circles that have stumped artists at some of the best make-up counters in the country.
If concealer can’t do the job, I have wondered, is there some sort of procedure that could? I never get very far down this road – not simply because of personal philosophy. But also because of finances – and priorities. I would rather renovate my kitchen than my face. Madonna does not have to make these choices. And if these procedures make her feel good, good for her. (Also, for the record, I can’t afford to renovate my kitchen, either. Thanks, Bank of Canada!)
Following this health scare, Madonna’s tour will attract even more attention. It’s a safe bet a lot of that will be directed toward her face. Me, I look forward to reading about – and eventually experiencing – the actual content: her performance. The dazzle of her Celebration Tour. There is so much to celebrate. Let’s do that, okay? It would be so nice.
What else we’re thinking about:
A colleague suggested years ago that I watch PEN15. I resisted, in large part, I admit, because of the juvenile name. But on a recent flight, I watched eight episodes straight between Toronto and Vancouver – and the rest on CBC Gem after I got home. This show is so smart, funny, real. So cringey in the best possible way. Created by Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle, the women play young versions of themselves navigating Grade 7 in 2000. They are so good at adapting the awkward physicality and vocal quirks of adolescence that I was shocked when I noticed in the credits that the 13-year-old main characters were played by the adult women who created them. The subject matter is often familiar – crushes, menstruation, mean girls – but also goes beyond to deal with topics untouched by many of the show’s predecessors, including racism, masturbation and social class. It is an absolute delight. Don’t wait for your next flight to watch it.
Marianne
Marianne Kushmaniuk for The Globe and Mail
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