Phone Sex Slut Blog: Always a Mary Ann, Never A Ginger

« A Porn Story | Main | Rum Tum Tugger »

June 17, 2005

Always a Mary Ann, Never A Ginger

Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but she did it backwards and in high heels. ~ Faith Whittlesey

Sometimes all it takes is a photo or ad to get me thinking. Recently I spotted this photo ad for the horrid reality show The Real Gilligan's Island:

And, you know, it got me thinking.

I believe most little girls of my generation (and previous generations who knew what it meant) grew up wanting to be Ginger.

The sparkly dress – the Marilyn ‘tude, the fawning attention from the menfolk. These things made it more appealing to dress up and play “the movie star” instead of that other character who was referred to as “and the rest” in the original theme song.

Ginger was glamorous, slinky and pouty and treated like a prize. Mary Ann, on the other hand was pigtails and Pollyanna enthusiasm, and treated like just one of the guys. I don’t know what it was in my pre-pubescent mind that identified the advantages of being a Ginger and aspire during playtime to be her. What overpowering behavior signals, body language, or subtext could there possibly have been in a show that saccharine? Maybe it was enough that the producers obviously felt Ginger was the superior woman in a “what men want and women want to be” way. In fact, I can’t say that I remember a single plotline from a Gilligan’s Island episode except for the one where Mary Ann accidentally knocks herself on the head and wakes up thinking she’s Ginger so everyone puts on a sad charade of letting the poor little wanna-be parade about until it’s revealed she’s just plain old Mary Ann after all.

As I got older, it was clear I was more Mary Ann than Ginger. Sure I loved to play dress up in slinky dresses by myself, but I was mostly pigtails and Pollyanna enthusiasm. And, once I spent time with peers, I was far more tomboy and one of the guys than I was “don’t get my hair wet” prima donna. I retained my desire to dress up and wear frilly, pretty things in the right circumstance, but even in pretty dresses and stockings I wasn’t able to effectively masquerade as a bona-fide glamour girl. I was always just a Mary Ann in a pretty dress and I suppose I developed my personal balance with that.

I never made the connection regarding my comfortable (if gradual) acceptance of my inner Mary Ann until I was older and some beer commercial featured a group of guys around a pool table playing X or Y. The ad was likely part of the “tastes great / less filling” campaign, but I don’t remember. What I do recall is one of the guys tosses out “Ginger or Mary Ann” and after a pause they answer in unison “Mary Ann.”

And I thought: "Huh?"

A beer commercial, marketing to other guys was clearly inferring that a majority of men preferred Mary Ann. This bewildered me and I set about asking (okay, pestering) my male friends for explanations.

It turned out that their impression of Ginger was a high maintenance airhead who thought of herself as unattainable. Mary Ann was more girl next door cosy; the type my guy friends now refer to as “an MILF in training.”

Obviously, both Tina Louise and Dawn Wells were/are beautiful women. I don’t kid myself that even though Mary Ann was portrayed as “plain” that Dawn was anything but a plain young woman. Still, it’s fascinating to me that the transition took place socially as well as personally. Did I evolve as part of a personal journey or has American society evolved in general? It’s hard to tell sometimes. But I think it’s both.

Sure there are the Paris Hiltons who still get attention just because they’re "beautiful" (or, perceived as beautiful -- I don’t get people that think she’s attractive, but then I don't get the Brad Pitt thing, either). But there are women who can embrace inner sexuality and be revered for other traits as well. Let's face it, being the awkward geek girl is offically cooler than being the perfect doll. It all depends on the company you keep.

Yes, there is still overwhelming aesthetic prejudice in society and the arts, but we’re human animals and I don’t know that we’ll ever get over that. I also don’t know that we should. Maybe that’s part of the evolutionary recipe that produces an Elenore Roosevelt every now and then. Maybe it’s the social hindrances that come with not being traditionally attractive that allow for occasional sparks of extraordinary humanity to move to the forefront.

Some of us will never be pin-up girls no matter how many pairs of sexy panties and high heeled shoes we own. And if that is the greatest tragedy of our lives, then they are charmed lives, indeed.

There will always be Gingers and Mary Anns for as long as some girls feel pretty and others don’t. But for the first time in my life, when I think of which one I am and which one I want to be, I realize it doesn’t have to be a war or a choice or a disappointment. I want to be a little bit of both and mostly neither. My inner pie-fight between the island gals is all cleaned up and put to rest.

Which doesn’t mean I don’t want to watch THIS COMMERICAL as often as possible (warning, ads prelude video which starts instantly). Just because my inner catfight is over doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching other gals work out their issues.

*sigh* That’s another mark against my getting that sisterhood membership, isn’t it?

Phone Sex Slut Hugs and Kisses