Article. Television, Generation X, and Third Wave Feminism: a contextual analysis of The Brady Bunch

*Marinucci, Mimi.: Television, Generation X, and Third Wave Feminism: a
contextual analysis of The Brady Bunch.
*/Journal of Popular Culture (Popular Culture Center, Bowling Green
State Univ., OH)/ (38:3) [Feb 2005] , p.505-524.

*Abstract* (Document Summary)

According to Marinucci, there is an obvious chronological connection
between Generation X and the Third Wave feminism. The Brady Bunch stands
out as a pop culture icon with which this generation is especially
obsessed. Drawing on both the content and context of The Brady Bunch,
she explores the connection between Third Wave feminist attitudes and
the so-called Generation X attitude.

*Full Text* (8280 words)
/Copyright Popular Culture Association Feb 2005/



THERE IS AN OBVIOUS CHRONOLOGICAL CONNECTION BETWEEN Generation X and
Third Wave feminism. Neil Howe and Bill Strauss define Generation X as
the generation born between 1961 and 1981, while Rob Owen includes only
those born between 1965 and 1975. Similarly, Jennifer Baumgardner and
Amy Richards describe Third Wave feminism as the feminism of women and,
in some cases, men who were raised in the seventies-hence, during the
women's liberation movement. Although these chronological definitions
are useful, they do not capture what people seem to have in mind when
these labels are applied. The labels "Gen X" and "Third Wave?" are also
used to characterize distinctive attitudes associated with this
generation. Rob Owen captures the Gen X attitude when he claims that
"Generation X loves irony, postmodernism and, basically, goofing on
things that are presented seriously" (10). Helene Shugart refers to a
Gen X "aesthetic" that is characterized by "camp, satire, cynicism,
irony, and outrageousness" (136). In addition, Gen X exhibits a
"fascination with retro, especially 1970s, pop culture" (136). The Brady
Bunch stands out as a pop culture icon with which this generation is
especially obsessed. Drawing on both the content and context of The
Brady Bunch, I explore the connection between Third Wave feminist
attitudes and the so-called Generation X attitude.

I am not the first to acknowledge a connection between Generation X and
Third Wave feminism. For example, Helene Shugart suggests that Third
Wave feminism is best characterized "as a subculture of the larger
rhetorical phenomenon of Generation X rather than a phase or
contemporary incarnation of feminism" (134). Like Shugart, I believe
that there is a meaningful connection, and not just a trivial
chronological concurrence, between Gen X attitudes and the attitudes
associated with Third Wave feminism. Unlike Shugart, I suggest that
profeminist attitudes and antifeminist attitudes among members of this
generation can both be understood in terms of the larger Gen X attitude.
In other words, the same attitudes that contribute to the dismissal of
feminism by so many Gen X women also account for the particular brand of
feminism adopted by the Third Wave. One of the earliest uses of the term
"Third Wave" was in Rebecca Walker's 1992 response to a declaration by
The New York Times that we had entered an era of postfeminism. Walker
commented in Ms. magazine, "I am not a postfeminism feminist. I am the
Third Wave" (qtd. in Baumgardner and Richards 77). This exchange is
symptomatic of an ongoing struggle to define the values of a generation
that is widely perceived, or perhaps misperceived, as aimless and apathetic.

As a member of this generation, I have an obvious stake in correcting
false media stereotypes about who we are and what we care about. As
suggested by the term "slacker," the apathy with which we have been
charged extends beyond the realm of feminism. For example, when Beck-who
is neither a loser nor a slacker, but rather an innovative and prolific
artist-sang "I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me," his words were
promptly misconstrued as something of a Gen X anthem. It seems to me,
however, that cynicism, not apathy, is the overriding characteristic
that best describes the attitude of my generation. To the extent that
some members of my generation are apathetic, this apathy is derivative
of our collective cynicism. For many of us, however, that same cynicism
gives us a critical perspective on various aspects of mainstream culture
that deserve scrutiny.

My generation grew up in front of the TV, and we grew up knowing that we
should not trust the media (Hornblower). Unfortunately, knowing that we
should not trust the media did not always shield us from the media's
influence. We were savvy enough to recognize, for instance, that the
antidrug "get high on life" movies shown in elementary and junior high
schools were part of a parental conspiracy to prevent us from having
fun, but we were not savvy enough to recognize that we actually could
have lived without the dolls, action figures, and breakfast cereals
advertised during our favorite shows. Now that we are older, many of us
still are not quite savvy enough to realize that our preference for Coke
over Pepsi, or vice versa, says absolutely nothing of real consequence
about our underlying character. In other words, Gen X cynicism does not
always yield a principled critical response to consumer culture. Often
enough, it yields only a generalized sense that things should not be
taken too seriously, and this sentiment is punctuated with a sarcastic
roll of the eyes.

This is the same sarcastic roll of the eyes that accompanies the
familiar "I'm not a feminist, but . . ." through which many women
downplay their commitment to basic feminist principles (see Griffin;
Kamen; Misciagno). In at least some cases, the rolling eyes are saying,
"Of course equality of opportunity is important, but we have that
already. If you're still complaining about sexism, you must be taking
things too seriously." "Duh!" The Gen X stricture against taking things
too seriously applies, not just to others, but to ourselves as well. It
is evident in the lighthearted cooptation by Third Wave feminists of
various labels that were seen by many second Wave feminists as symbolic
of women's oppression. Terms such as girl, bitch, slut, cunt, and queer
have entered the standard lexicon of the Third Wave. In the case of
girl, for example, this is because many of us no longer take the label
very seriously:

Calling an adult woman "girl" was once insulting, like calling an adult
black man "boy." But now that we can choose the word ourselves and not
have it forced on us, "girl" is increasingly rehabilitated as a term of
relaxed familiarity, comfy confidence, the female analogue to "guy"-and
not a way of belittling adult women. (Baumgardner and Richards 52)

In other cases, the use of formerly oppressive terminology reflects the
underlying belief that powerful words can be reclaimed and enlisted in
service of a feminist agenda. According to Inga Muscio, "Even if 'cunt'
were simply four spontaneous letters someone strung together one day
'cause his wife didn't have dinner on the table when he got home from a
hard day's labor offing witches or indigenous peoples, it is still our
word" (22-23). And for this reason, she uses the word on her own terms
for her own ends. Similarly, when a sexually uninhibited feminist
proudly chooses to label herself a slut, her willingness to engage in a
bit of lighthearted self-mockery is a small but important step toward
eliminating the sexual double standard.

Although it is not always politically charged, lighthearted
"self-mockery" (Hornblower) is the cornerstone of Gen X humor. We are no
less nostalgic about our childhood than any other generation, but the
nostalgia of my generation is different from the nostalgia of, say, our
parents' generation. When older generations reminisce about the "good
old days," they seem to do so with a genuine appreciation for the values
of a bygone era. When my generation looks back, we do so with the very
clear understanding that we were never quite as cool as we thought we
were. Our appreciation for humor that pokes fun at the pop culture of
our youth is especially evident in the popularity of The Brady Bunch as
a source of parody. Satirical tributes to The Brady Bunch have taken the
form of sketches on Saturday Night Live, a live stage show,1 two feature
films,2 several books,3 and numerous Web sites.4 For this reason, I
suggest first that The Brady Bunch is worthy of analysis as part of the
shared history of a generation that experienced childhood during the
seventies, and, second, that understanding the success of The Brady
Bunch means understanding the generation that made The Brady Bunch
successful and vice versa. Furthermore, if an analysis of The Brady
Bunch is a potential source of insight about Gen X attitudes, and I
think it is, then an analysis of The Brady Bunch in connection with
feminism is a potential source of insight about Gen X attitudes toward
feminism.

The Brady Bunch is closely identified with seventies youth culture,
though its wholesome character is reminiscent of the sixties genre of
family shows such as Leave it to Beaver. Nevertheless, we should resist
the temptation to assume that the reason we embraced The Brady Bunch in
an era associated with sexual exploration and rising divorce rates was
because it provided the good old-fashioned family values that real-life
family relationships of the seventies lacked. On this assumption, the
sickening sweetness for which critics panned The Brady Bunch after its
1969 debut (E! True Hollywood Story) is precisely what the viewing
public wanted to see. I do not deny that The Brady Bunch is in fact
quite wholesome, nor do I deny that the generation that grew up with The
Brady Bunch also grew up in an era marked by changes in gender roles and
family structures, but I do deny that we actually took the show's
traditional values to heart. If the success of The Brady Bunch were in
fact attributable to the decline of the family, we would expect to find
a clear correlation between the popularity of The Brady Bunch and high
divorce rates. For this reason, it is worth exploring the relationship
between seventies sitcoms and divorce rates, as well as the relationship
between the popularity of The Brady Bunch and the popularity of other
seventies shows.

The Brady Bunch was only a minor hit during its prime-time run from 1969
to 1974. It found a loyal niche audience of kids and teens, but it
earned mediocre ratings. Following syndication in 1976, it began airing
every afternoon nationwide. The show was arguably more popular in
syndication than it ever was in prime time, as evidenced by its 1986
rise to the number one slot on the TBS Network (E! True Hollywood
Story). At 4.9 divorces per 1,000 people per year, the 1986 divorce rate
was quite high, but it was not sufficiently higher than the divorce rate
of 4.6 in 1974 (US Centers for Disease Control, 1989), when the show was
canceled, and thus did not explain this dramatic and delayed increase in
popularity. Moreover, as the popularity of The Brady Bunch increased
steadily throughout the eighties and nineties, the divorce rate
decreased slightly (US Centers for Disease Control, 1995). Thus, the
divorce statistics do not support a correlation between our nostalgic
love of The Brady Bunch and the failure of the traditional family.

A number of sitcoms featuring nontraditional families and independent
women emerged in the seventies. The success of these shows suggests that
the public, or at least a large portion of it, accepted the changing
gender and family roles associated with the seventies. Consider, for
example, Mary Tyler Moore (1970-1977), Maude (1972-1978), One Day at a
Time (1975-1984), Alice (1976-1985), What's Happening (1976-1979), and
even Laverne and Shirley (1976-1983). Each of these shows depicts single
or divorced women working outside the home. Examples of seventies
sitcoms depicting more traditional gender roles include All in the
Family (1971-1979), Happy Days (1974-1984), Good Times (1974-1980), and
The Jeffersons (1975-1985).

Good Times and The Jeffersons were among the first shows centered on
black characters, and their lack of attention to changing family and
gender roles was balanced by their attention to racial issues. Although
All in the Family featured a politically conservative working-class
white couple, the show itself delivered a liberal message and challenged
racist stereotypes. Indeed, The Jeffersons began as a spin-off of All in
the Family. Similarly, Good Times was a spin-off of Maude, a show with a
particularly feminist edge,5 which was another spin-off of All in the
Family. All of these shows were produced or developed by Norman Lear,
who is often credited with changing the history of television by using
it as a forum for the expression of his liberal politics. Instead of
offering refuge from the turbulence of social change, these shows
brought that turbulence into our living rooms and into our collective
consciousness.

All in the Family was the highest rated show for five consecutive years
beginning with the 1971 - 1972 season, but this pattern ended when Happy
Days took the lead as the highest rated show of the 1976-1977 season.6
By the time Happy Days surpassed All in the Family in the ratings, the
divorce rate in the United States had reached an unprecedented high of
5.0 divorces or annulments per 1,000 people per year (US Centers for
Disease Control, March 1995). The world of difference separating All in
the Family from Happy Days is too vast to describe in detail, but it is
worth noting that while All in the Family confronted the clash between
the developing social consciousness of the seventies and the sexist and
racist attitudes of our collective past, Happy Days emerged as a
cheerful celebration of traditional family life in the uncomplicated
fifties. This nostalgic theme suggests that a connection between the
success of Happy Days and a reactionary cultural attitude toward
changing family and gender roles is at least plausible.7

In contrast, The Brady Bunch enjoyed its own limited prime-time success
around the time of the overwhelming popularity of All in the Family. It
was canceled the season before the 1974 Happy Days debut, and a full two
years before Happy Days replaced All in the Family as the highest rated
show. If the success of Happy Days is in fact attributable in some part
to a widespread longing to return to the way things once were, it would
be a mistake to assume without question that the popularity of The Brady
Bunch warrants the same explanation. It would make at least as much
sense to view the success of The Brady Bunch as a reflection of the same
culture that embraced All in the Family and other more controversial shows.

It would also make sense to view the success of The Brady Bunch as a
reflection of the same culture that the ABC network executives had in
mind when they included The Brady Bunch in what turned out to be a
classic Friday night TV lineup with The Partridge Family and Love
American Style. The Partridge Family featured a rock band composed of a
widowed single mother and her five children. Tame by today's standards,
The Partridge Family was certainly hip to the times. Oldest son Keith
wore his hair long, and the band rode to gigs in an old school bus that
they had painted with flower power flair. Mom dated. The older kids
dated. Sex lurked in the background of all of this dating. Sex moved
into the forefront on Love American Style, which consisted of a series
of vignettes about the pains and joys of romance. This show was
controversial enough to prompt many parents to prohibit their kids from
watching it. The audience that these shows targeted, arguably the same
audience that The Brady Bunch targeted, was not seeking a wholesome
retreat from the depravity of the seventies.

Quite simply, a close analysis of divorce statistics does not support a
correlation between the popularity of The Brady Bunch and the failure of
the traditional family. Thus, it does not seem plausible that a
generation of children turned to The Brady Bunch for a comforting
retreat from the reality of changing family structures. Indeed, it would
be quite an undertaking to explain why the generation that continues to
love The Brady Bunch also fell in love with decidedly unwholesome shows
such as Beavis and Butthead and South Park if our ongoing fascination
with The Brady Bunch were best explained by reference to good
old-fashioned values. It is important to keep in mind that the
popularity of The Brady Bunch came gradually. By the time it was a bona
fide success-that is to say, by the time it reached its status as an
icon of seventies culture-it was successful as kitsch. We did not take
the Brady Family too seriously. Instead, we laughed at them. And when we
laughed at them, it was not because we found humor in the contrived
plots and goofy punch lines per se, but because it was all just too
ridiculous to be taken seriously. Much funnier than the jokes themselves
was the fact that a team of writers had believed them to be funny enough
to include in the show. Just as we knew that real bathrooms have
toilets, we also knew that real families deal with far more shit than
the Brady Family. If the confusing sociopolitical climate of the
seventies had any impact on our reaction to The Brady Bunch, it was only
to the extent that it left us jaded about the ideals upheld by earlier
generations.

I suggest that the special sort of love we have for The Brady Bunch is
symbolic of the sarcasm and irony that are the hallmarks of the Gen X
attitude. Other members of this generation understand what it means to
love The Brady Bunch. It does not mean that we think that the show is
good, at least not in any customary sense, and it does not mean that we
buy (or bought) into the values it fosters. More often than not, it
means that The Brady Bunch strikes us, in the words of South Park
character Stan Marsh, as "cheesy and lame, yet eerily soothing at the
same time" (Episode 106, "Death").8 By dismissing The Brady Bunch as
harmless kitsch, we deemed the messages we believed the show to be
presenting as unworthy of our attention. Because the sexist messages of
The Brady Bunch were often hidden beneath an egalitarian faÁade,
however, our dismissive attitude left us vulnerable to the show's subtly
sexist subtext.

The sexist subtext of The Brady Bunch is particularly evident in "The
Liberation of Marcia Brady" (Episode 44), which first aired in 1971 on
the heels of the formation of the National Organization for Women and
the birth of the women's liberation movement. Indeed, the 1969-1974
prime-time run of The Brady Bunch coincided with a number of significant
events in the history of Second Wave feminism. Consider, for example,
that the US Congress passed the Equal Rights Amendment in 1972, even if
it was not ratified by all fifty states. Consider the campaign for the
repeal of laws prohibiting abortion and the 1973 landmark US Supreme
Court ruling in Roe v. Wade. Consider the 1969 Stonewall riot, which
launched the gay liberation movement. Also consider that the social
changes associated with the seventies belonged to adults. Kids of the
seventies were not out changing the world. Often enough, we were home
watching TV, and those of us watching "The Liberation of Marcia Brady"
learned to dismiss the activism of an older generation as a case of
taking things too seriously.

In "The Liberation of Marcia Brady," Marcia is caught off guard when a
television news reporter asks for her opinion about equality between the
sexes, and she goes on record claiming that girls should be given the
same opportunities as boys. She considers the possibility of getting
"clobbered" by Mike and the Brady boys only after she has spoken up. By
then it is too late to take it back, and her family sees the interview
on the evening news. Her brothers tease her until she finally vows to
find a way to prove, once and for all, that girls really can do anything
boys can do. The official storyline follows Marcia through the
successful completion of a series of challenging tasks in her initiation
into Greg's formerly all-male club, the Frontier Scouts. In a side plot,
the boys attempt to get even by having Peter join the Sunflower Girls.

On the face of it, this episode affirms the equality of boys and girls.
Beneath the surface, however, the message is decidedly less feminist.
Consider, for example, the brief exchange following Marcia's appearance
on the evening news. Marcia asks her parents if they are angry about
what she said. They are not angry, of course, because, as Mike explains,
everyone is entitled to express an opinion. After Marcia leaves the
room, however, Mike carelessly remarks that kids "get worked up about
the craziest things." When Carol takes offense to this comment, Mike
points out that some of the demands of feminism are "pretty far out."
Carol then responds by saying, "Well, I've never gone out marching, but
I do believe in some of their causes." We will never know precisely
which feminist ideals Mike Brady deems too far out to be implemented,
but we do know that, for both Mike and Carol, feminism is something that
should not be taken too far. Reasonable people may agree with some basic
feminist principles, but they do not get worked up enough to go out
marching.

As we learn by the end of the episode, silly Marcia has indeed taken
feminism too far. After finally-and just barely-completing the various
feats of strength in her Frontier Scouts initiation, she decides not to
join the club after all. She wanted to prove to the boys that she could
pass the test, but when it is time for the first meeting, she would
rather stay home and read Carol's new fashion magazine instead. The
overtly feminist message that girls can succeed at so-called masculine
activities is undermined by the subtle message that girls do not
actually enjoy masculine activities. Together, these messages reiterate
Carol's hands-off approach to feminism. "I've never gone out marching,
but . . ." is reminiscent of the familiar "I'm not a feminist, but . .
." dismissal of feminism. Because the women of my generation were raised
with the slogan, "Girls can do anything boys can do," and because we
were still young enough to believe that we lived in a world of unlimited
opportunity, Marcia's campaign struck us as superfluous. We rolled our
eyes and rejected this episode's overt message about the equality of the
sexes as unworthy of continued attention. Unlike the pioneers of
feminism's First and Second Waves, we saw no need to go out marching.9

Meanwhile, this episode's implicit message that the feminine gender role
is less demanding than the masculine role escaped our notice. I should
reiterate that The Brady Bunch reached the peak of its popularity in
syndication, when we watched it daily, sometimes even in double doses.
Our dismissive attitude, along with repeated viewing, left us vulnerable
to its subtly sexist subtext. Consider, for example, Peter's attempt to
illustrate Marcia's folly by becoming the first male Sunflower Girl.
Unlike the Frontier Scouts, the Sunflower Girls welcome their newest
member without subjecting him to any tests or grueling initiation rites.
He receives a supply of cookies immediately and sells a box at the first
house he visits, but this success just adds to the humiliation he
already feels. Evidently, it is a little easier for Peter to become a
Sunflower Girl than he expected, and this makes him uncomfortable. While
Marcia's experience suggests that the ability to master the masculine
domain is a significant accomplishment, Peter's experience suggests that
the feminine domain is the available default for anyone, male or female,
who is unable to conquer the challenge of masculinity.

This episode is not unusual. Even the basic premise of The Brady Bunch
has sexist undertones. The Brady Family consists of two recently married
parents (Mike and Carol), six children (Greg, Marcia, Peter, Jan, Bobby,
and Cindy), a live-in housekeeper (Alice), and a dog (Tiger). When Mike,
an architect, added Carol and her three girls to his own brood of three
boys, he designed a new house for his new family. The Brady home is
rather large, so we must assume that Mike made a conscious decision to
confine all six kids to two bedrooms and one bathroom. The close
quarters might help to explain the ease with which the Brady kids settle
into their new life together. Indeed, the whole family seems to forget
the past almost immediately after the pilot episode, which features the
wedding between Mike and Carol. Even in the pilot episode, however,
there is no direct reference to the possible underlying premise that
Carol's first marriage ended in divorce,10 and the death of Mike's first
wife is addressed only once, and indirectly, when Mike assures his
youngest boy, Bobby, that he is not expected to forget his first mother
(Pilot Episode, "The Honeymoon"). Although Carol implies in the same
episode that the years leading up to her wedding to Mike were
emotionally painful, she makes no mention of her first husband.

For those who missed the pilot, the opening theme song reviews the Brady
Family history at the beginning of each new episode, tracing the
formation of the Brady Bunch to the merger of four lonely men with one
lovely golden-haired lady and three very lovely golden-haired girls.
Because the possibility of Carol's divorce is addressed in neither the
pilot episode nor the theme song, she is typically assumed to have been
a widow. The show's creator, Sherwood Schwartz, may have found
inspiration for The Brady Bunch in the nation's growing divorce rate (E!
True Hollywood Story), but the show does little to reflect the unique
challenges surrounding divorce and remarriage. The Brady Bunch
effectively ignores Carol's background, thereby suggesting that such
details are either shameful or unimportant. This message that divorce is
too shameful to discuss runs counter to the feminist insight that, for
some women and their children, divorce solves more problems than it creates.

While the decision to keep a lid on Carol's background sends one subtly
sexist message, another is sent by the decision to explain Mike's
custody of his children via the death of their mother. In keeping with
an earlier television trend, The Brady Bunch justified its portrayal of
a full-time single father by killing off the mother, as though it would
be unthinkable for a father to care for his children under more mundane
circumstances. Even then, however, the typical television father needs
help, and help often comes in the form of a sexless spinster with no
family of her own.12 Mike Brady is no exception, nor is his housekeeper,
Alice Nelson. Alice makes no secret of her desire to be married, and
viewers are left to assume that she is single, not by choice, but
because she lacks what it takes to land herself a man. She has the
occasional bowling elate with Sam the Butcher, but he is unwilling to
offer her a more serious commitment. In one episode, she is courted by
an old flame, Mark Millard (Episode 48, "Alice's September Song"). Mike
and Carol soon discover, however, that Alice's suitor is simply trying
to dupe her out of her nest egg through a sleazy investment scam.
Evidently, it is simply unthinkable that a man might take a genuine
romantic interest in Alice.

In a television world bent on perpetuating the false dichotomy between
women who are sexually desirable and women who are competent in other
respects, Alice's sexual deficiency is balanced by her domestic
proficiency. By way of contrast, Carol represents the best of both
worlds. She is not quite a blonde bombshell, but she does make herself
attractive and sexually available to her husband. She is not a domestic
virtuoso, but she does know her way around the kitchen well enough to
offer Alice some occasional assistance. Although Alice could probably
manage the Brady household without Carol's help, Carol does not, as a
rule, venture into the masculine world of work outside the home.
Instead, she respects the boundary between feminine and masculine roles,
devoting time and energy to the little details that set her apart as an
exceptional wife and mother. Her close attention to Mike and the kids is
possible thanks to Alice's role within the Brady household, and Alice's
role in the Brady household is a tribute to Mike's financial fitness. In
addition to suggesting that some women, like Alice, are particularly
well suited for domestic work, while other women, like Carol, are
particularly well suited to employ them, The Brady Bunch also suggests
that a good wife costs good money.

The contrast between Alice and Carol reveals that feminine charm and
social class are reverse sides of the same coin. In a symbolic gesture
of subservience, Alice addresses Mike and Carol as Mr. and Mrs. Brady.
In an equally symbolic gesture of superiority, every member of the Brady
family addresses Alice by her first name. In fact, when Bobby draws an
analogy between Alice and Tiger, the family dog, Mike does not argue.
Instead, he agrees that Tiger is as much a part of the family as Alice,
and Tiger is permitted to accompany the boys to their father's wedding
after all. Apparently, Alice's inferiority as a woman in particular
echoes her inferiority as a person in general. The connection between
class and femininity is reiterated in the training that the Brady girls
receive in preparation for their future lives as wives and mothers. Like
Carol, all three girls engage in recreational cooking and sewing. In the
quintessential display of femininity as class privilege, the Brady girls
occasionally dress up in fluffy pastel tutus to take lessons in grace,
poise, and the feminine art of ballet.

The importance of gender role conformity, particularly for girls, is a
recurring theme on The Brady Bunch. When Jan develops a crush on Clark
Tyson, who in turn develops a crush on Marcia, the whole family takes
notice (Episode 38, "The Not-So-Ugly Duckling"). Embarrassed by this
failure, Jan invents an imaginary boyfriend, George Glass. Her family
discovers the truth, however, and Carol takes matters into her own
hands. After pressuring Clark into revealing that he likes Jan, but only
as a friend, Carol puts Jan in a short, frilly dress and parades her in
front of Clark. This elicits an appropriately lustful response, and the
Brady Family celebrates by throwing Jan a surprise birthday bash in
honor of her blossoming femininity. Sometimes, a makeover is all a girl
needs to achieve her full potential. This message arises again when
Marcia transforms the awkward and unpopular Molly Webber into the lovely
winner of the Senior Banquet Night Hostess competition (Episode 71, "My
Fair Opponent"). In this episode, Carol even refers to the beauty advice
contained in her women's magazine as an article on "improving yourself."

In addition to teaching the importance of self-improvement through
cosmetic makeover, The Brady Bunch teaches the importance of moderation
and restraint. When Molly Webber gets overly absorbed in her sexy new
look, for example, we learn that too much confidence is just as bad as
too little. Similarly, Jan's attempt to distinguish herself from her
blonde siblings by wearing a black wig to Lucy Winters' birthday party
is too extreme (Episode 42, "Will the Real Jan Brady Please Stand Up").
Her friends assume that the wig is a joke, and Jan leaves the party in
tears. In this episode, Jan learns the value of being true to oneself.
When Marcia joins every club at Westdale High School to become more
popular, she learns the same lesson (Episode 78, "Today I Am a
Freshman"). When Greg dresses like a hippy to impress a groovy older
chick (Episode 43, "Our Son, The Man") and Peter talks like Humphrey
Bogart to seem less dull (Episode 54, "The Personality Kid"), they too
learn this lesson.

In striking contrast to this lesson, Marcia learns a seemingly
contradictory lesson when she develops a crush on Harvey Klinger
(Episode 25, "Going, Going . . . Steady"). Carol and Mike advise Marcia
to feign a common interest with Harvey in order to win his affection.
Harvey likes bugs, so Carol assists Marcia in her new hobby by teaching
her the scientific names of various insects and paying the boys to
gather specimens for her new collection. Harvey finally notices Marcia,
and the couple goes steady until Marcia is ready to move on to another
boy, and then another after that. Where so many other episodes of The
Brady Bunch teach the value of sincerity, this episode seems to teach
the value of deception. By depicting Marcia's ability to win Harvey's
attention as a sign of her aptitude for the fine art of seduction,
however, this episode sends a similar message as the episode in which
Jan seduces Clark Tyson. In both episodes, gender role conformity reaps
rewards for the Brady girls.

The Brady Bunch reinforces the boundary between femininity and
masculinity again in the episode in which Mike and Carol switch chores
for the day (Episode 8, "The Grass Is Always Greener"). While Mike
fumbles around in the kitchen as Marcia works on her cooking badge,
Carol endures a day of baseball practice with the boys. By evening, two
exhausted parents have learned that men are better suited for masculine
activities than women, and that women are better suited for feminine
activities than men. Like Marcia's attempt to join the Frontier Scouts,
this brief experiment in gender bending ends with the affirmation that
the distinction between the domain of femininity and the domain of
masculinity mirrors a fundamental difference between the biological
sexes. The association of femininity and masculinity with natural
differences between women and men betrays an underlying commitment to
gender essentialism. By framing gender role transgressions as a threat
to the delicate balance of nature, gender essentialism is a particularly
effective way to enforce the boundary between femininity and masculinity.

The episode in which the Brady Family discovers that the girls have been
collecting trading stamps to exchange for a sewing machine while the
boys have been saving them for a rowboat (Episode 11, "54-40 and Fight")
presupposes a fundamental difference between girls and boys. After
learning that the trading stamp redemption deadline is just around the
corner, the kids opt to pool their resources, but the differences
between the girls and the boys seem insurmountable. They are unable to
identify even a single prize that would be equally appealing to both, so
they decide to choose between a sewing machine and a rowboat by holding
a contest between the girls and the boys. Again, the differences between
the girls and the boys seem insurmountable. After a fairly detailed
discussion of the various activities that would make for unfair
competition among girls and boys, however, they finally agree to
construct a house out of playing cards, and the first team to topple the
house will lose. Tiger upsets the table during Greg's turn, and the
girls win. At the store, the girls discover that there is at least one
item that would appeal to both girls and boys, and they redeem their
stamps for a color television instead of a sewing machine. Despite this
compromise, the episode takes for granted that, with very few
exceptions, girls and boys are simply too different to enjoy the same
prizes or to compete in the same activities.

Similarly, the episode that features the first Brady camping trip
reveals that girls are no match for boys in the great outdoors (Episode
12, "A-Camping We Will Go"). When the girls confess that they are not
looking forward to the trip, Carol encourages them to put the interests
of Mike and the boys ahead of their own. She explains, "We have three
new brothers and a new father, and if they like camping, we like
camping!" The girls prove to be something of a liability in the woods,
scaring the fish away with their incessant talking and screaming. Just
when it looks as though the family will have to go without dinner, Carol
produces a basket of cold cuts and fried chicken that she and the girls
packed for just such an emergency. Hungry and disappointed about all the
fish they should have caught, the boys are unable to resist committing
treason against their sex by eating what Greg refers to as "sissy food."
Once again, the underlying message is that women and girls are very
different from men and boys. Mike and the boys are sufficiently
resourceful to survive without the superfluous luxury of sissy food,
while Carol and the girls seem compelled by their nurturing instinct to
travel with the security and comfort of cold cuts and fried chicken.

Similar messages are repeated, casually and in passing, throughout many
episodes of The Brady Bunch. I will discuss just a few more
representative examples. For instance, in a very early episode, the
Brady girls demand equal access to the Brady boys' clubhouse (Episode 2,
"A Clubhouse Is Not a Home"). When Mike and the boys exclude them, Carol
decides that the girls should begin building a clubhouse of their own.
The point, however, is not actually to build a clubhouse, but to do such
a poor job that Mike and the boys will take pity and build it for them.
The scheme works, and Mike sends the girls to fetch lemonade while he
and the boys get to work.

The episode in which Mike Brady promotes responsible telephone usage by
installing a pay phone in the living room depicts various members of the
Bracly household engaged in long and costly telephone conversations
(Episode 9, "Sorry, Right Number"). The purpose of these scenes, of
course, is to demonstrate that the family is spending too much time on
the phone. At the same time, these scenes also convey information about
the sorts of topics that are likely to interest members of either sex.
For instance, Carol spends hours counseling her friend Martha through
the difficult process of deciding whether or not, and how high, to hem a
dress. Similarly, Jan counsels her friend Dorie through the difficult
process of deciding whether or not, and by what method, to bleach her
freckles, while Marcia and her friend discuss the various ways to
interpret a boy's apparent inattentiveness. In contrast, Mike uses the
phone for business, Greg follows in his father's footsteps by using the
phone to negotiate a trade with one of his friends, and Peter tutors a
classmate who is struggling with the "new math."

In the episode that pits Marcia against Greg in a race for the student
body presidency at Fillmore Junior High School, Marcia takes Carol's
advice and drops out of the election in order to let Greg have the honor
(Episode 13, "Vote for Brady"). In a later episode, Marcia begins
elating Greg's biggest rival, Warren Mulaney, and Greg retaliates by
dating Marcia's rival, Kathy Lawrence (Episode 57, "My Sister Benedict
Arnold"). When Marcia and Greg invite Warren and Kathy over for study
dates, both couples make comments to indicate that the boys will be
helping the girls with their homework, rather than the other way around.
In the episode that focuses on the confusion surrounding Greg's feigned
interest in pursuing a career in architecture, Peter and Jan express
their desire to go into medicine (Episode 78, "Career Fever"). Peter
decides that he will become a doctor, and Jan decides that she will
assist him as the nurse. At no time does any member of the Brady Family
acknowledge that Jan could choose to become a doctor instead of a nurse.

In each of these examples, male members of the Brady Family are
portrayed as more active, more productive, or more intelligent than
their female counterparts. Individually, any of these observations could
be dismissed as trivial. Together, they send a subtle but clear twofold
message, first about the fundamental distinction between masculinity and
femininity, and second about the inherent superiority of masculinity
over femininity. Nevertheless, my point is not that The Brady Bunch, or
any other TV show for that matter, is responsible for sexism in
contemporary culture. I suggest merely that my generation's attitude
toward The Brady Bunchy is characteristic of a pervasive cynicism that
underlies both the feminism and the antifeminism of that same
generation. For some, this cynicism yields a wholesale dismissal of the
ideals, including the feminist ideals, of the previous generation. For
others, it yields a reinterpretation of feminist ideals-a
reinterpretation that reflects our preference for lighthearted
self-mockery over reverent self-righteousness, as well as our sense that
savvy consumers of feminism should buy only those feminist ideals that
we find personally relevant. As a result, our feminism is diverse and
occasionally invites charges of self-contradiction.

Because Third Wave feminism is still a work in progress, I will focus on
common themes without attempting to provide a definition in terms of
necessary and sufficient criteria for category membership. Moreover,
because diversity and pluralism are common enough themes among the
newest generation of feminists, such definition may not be possible,
even in principle. Other common themes, as I have already suggested,
include sarcastic humor and lighthearted self-mockery, and these often
intersect with the similarly characteristic DIY (do it yourself)
approach adopted by much of the Third Wave, particularly those with
roots in zine (short for "magazine") culture. The early nineties, with
the widespread availability of good quality photocopiers, saw the
proliferation of homemade booklets filled with humor, essays, fiction,
artwork, and poetry by people who would have had very limited access to
more conventional forms of publication. Although zines vary in attitude
and style, many feminist zines (including online zines, or "e-zines")
are witty and fun, with a flair for taking domains once regarded as
patently nonfeminist, such as the sex industry14 or teen motherhood,15
and rendering them feminist.16 This is a feminism that refuses to find
contradiction in sporting itty-bitty T-shirts adorned with such labels
as "Porn Star" and "Breeder," or such logos as "Bitch" and "Bust" as
expressions of a well-developed feminist consciousness.17 Indeed, this
is a feminism that can criticize the objectification of women by men in
one breath, while embracing the notion of feminist porn in the next.

Admittedly, Second Wave feminists are divided about pornography. On the
one hand, the Dworkin-MacKinnon thesis asserts a connection between
pornography and harm to women (Dworkin; MacKinnon; Dworkin and
MacKinnon), while feminist fans of the First Amendment, particularly
Nadine Strossen, warn of the potential harm to women in a world without
freedom of speech. What they have in common is that neither position
entertains worthwhile questions about women's subjective relationships
to, and experiences of, porn. The unspoken assumption is that
pornography exists for the guilty pleasure of men, and the only
remaining question is whether the harm done by permitting this pleasure
outweighs the harm done by prohibiting it. In contrast, insofar as Third
Wave Feminists have begun to engage this issue, it has been with a sense
of humor and an eye toward women as potential consumers of pornography.
Consider the growing popularity of the newly reinvented burlesque show,
particularly among women, and the recent proliferation of images of
fifties pin-up star Betty Paige, particularly on handbags, cosmetics
cases, and other women's accessories. In both cases, the attitude of
female fans seems to involve both a mockery of the wholesome
world-gone-by in which a little cheesecake caused a big stir, and a
genuine appreciation of lustful femininity. This attitude is especially
evident in Candida Royalle's 2003 Stud Hunters, an adult film from Femme
Productions, a company Royalle created as a woman-centered alternative
to mainstream porn.18 The plot (yes, plot) of Stud Hunters portrays a
series of auditions for the casting of an erotic film by an empowered
and sexy female director. This self-parody is expanded even further
through a side plot featuring an old-schoo) feminist journalist who
opposes all pornography as degrading to women. Although Andrea Dworkin
is not mentioned by name, Royalle is obviously quite familiar with the
more traditional feminist perspective on pornography.

While I do not assume that all, or even most, female fans of burlesque
shows, pin-up art, and woman-centered porn would, or even should,
identify as feminists, I do believe that this playful cooptation
reflects a Gen X tendency to make light of things that other generations
took very seriously. For some, this characteristic unwillingness to take
things too seriously invites a wholesale rejection of the feminist
label, as in "All feminists hate porn. I don't mind a little cheesecake.
So I'm not a feminist!" For others, it invites new beliefs about what it
means to wear that label, as in "I'm a feminist. I don't mind a little
cheesecake. So not all feminists hate porn!"

Despite our distrust of blatant media messages, many Gen X women
unwittingly learned a great deal from the more subtle messages that we
did not even think to scrutinize. Too cool to re-enact Marcia Brady's
unnecessary and thankless journey to the front lines of Second Wave
feminism, we now choose between rejecting feminism and redefining
feminism to suit our own interests.

*[Sidebar]*
The Journal of Popular Culture, Vol. 38, No. 3, 2005
© 2005 Blackwell Publishing, 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA, and
PO Box 1354, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK


*[Footnote]*
NOTES
1. Jill and Faith Soloway's The Real Live Brady Bunch debuted in Chicago
in 1990.
2. Paramount Studio released The Brady Bunch Movie in 1995, and A Very
Brady Sequel was released in 1996.
3. A few noteworthy books include Barry Williams et al., Growing Up
Brady: I Was a Teenage Greg (Good Guy Entertainment, 2000); Elizabeth
Moran, Bradymania!: Everything You Always Wanted to Know-And a Few
Things You Probably Didn't (Adams Media Corporation, 1995); and Anthony
Rubino, Life Lessons from the Brady Bunch: A Very Brady Advice Book
(Penguin, 1995).
4. A quick Internet search will provide many links to sites devoted to
The Brady Bunch, but http://www.bradyworld.com is a very good starting
point.
5. Not only has the title character, Maude, been through multiple
divorces, but she also experiences abortion, menopause, and a career in
politics on the show.
6. All ratings addressed in this section refer to Nielsen Media Research
statistics.
7. While I do not mean to defend this analysis of Happy Days, I do not
argue against it as I do in the case of The Brady Bunch.
8. Stan Marsh used this line to describe "new age" music, hut it seems
equally fitting in reference to The Brady Bunch.
9. While I am not denying that eventually many of us would march on
behalf of various causes, including feminism, I am suggesting that,
generally speaking, we are decidedly less political than the generation
with which second Wave feminism is associated.
10. According to an interview with Sherwood Schwartz, creator of The
Brady Bunch, the show was inspired by an article in the Los Angeles
Times claiming that one third of the families in the United States
included children from an earlier marriage (E! True Hollywood Story).
His claim that Carol Brady was divorced, however, runs counter to the
widespread assumption that Carol's first husband was dead. It is quite
possible, of course, that Schwartz is claiming credit, after the fact,
for a more radical premise than what he actually had in mind when he
first introduced The Brady Bunch.
11. For information about single TV dads, particularly as widowers,
visit http://www.tvdads. com.
12. The similarity between Alice from The Brady Bunch and Aunt Bea from
The Andy Griffith Show is particularly striking.
13. Also consider the contrast between sweet Mary Ann and sexy Ginger
from Gilligan's Island or between smart Janet and sexy Chrissy from
Three's Company.
14. See, for example, http://www.danxine.org. Although Danzine closed
operations in June 2003, information and history about this nonprofit
organization and zine are still available online.
15. See, for example, http://www.girlmom.com.
16. For a comprehensive list of feminise e-zines, visit
http://www.grrrlzines.net.
17. Note that "Bitch" and "Bust" are names of two highly praiseworthy
Third Wave feminist magazines. Information about Bitch: Feminist
Response to Pop Culture is available at http:// www.bitchmagazine.com,
and information about Bust: Vor Women with Something to Get off Their
Chests is available at http://www.bust.com.
18. For background on Candida Royalle and Femme Productions, see
http://www.royalle.com.


*[Reference]*
Works Cited
Baumgardner, Jennifer, and Amy Richards. Manifesta: Young Women,
Feminism, and the Future. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2000.
Beck. "Loser." Mellow Gold. Geffen Records, 1994.
Candida Royalle's Stud Hunters: A Hard Man Is Good to Find. DVD. Femme
Productions, 2003.
Centers for Disease Control. Monthly Vital Statistics Report Supplement,
vol. 38, no. 2, June 6, 1989 (available online at: http://www.
cdc.gov/nchs/products/pubs/pubd/mvsr/supp/40-31/40-31.htm).
_____. Monthly Vital Statistics Report Supplement, vol. 4.3, no. 9,
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Dworkin, Andrea, and Catherine MacKinnon. Pornography and Civil Rights.
Minneapolis, MN: Organizing Against Pornography, 1988.
E! True Hollywood Story: The Brady Bunch. E! Television Network. 1999.
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Skevington and Deborah Baker. London: Sage, 1989. 173-93.
Hornblower, Margot. "Defining Gen X." Time 9 June 1997: 58-69.
Howe, Neil, and Bill Strauss. 13th Generation: Abort, Retry, Ignore,
Fail? New York: Vintage Books, 1993.
Kamen, Paula. Feminist Fatale. New York: Donald I. Fine, 1991.
MacKinnon, Catherine. Feminism Unmodified. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1987.
Misciagno, Patricia. Rethinking Feminist Identification: The Case for De
Facto Feminism. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1997.
Muscio, Inga. Cunt: A Declaration of Independence. Seattle: Seal, 1998.
Owen, Rob. Gen X TV: The Brady Bunch to Melrose Place. New York:
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Shugart, Helene. "Isn't It Ironic?: The Intersection of Third-Wave
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2001): 131-68.


*[Author Affiliation]*
Mimi Marinucci is an assistant professor with a joint appointment in
philosophy and women's studies at Eastern Washington University. Her
scholarly interests and research include the subjective and social
aspects of knowledge, particularly knowledge produced around issues of
gender and sexuality.