It's ironic that the assignment due tonight in my womens studies class has to do with images of women in the media, on the same day as the Oscars. In the entire history of the little statue only three women have been nominated for the film director category. One of these is Kathryn Bigelow, nominated for the Hurt Locker. No woman has ever won the category. Needless to say, I will actually be watching tonight.

Two actresses come to mind on the topic of images of women in the media, Keira Knightley and Gaboury Sidibe. One of the articles assigned for the class discusses the media's portrayal of the ideal of thinness as a way to lessen the impact of any possible power the woman may have. I call it the Calista Flockhart syndrome. Keira Knightley is the embodiment of this lesson. As a pirate, she fights alongside the man she loves and runs away from her planned married future for adventure on the high seas. As Guinevere in the version of King Arthur starring her and Clive Owens, she wields a bow and arrow and warpaint. At the end of the movie, when he is crowned King, she stands next to him with clasped hands raised, insinuating that she is his equal and co ruler. However, the physical space that she occupies in this frame, next to the brawny Mr. Owens, is so small that it negates a good portion of her power. Her thinness, to the point of almost not existing, makes her less threatening, no matter how tough she may act.

Gabourey Sidibe, on the other hand, is the opposite of Keira Knightley, as she is a large African-American woman. I have not seen Precious, her first role, but my understanding is that she overcomes very difficult circumstances and is determined to make something of herself, which is very powerful. I recently saw Ms. Sidibe on a late night talk show, and unfortunately was taken aback by her size. My first thought was: I hope she's healthy. This shows me that I still have to work on resisting the thinness ideal pushed on us by television, movies and fashion magazines. Ms. Sidibe, however, seemed confident and comfortable with herself. When asked about her dress for the awards show, she stated that she was going to look like a princess.

I've never understood the need for women to consider themselves princesses, to have no responsibility and no power, to be dependent on her father the king, and to be put under a spell by her stepmother to do nothing but wait for some prince, or nowadays to divorce the prince and fill your days with charitable work. The princess wish has to do with yet more images of women, this time in Disney's version of fairytales. Personally, I would rather look like a goddess or the supreme ruler of the entire universe. But if Ms. Sidibe wants to look like a princess, she has as much right to look like one as anyone. More power to her.