The ideal Southern woman is described as an innocent and delicate beauty, a perfect debutante — before becoming a homemaker and wife. She should be obedient, polite and Christian — pretty as a peach. The “Southern Belle” stereotype has permeated throughout history, pressuring women to conform to societal standards to become desirable. It strips women of their agency and intelligence by making powerlessness a goal. As a result, the states below the Mason-Dixon line hardly seem like a cradle of feminism.
Today, as women in the Deep South are denied access to reproductive healthcare and battle a larger gender pay gap than the rest of the United States, centuries-old sexism hasn’t yet been buried. Despite this, art serves as proof that these struggles aren’t the only factors that define their experience as women. From the work of Dolly Parton, to books and movies such as “The Color Purple” and “Steel Magnolias,” Southern women have forged a new identity. Southern feminism highlights the multidimensional experiences of women in the American South by showing the good, the bad and the ugly of womanhood, while simultaneously emphasizing and embracing feminine strength. Southern women are redefining themselves on their own terms, reclaiming the agency previously denied to them.
I spent my childhood school breaks driving 15 hours south to Alabama, stopping at Cracker Barrels along the way. My exposure to Southern culture was seasonal, and, as a result, I received only bits and pieces of it. I ate warm, buttery biscuits, listened to the country music on the radio, minded my manners and drank iced tea under the boiling sun. As an outsider, I skimmed the surface of Southern culture, delving a little deeper each time I returned. It took over a decade and multiple stops in Nashville along the way for me to become properly introduced to Dolly Parton. The first thing I noticed about her was her signature look — heavy makeup and huge hair — which initially confused me. Despite being well into her 70s, Parton dresses to the nines in sequins, glitter, short hemlines and crop tops, looking nothing like my old-fashioned, sweater-clad grandma. Not only does she defy expectations of what a woman her age should look like, but she continues to be commercially successful in her musical and business endeavors as well.
Throughout her life, Parton has proudly embraced her identity, encouraging other women to do the same. Born in a one-room cabin in rural Tennessee, Parton was heavily influenced by Appalachian music and storytelling. She began her career in country music immediately after graduating high school, quickly finding success in Nashville.
From the beginning, in her 1966 single, “Dumb Blonde,” she’s quick to warn her audience that she “ain’t nobody’s fool.” In her 1968 song “Just Because I’m a Woman,” Parton further establishes herself as a feminist by calling out sexual double standards women face. At the same time, she embraces Southern culture through her music and wardrobe, demonstrating that you can don cowboy boots and skirts while still being successful and independent. Parton may cheekily play into the male gaze with her short dresses, but she makes it clear this is because she wants to, not because she has to. Parton never claims that being a woman is easy, but she demonstrates that there is strength to be found in femininity.
Parton’s flamboyant and bold style has empowered and influenced gender expression beyond cisgender heterosexual women. She evolved into an icon and source of inspiration within the drag community, inspiring Dolly Parton Drag Shows. Parton famously and frequently declares, “If I hadn’t been a girl, I’d have been a drag queen.” Her influence has inspired a larger community, acknowledging that femininity is for everyone, not just girls in skirts and cowboy boots.
After becoming a Parton fan, I stumbled across the films “Steel Magnolias” and “Fried Green Tomatoes.” True to women’s experiences, the films are both joyous and gut-wrenching, following female characters throughout the highs and lows of life. Like Parton, the characters in these films draw from Southern tradition. They have varying degrees of comfort in being feminine, but as is key to Southern feminism, they draw strength from female friendships. When struck with hardship, they rely on the women around them to get through it. In an early scene of “Steel Magnolias,” Shelby (Julia Roberts, “Mystic Pizza”), a diabetic, suffers a hypoglycemic episode and the women in her life rush to help her recover. This early moment is reflected continuously throughout the movie as the women support each other through loss and heartbreak. As a result, the film highlights the importance of female friendships. They’re not just support systems, but keys to survival as a woman in the South.
Notably, men are rarely allies in these movies. They can be bumbling, stubborn, absent, cruel or drunk, and are very rarely kind, supportive or helpful. As a result, the women are left to their own devices. Center-stage in both films, they’re rarely in complete control of their lives but always in control of how they react. They can’t rely on the men around them to understand their experiences. These stories reflect the self-reliance of women in the American South. Over generations of misogyny, they’ve learned to depend heavily on the other women around them to both overcome adversity and find joy. Films like “Steel Magnolias” and “Fried Green Tomatoes” reflect the belief that there’s strength to be found not just in yourself, but also in the women around you.
At the same time, Southern feminism is more complex than glitter, tassels and inner strength. White feminism is the dominant narrative in Southern stories, owing to a deep tradition of racism older than the United States. During my trips to Alabama, the stories I read featured the tales and triumphs of white women. These were frequently the feel-good stories I craved, masking a deeper, untold history of the rest of the women in the South.
Alice Walker’s “The Color Purple” presents a different side of the female experience in the South, telling the story of two poor Black sisters growing up in Georgia in the early 20th century. Subject to male abuse and the consequences of racialized poverty, Celie and Nettie have a very different experience from the women in “Steel Magnolias.” The idea of “girls supporting girls” is often abandoned. Celie, jealous of another woman’s confidence and freedom in her marriage, tells the woman’s husband to beat her. The women lash out and blame each other because they can’t take their frustrations out on anyone else. Nonetheless, joy and sisterhood are still a central part of their experiences. Celie later apologizes when confronted, and the women reconcile, continuing to depend on each other through unhappy marriages and societal injustices.
Thus, the novel doesn’t shy away from showing the horrific parts of their lives, but it also proves their strength allowing them to explore their identities as Black women. As a result, “The Color Purple” portrays a different, but still real, experience of womanhood from films like “Steel Magnolias.” Like Dolly Parton, it is a testament to the strength that lies in femininity, but by telling the truth of the tragedy and joy that comes from being both Black and female in the South.
Music, films and literature are all evidence of a uniquely Southern feminist culture that is often ignored by the rest of the United States. While we may joke about the supposed backwardness of the South, countless women are working to ensure that the Southern Belle and her submissiveness become a thing of the past. They must work against the men and compliant women around them, all to become ignored and underappreciated by mainstream culture. After years of visiting the South, I’ve begun to see women have done much more than we as a society give them credit for. Together, women have picked up the shovel and begun to dig a grave for the illusive Southern Belle. Despite sexism, homophobia, racism and all the other barriers they may face, women will continue to live in the South. Therefore, like anywhere else, they will find ways to thrive.
Daily Arts Writer Isabelle Perraut can be reached at iperraut@umich.edu.
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