Buttgate: Edinburgh Fringe's #GreatButtout14

Feature by Kate Pasola | 14 Aug 2014

The second week of August is a tricky little time for anyone even vaguely involved in the Fringe. If you’re an usher you’ve probably plummeted from the highs of being knighted with a lanyard and allowed to sneak into the back of a Stewart Lee set, to the lows of weathered laminates and neck injuries from the strain of trying to see more than a lighting rig. Thespians suffer fevered brows and chilly egos, flyerers become primal after a fortnight spent in a state of faux-glee. Even the mutually beneficial arrangement between the bratwurst vendors and crêpe stalls has begun to run its course. Usually, the mid-Fringe itch is circumnavigated without much trauma through a cocktail of paracetamol, re-reads of an ego-soothing review from that time you went down a storm in 2011, and systematic substitution of human emotion with plastic cups of cider. Everyone just about manages to get over themselves and back to work (or play) in time for weekend #3 without much damage done.

But once in a while the headiness of August in Edinburgh can lead to all manner of feud and fury, and this year isn’t an exception. Just take a world-famous comedian like... say... Stephen K. Amos; pop him in a bar with a burlesque artist like Ivy Paige, and with their hearty doses of bravado and titillation respectively present (along with a couple of miscellaneous members of the media), it seems what organically follows is the circulation of a press release more sexist than a snapchat between Jeremy Clarkson and Robin Thicke.

The document in question was intended to inform the media about an event which consisted mostly of comparing the arses of Ivy Paige and the cast of Angry Young Women With Low Rise Jeans and High Class Issues. Whoever’s glutes received more retweets in a 24 hour period would be announced victor. To call the press release mortifying would be to understate on a gigantic scale. It read less like a clear message to the media, and more like a note passed around a preteen classroom. A papery promise made soggy with hormones on transit from fist to frustrated fist. Let’s take a look. It all begins with a hashtag, as only the best things in the 21st century can:

'#GreatButtout14'
To help you remember, think like a bake-off, just less jam and more misogyny.

'...Forget rear of the year, it’s all about rear of the Edinburgh Fringe!...'
Great start. So, think downsizing, basically? You have my attention, GreatButtOut14!

'...Broadway Baby and Comedian Stephen K. Amos have pinned International Showgirl, Ivy Paige against the women of Angry Young Women in Low Rise Jeans with High Class Issues in a competition…'
An incredibly dynamic and forward-thinking approach to the treatment of women in the media. Can’t remember the last time two women were pitted against each other in competition for approval of their aesthetics. Groundbreaking stuff.

'...The ladies will all have their bums photographed…'
Anyone else feeling uncomfortable with the use of 'bums' here? Bit pervy uncle?

'...(in as much or little clothing as desired, as close up or far away as desired)...'
Not even controlling their variables? Hardly a fair test.

'...then the photos will be posted on Twitter. Whoever gets the most re-tweets in a 24 hour period wins a steak dinner by the losers!'
Quite an inspired decision to award the woman treated most like a piece of meat with, well, a piece of meat.

'This is being organised by Dan Lentell of Fringe Review, and it is being promoted by Ewan Spence of the Podcast Corner. YOU ARE INVITED TO JOIN US to in what is going to be the most bootylicous press and photo call of the Fringe! [sic]'

Dropping names more fervently than Snoop drops hot things, it’s difficult to decipher exactly who was the sexist douchebrain behind #GreatButtOutt14. Who could possibly have been so instrumental in engineering the most opaque PR manoeuvre since the unvesting of Janet Jackson’s boob? It’s even harder to figure out when almost all those named in the document vehemently deny responsibility for the conception and promotion of the bet. When asked on Twitter about his involvement, Stephen K. Amos flatly excused himself from the whole affair. When presented with a photograph of himself and the rest of the #GreatButtOut14 gang signing the bet, he got pretty antsy and tweeted his frustration and confusion to the others in what felt like a contrived demonstration of disaffiliation. He also got quite pissed with our Comedy editor when she pointed out his explicit inclusion proven by two forms of the press release and even a photograph at the bet-signing. In a noble act of almost threatening courtesy, he offered to “come after” her to ensure she “had her facts straight,” and also to help her do her job – consequently doing a hilariously terrible job himself of proving he isn’t the sexist wally we’d all pinned him as. Tweets have tragically now been removed. 

Ivy Paige seemed pretty upset about the whole affair, trying in vain to patch things up on Twitter with a deluge of apologies and lipstick emojis, lamenting “It wasn’t even my idea!” Broadway Baby almost instantaneously rejected any involvement and expressed concern and anger to be associated with such a ideologically repulsive move (I’m paraphrasing here). Ewan Spence wasn’t keen to comment, aside from clarifying that his involvement was limited only to a mention on Podcast Corner with Angry Young Women. Jessica Moreno of Angry Young Women tweeted her enthusiasm to “have some provocative fun at the [undisclosed] slut-shamers' expense!” and all that is clear is that Dan Lentell is being credited as the cog that churned the whole event forward. Right now, it's all just a game of PR hot potato.

Due to the vagueness of the culprit and the gang-wide haste to disattach from the event, it's hard to work out exactly who's to blame. But that's unimportant. What's important is the fact this stunt – and the reaction to it – was an explicit demonstration of a seemingly universal misunderstanding of where empowerment ends and objectification begins. My point isn't a condemnation of nudity, performative sexual expression or having a grand old time with your gorgeous porcelain butt-cheeks. Instead, my point is that according to the story, a group of people – mostly dudes – in a bar made a bet on Ivy Paige and AYW's arses, and orchestrated a competition which perpetuates the mouldy old idea that the female body exists only for judgement and consumption by men. Letting women deal with their own bodies, have sex on their own terms, and enjoy their own sensational arses without interfering is contributing to their empowerment. Commodifying their bodies and removing their voices is not. Jessica Moreno was right to damn slut-shamers; her motives were right. But once the bodypart of a woman – especially a highly sexualised bodypart – is taken out of the control of its owner, pixellated, hashtagged, and submitted for approval, that woman is no longer in control of that ass. It wasn't Ivy Paige's idea to host a butt-contest, but somehow it was her body being compared, her 'empowerment' being touted. It matters not if those distributing the hashtags and photographs persuade us, hand on shoulder, that stunts like these contribute to a process of empowerment and appreciation. If a guy isn't participating in an activity himself, but is furiously advocating that women should for the sake of empowement, it's worth pondering whether something is a little skewiff, equality-wise. 

I turned up the the GreatButtOut14, and I'm happy to say I was the only one. Not a single person who signed the bet turned up, and not a single person has mentioned it since. What exactly is everyone so keen to distance themselves from? Is it simply too mortifying to be associated with a press release that made the conscious decision to use the adjective 'bootylicious'? Did everyone involved experience a synchronised epiphany in which their initial urges to pimp out the arses of women for the sake of publicity were replaced with an unexplained desire to quit being sexist tossers? Did someone realise this bet was a complete pollution of the commendable environment of respect and support for female talent at the Fringe, leading them to call the whole thing off for the sake of humanity? In my heart I hope it's all of the above, but in my head I know that's not true. It's all gone a bit quiet because those responsible know they've dropped a clanger – it's just they can't exactly decipher what that clanger was. I'm glad no arses were compared in the end, but it's only a matter of time before the next manifestation of faux-empowerment creeps around the corner.

So what will it take to stop men butting into decisions about bodies that should be made by women? A more pressing question, though, which I'm sure all readers have leapt to ponder upon, is whether or not Stephen K. Amos and the rest of the dudes would have agreed to participate in an arse competition of their very own? Would the tables turn if Stephen K. Amos, Lentell and Spence became the butt of the stunt? Wisecracks aside – forget #ButtOut14, think #ButtOutForeverWithYourSexistDickheaddery. How about it, guys? Original rules apply – 'as little or as much clothing as desired, and as close-up or as far away as desired'. But preferably the latter. As far away as possible – at least until you’ve remembered not to treat women like fleshy ass-pawns for the sake of publicity. And the prize? Yeah, better make that a rump steak.