A semi-naked woman in a Carnival costume. A veiled woman with only her eyes showing in a niqab. Two stereotypes of two vastly different regions — Latin America and the Middle East.
On the surface, these two images are diametrically opposed. What could the two have in common, right? What a woman wears — or what she doesn't wear, in Brazil's case — is often interpreted as a sign of her emancipation. The veil, for many, is a symbol of female oppression; the right to wear a bikini, one of liberation.
Underneath the differences, the Middle East and Latin America's most famously immodest country both impose their own burdens on women in the way they are treated and perceived.
Brazil has a female president, and women are well-represented in the work force. This isn't Saudi Arabia, where women cannot drive, or Afghanistan under the Taliban, where women could not study.
And yet it is one of the most dangerous countries to be female in. Statistics show that about every two hours a woman is murdered in Brazil, a country with the seventh highest rate of violence against women in the world.
This juxtaposition of sex and violence isn't new, according to Rosana Schwartz, a historian and sociologist at Mackenzie Presbyterian University in Sao Paulo. Brazil imported more slaves than any other country in the Americas, and slavery was only abolished in 1888.
"The female slaves were used as sexual objects to initiate the master's son's sexuality or to satisfy him. And the result has been that until today, Brazilian women are seen in a sexist way, in a more sexualized way, because she was used as a sexual object for so long," Schwartz says.
In many parts of the Middle East, however, women are mostly hidden away at home and, in the most traditional countries, are not allowed to have unsupervised contact with men outside their families.
Brazilian women don't face the same kinds of restrictions.
In Brazil, women are second only to the U.S. in the amount of plastic surgeries they have and in the number of beauty products they consume.
In a recent article talking about vaginal reconstruction — yes, Brazil is a world leader in that cosmetic surgery, too — psychoanalyst Regina Navarro noted that there is a huge amount of pressure in Brazil to conform to an ideal. "Women want to adapt to what they think men want," she told Brazil's Glamour magazine.
I recently spent some time at a leading international modeling agency in Sao Paulo. The main headhunter told me confidently that all young boys in Brazil wanted to be soccer stars, and all young women aspired to be models.
You can go to schools here and quickly learn that little girls are not encouraged to become the next Ronaldo. While Brazil is a global force in men's soccer, women's soccer in Brazil is almost nonexistent. But girls as young as 6 or 7 know which models are on the cover of magazines.
The 2022 World Cup will be played in Qatar, a country that is not known for its sex appeal. Women's activists often target the Middle East for its policies toward women. But as living in Brazil has taught me, for women, even having all the freedom in the world can be its own cage.
On the surface, these two images are diametrically opposed. What could the two have in common, right? What a woman wears — or what she doesn't wear, in Brazil's case — is often interpreted as a sign of her emancipation. The veil, for many, is a symbol of female oppression; the right to wear a bikini, one of liberation.
Underneath the differences, the Middle East and Latin America's most famously immodest country both impose their own burdens on women in the way they are treated and perceived.
Brazil has a female president, and women are well-represented in the work force. This isn't Saudi Arabia, where women cannot drive, or Afghanistan under the Taliban, where women could not study.
And yet it is one of the most dangerous countries to be female in. Statistics show that about every two hours a woman is murdered in Brazil, a country with the seventh highest rate of violence against women in the world.
This juxtaposition of sex and violence isn't new, according to Rosana Schwartz, a historian and sociologist at Mackenzie Presbyterian University in Sao Paulo. Brazil imported more slaves than any other country in the Americas, and slavery was only abolished in 1888.
"The female slaves were used as sexual objects to initiate the master's son's sexuality or to satisfy him. And the result has been that until today, Brazilian women are seen in a sexist way, in a more sexualized way, because she was used as a sexual object for so long," Schwartz says.
In many parts of the Middle East, however, women are mostly hidden away at home and, in the most traditional countries, are not allowed to have unsupervised contact with men outside their families.
Brazilian women don't face the same kinds of restrictions.
In Brazil, women are second only to the U.S. in the amount of plastic surgeries they have and in the number of beauty products they consume.
In a recent article talking about vaginal reconstruction — yes, Brazil is a world leader in that cosmetic surgery, too — psychoanalyst Regina Navarro noted that there is a huge amount of pressure in Brazil to conform to an ideal. "Women want to adapt to what they think men want," she told Brazil's Glamour magazine.
I recently spent some time at a leading international modeling agency in Sao Paulo. The main headhunter told me confidently that all young boys in Brazil wanted to be soccer stars, and all young women aspired to be models.
You can go to schools here and quickly learn that little girls are not encouraged to become the next Ronaldo. While Brazil is a global force in men's soccer, women's soccer in Brazil is almost nonexistent. But girls as young as 6 or 7 know which models are on the cover of magazines.
The 2022 World Cup will be played in Qatar, a country that is not known for its sex appeal. Women's activists often target the Middle East for its policies toward women. But as living in Brazil has taught me, for women, even having all the freedom in the world can be its own cage.
Photo Credit: Marco Di Fabio and Nelson Almeida/Getty Images