When the e-mail requesting publicity around this week’s YOU/ Huisgenoot cover first dropped into view, my initial reaction was one of “wow, even without hair, Lee-Ann Liebenberg is gorgeous”.
A reaction which, in and of itself, inadvertently spoke to the efficacy of the campaign the “bald” model was meant to be promoting: that Lee-Ann’s new “look” could in any way be related to a potentially terminal disease didn’t remotely enter my mind, much less cross it, until I vaguely noticed the prominent lettering emblazoned above the teaser for the headline story. So much for “cancer awareness”.
Nevertheless, the vitriol being spewed around this subject is equally lacking in good taste, flavoured with a generous helping of capricious logic. No, none of the six female celebrities (Shashi Naidoo, Poppy Ntshongwana, Zakeeya Patel, Elma Postma and LeeAnne Dlamini comprising the remaining five) who partook in the project actually shaved their heads.
Granted, perhaps deeming them “brave” for their willingness to appear in public without their trademark locks is overstating the matter, particularly when considered within the context of cancer patients forced to endure the horrors of chemotherapy.
But then again, a similar initiative which garnered global support earlier this year also featured a plethora of famous women (the plebs followed suit soon thereafter) who took to posting pictures of themselves supposedly sans make-up, when a closer look revealed subtle smudgings of foundation, distinctive lashings of massacre and ol’ pink glossy on their collagen-plumped lips.
Yet, far from being criticised for belittling breast cancer, we “oohed” and “aahed” at their so-called natural beauty – and helped raise £8 million (R142m) for cancer research in the UK alone as a result.
What’s more, if we really want to get down to brass tacks, the fact is the very fabric of our modern society is built on illusion: Every day, we are bombarded with images of impossibly flawless people who populate our televisions, our print media, our online and social networks – all of whom have invariably had a (large) helping hand from professional make-up artists, talented photographers, skilled lighting technicians and an ingenious chap we all know as Mr PhotoShop.
But do we revile these actors, musicians and models for their false perfection and declare them to be making a mockery of our freckled-face/ cellulite-bruised thighs/ podgy stomach/ crooked teeth, for being too tall/ short, too thin/ fat, too big-breasted/ flat-chested? No. We desperately seek to emulate them.
To suggest, as a number of commentators do, that only those who have been directly affected with or in some way touched by the disease (for the record, I have) are in any position to contribute to this debate, or to promote the cancer cause, is equally perplexing.
It’s akin to advocating that only those who actually suffered from ALS were worthy of partaking in the ice-bucket challenge (and we know how all and sundry were only too willing to jump on to that bandwagon, even if only to show off their sculpted physiques under the guise of a good cause) or, at a more simplistic level, that only a mechanic is qualified to drive a car.
An awareness campaign is, by its very definition, aimed at drawing attention to a particular issue. Using celebrities to drive these campaigns is certainly nothing new, precisely because of their wide-reaching public profile.
And while you may not approve of the method, that it’s already become watercooler fodder across the country denotes that YOU has succeeded in its objective.
LARA DE MATOS
TONIGHT EDITOR
@Lara_de_Matos