by Lexy London

Over the past year, or so, I've read posts on various feminist blogs, like Feministing, Feminste, and Broadsheet, bemoaning the skankification of the average American woman, and pointing to the Pussycat Dolls as the perfect embodiment of the trend. Up until last week, I simply thought the feminist bloggers were taking the pop sextet too seriously. Sure, they started off as a burlesque group, and now routinely sing songs that ask questions like, "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?" or implore a would-be lover to, "Lossen up my buttons," but that sort of subject matter is now de rigeur in pop music.

I didn't perceive any difference between them or the likes of Shakira, Beyonce, or any other poptartlet that shakes her stuff and hikes up her skirt for the enjoyment of the masses. They were just another manufactured pop group that strutted around in lingerie and lip-synched superficial lyrics - the perfect distillation of contemporary pop music, quasi-porn played out over danceable beats. Then, watched "Pussycat Dolls Presents: The Search for the Next Doll" via YouTube, and was absolutely horrified.

After reading a column in Salon that went to great effort to lambaste the Pussycat Dolls and the show, while repeatedly referring to the members and contestants as "whoring sea donkeys," my interest was piqued. I brought up the video snippets and watched one full episode of "The Search for the Next Doll," which is essentially an "America's Next Top Model" for pop music. I was appalled.

I wasn't shocked by cleavage, gyrating hips, boy shorts, hair tossing, or pouty-lipped camera preening. I'm not Amish and I don't live in a cave; I'm fully desensitized to silicone breasts and butt cheeks hanging out of the back of hot pants by now. What horrified me was seeing a group of young women being actively brainwashed into further buying into a pop culture version of feminine "empowerment" which can basically be defined as "smile while we exploit you." Watching Robin Antin (the creator of the Pussycat dolls) and their vocal and dancing coaches, size all the young women up in an unwholesomely predatory and unsympathetic manner made me queasy.

The most unsettling portion of the episode I watched was when Robin took all the contestants out to dinner, let them relax and savor their food a bit and then had the restaurant flip a switch and reveal two lingerie-clad women writhing in glass boxes, placed strategically behind the bar. Robin bared her teeth into an approximation of a smile while she gestured towards the dancers and told the girls that they were next. They were all commanded to change into underwear and take turns gyrating in glass boxes for the joy of the restaurant patrons and to prove how "confident" they were.

If dancing around in lingerie is a surefire way to showcase confidence, why haven't John McCain, Hilary Clinton, or Barrack Obama been asked to do so? What dancing around in glass box has to do with confidence remains a mystery to me. I've danced on top of a bar before. I didn't consider my actions to be an expression of my "confidence" or "empowerment" nor did I try to pass off my bar-top hip-shaking as a tangible proof of my feminist inclinations. I was simply having fun with friends and running on the fuel that free alcohol provides. There's nothing wrong with dancing in lingerie in a glass box-but there are serious problems with pressuring unwilling girls to do, and telling them that such a display is an expression of confidence is twisted and warped.

After seeing that episode and reading more about the Pussycat Dolls, I had a greater understanding of the anger that many feminist bloggers have displayed towards the group: they were asking for it. By constantly trying to portray themselves as feminist icons who were preaching a message of "empowerment" and "third-wave feminism" the Pussycat dolls and their handlers were virtually begging for feminists to fire their arms and take them down a couple of pegs. I completely understand feeling anger at having this trite pop group pass themselves off as the new face of feminism when their message has nothing to do with empowerment and everything to do with sexuality - not that the two are mutually exclusive, but it's simply necessary to acknowledge that not every sexual act is a leap forward for womankind.

For the Pussycat Dolls, sex seems to be their singular preoccupation. They're always wearing hot pants, lingerie, or mini-skirts, and constantly singing about how much they've managed to turn various men on. They're one-dimensional sex kittens, afraid to step out of the socially constructed box that defines what is sexy. I don't expect much, from pop groups, but if they want to refer to themselves using adjectives like "empowering" and "feminist" they're going to have to up the ante and do more than gyrate and ask, "Don't cha wish ya girlfriend was hot like me?" They'll have to actually say something of substance - in addition to some rump shaking.

The group is very clearly not expressing empowerment, because they're not powerful. They're obviously not in control of their careers, or the way in which they're marketed. However, referring to the group and the contestants on the show as "whoring sea donkeys" goes too far. Its fine to criticize the group and their message, but throwing out misogynistic terms, and negatively judging them for being sexually expressive is merely falling into a patriarchal trap. There are plenty of ways to legitimately criticize the group without resorting to adolescent name calling and misogynistic slut-shaming.

The Pussycat Dolls produce fun, inane, danceable music, which is fine; however, when they try to portray their songs as part and parcel of a feminist message, we have a huge problem. Feminism's main concern is not female sexual expression. Feminism is concerned with the totality of women's lives, and a feminist message effectively communicates that, with or without hot pants.