India Ross made Facebook’s trending topics last Friday when she decided to recreate one of Beyoncé’s Met Gala gowns for Prom. Though this post was an innocent celebration of role model inspired dresses, it did generate some targeted comments from multiple users. “The dress is without class mainly because it damn near shows everything . . . I remember years ago, the saying was the less you show the more appealing you are!!” one user’s commentary read. Another more positive commenter argues back with this same vocabulary, “Women are classy whether they are wearing a burka or a two-piece. Does it make you feel better to put another woman down?”
I’m going to set aside the hugely problematic slut-shaming occurring in this news story to focus on the grimy word that forced me to sit down and write this . . . class. The term has been long used to inspire and reward cooperative women (and mainly women) who participate in the imposed standards of the upper class while condemning unwilling participants in social division for not upholding these arbitrary and sometimes unattainable principles.
The full definition given by Merriam-Websters dictionary is this:
“having or showing class as:
a: elegant, stylish <a classy clientele>
b: having or reflecting high standards of personal behavior <a classy guy> <a classy gesture>
c: admirably skillful and graceful <a classy outfielder>”
Unsurprisingly the word is, well, classist!
The definition itself applauds the emulation of the upper class through style, behavior and values. It remains synonymous for graceful, virtuous and polite which suggests that classes which place lower on the rung will not hold these attributes as defining marks. A pretty wild assumption considering the findings of Paul Piff, a psychologist who published a paper entitled, “Higher Social Class Predicts Increased Unethical Behavior,” in the "Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences." "The rich are way more likely to prioritize their own self-interests above the interests of other people,” Piff tells New York Magazine, “It makes them more likely to exhibit characteristics that we would stereotypically associate with, say, assholes.” Truthfully, being three-times more likely to cheat is hardly living up to the standards set by the term "classy."
Despite the discoveries of the upper class possibly lacking this sacred word, we are still socially conditioned to accept their domain as our inspiration to do better . . . to be better (read: to be like them). “Classy” isn’t necessarily reserved for those able to scrap enough dollar bills together to purchase out of their price range but the formula is still set in place to divide the wealthy from the poor.
“Classy” is appropriately fitted and ironed clothing. It never shows cleavage and is always cut at an appropriate length. “Classy” is coordinated pieces, brushed smooth hair, a white smile, demure makeup and an unoffending smell. It doesn’t curse, say yes on the first date or have tattoos and piercings. “Classy” does not consider those that are what Vivyan C. Adair calls, "branded with infamy."
In her article, "Branded with Infamy: Inscriptions of Poverty and Class in the United States," Adair addresses the public markings of poverty, “Indeed poor children are often marked with bodily signs that cannot be forgotten or erased. Their bodies are physically inscribed as “other” and then read as pathological, dangerous, and undeserving.”
While the elevation to class is technically open to everyone willing to comply with its unspoken standards, “classy” still remains out of reach for impoverished peoples because of their inability to avoid the markings of poverty.
In her own words, Adair recounts her experiences in poverty. She says, “In spite of my mother’s heroic efforts, at an early age my brothers and sisters and I were stooped, bore scars that never healed properly, and limped with feet mangled by ill-fitting, used Salvation Army shoes . . . we were read as unworthy, laughable, and often dangerous. Our schoolmates laughed at our ‘ugly shoes,’ our crooked and ill-serviced teeth, and the way we ‘stank’, as teachers excoriated us for our inability to concentrate in school, our ‘refusal’ to come to class with proper school supplies and our unethical behavior when we tried to take more than our allocated share of ‘free lunch'."
Adair illustrates the narratives that follow the physical markings of poverty through the stereotype of the “Welfare Queen” who is imagined as young, never married and black. Through her essay, Adair easily identifies the significant ways we demean the poor (especially WOC and children) by attaching a virtue to their physical description . . . which is similarly how we structure the idea of "classy."
An argument can be made that class is shown through virtuous attributes which cannot be bought by wealth but the vocab is still rooted in the idea that goodness and virtue are inherently linked with a higher social standing. When you tell a young woman that her being kind to a peer is "classy," it is reinforcing the notion that kindness is a defining characteristic of the upper class. This conditions the child to view not only physicality but personal values in relation to wealth. This recipe creates a hostile concoction that demands the viewer to obey its instruction while condemning those that defy it, linking their inability to display class with laziness, disorder, a lack of discipline and any other innumerable negative adjectives attached to the lower class.
I’ve yet to deeply explore the attachment “classy” has to both race and gender but the link is essentially apparent. This brief analysis was brought upon by my own experiences in hearing the word “classy” to regulate the dress, speech and behavior of mainly women and though I cannot speak on behalf of WOC, there seems to be a clear attachment to race as well (as seen in Adair’s view of the “Welfare Queen”).
Was this chastising word used against India Ross because she was a young black woman? All signs do point in that direction. Nevertheless, the word persists as a reminder of the imposed social order.
Personally, I do not want to continue contributing to the foundational idea that pearls and concealed cleavage are somehow intrinsically linked with ethical behavior and values. The question here is, do you?
