Tester

ers and artists pour their energy
into shaping their bodies, so they
may profit off of the shapes they
create and survive off of those
profits. Many change their bodies
for cultural capital as well. While
we all should fight for the licensing
right to our bodies, for some this
is the bare means of their survival.
Male artists who capitalize off the
bodies of women and white photographers
who capitalize off the
skins of brown and black subjects
are hardly a novelty. Yet, except
in specific circumstances, these
bodies are seldom credited. Prince
ripped away the credit that many
on Instagram are finally receiving
for their bodies. When one posts
a picture of oneself online, one
is laying claim to the product of
all the labor it took to make and
present one's body. The models of
SuicideGirls put an extraordinary
amount of work into their bodies.
They work out, they get tattoos,
they spend time on makeup,
clothes and piercings. They strive
to be financially rewarded for this
labor, and that financial reward is
a societal affirmation of the credit
they deserve.
When visual artists make use
of models, they seldom credit the
work the model does to maintain
her body. I think they should
start. When a photographer travels
through America, to rural areas
or poor black neighborhoods, or
abroad, to seek out distinctive cultures
or lived experiences, I think
he should give partial credit to
every person he photographs and,
probably, some of his royalties.
After all, the body produced by
the agency of the model is partially
responsible for its own pictorial
iteration. Think how this would
radically shift the demographics
and economics of representation
in major art institutions. The muse
– a model used continuously over
time – is supposed to be a creation
of nature that captures the
artist’s heart and mind; she is as
much responsible for her power to
dazzle as a child is for the clothes
that their parents buy them. But in
today’s society we are never innocent
of our bodies. The natural is
fetishized, but only as framed by
a narrative fiction. “Natural beauty”
is a patriarchal fallacy that tells
us that being beautiful is essential
and, at the same time, that to
strive to be beautiful is shameful.
Plastic surgery, incredibly common
among a diverse section of the
world’s population, is still widely
condemned. The reasons given
for this – that it can be dangerous,
that it sometimes doesn’t make you
look better, that it is often obvious
to the beholder – ring hollow. The
real problem is that while we want
people to adhere to monetarily
profitable beauty standards that
uphold the superstructures of patri-
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