Absolute Manhood, Degree-Zero Manhood:
Analysis on Portrayals of Men in Calvin Klein Underwear Campaigns
By Haoran Xia
May 28, 2024
Analysis on Portrayals of Men in Calvin Klein Underwear Campaigns
By Haoran Xia
May 28, 2024
The reason is that once it has lost the natural brightness of youth, the manly face of the warrior must need to be a false face; it must be manufactured as a matter of policy. The army, I found, made this quite clear.
— Yukio Mishima, Sun and Steel
It was the year of 1992, the American singer and actor Mark Wahlberg became the new face of Calvin Klein (CK). The advertising campaign (Figure 1) was simple, straightforward, clean, and “sexy”: Wahlberg was photographed in a studio, standing upright and posing in a rather macho manner—grabbing his penis with his right hand and showcasing his muscular physique. He wore nothing but white CK boxer shorts and a black CK cap. Wahlberg’s facial expression was somewhat boyish: his upper lip turned up slightly, and there was a hint of disdain in his eyes. It was as if he did not particularly care about the spectators or to whom he was posing; in that specific moment, he acted as if he embodied masculinity and was portrayed as the representation of man.
Thirty-one years later, it was the year of 2023, American actor Brandon Flynn became one of the many successors of Wahlberg as the new face of CK. However, this time, it was for the queer pride campaign. In the campaign (Figure 2), Flynn poses in a similar manner to Wahlberg, but with notable differences: 1. Flynn is wearing black CK briefs from the 2023 pride collection and a black CK tank top; 2. Flynn’s facial expression conveys a sense of joy and happiness—with his eyes closed and his mouth open in a big smile. His facial expression somewhat resonates with the theme of this campaign and this specific collection, which celebrates love in a joyful, proud way.
Over three decades, Wahlberg and Flynn have used the same pose, campaigning, modeling, and representing the ideal image of a CK man in CK underwear. However, what they represent is not merely the image of a CK man but essentially the ideal image of a man and of manhood—that supposed-to-be figure of a man, the man who seems to have it all, the perfect man in contemporary society. As illustrated in the Wahlberg photograph, the ideal image of manhood announces itself explicitly: muscular, disdainful, relentless, and white.
Slightly different from the Wahlberg photograph, the image of manhood illustrated in the Flynn photograph seems more accessible, requiring less efforts to achieve. What catches our eyes in this photograph is essentially Flynn's posture of grabbing his own penis, which raises a crucial question: if the so-called manhood, compared to the Wahlberg version, doesn’t require the muscular physique or the relentlessness inherent in primate culture, then why does the gay actor still have to grab his own genitals as if this specific posture could enhance his manhood and therefore is what makes him a man? More crucially, on what basis is ‘manhood’ constructed, and how does this idea of ‘manhood’ affect contemporary men (across race, class, sexuality, and ethnicity) who grow up seeing Wahlberg and Flynn as the representation of man?
Drawing on these two photographic campaigns, this essay argues that manhood, in the contemporary era, is an idea, an image, a biocode, and a truth constructed based on the truth-making procedures of global media, the bio/technopolitical system in which sex is administered and regularized, and the circulative system of the (re)productions of capital. Therefore, manhood is not something men are born with; rather, it is something simulated, disseminated, copied (without origins), and received/perceived through signs of manhood in contemporary society. Following a visual analysis, this essay will examine both photographic campaigns through a semiotic and deconstruction approach.
Signs, Codes, and Texts of Manhood
The signs in the Wahlberg photograph are clear and profoundly contributive to the construction of the idea of ‘manhood’: Wahlberg’s muscular body, his act of grabbing his penis, his disdainful expression, his white skin, and the white boxer shorts. These signs do not merely guide or instruct objects in certain procedures; rather, they serve as factors contributing to the signification of visual/textual elements and transforming them into a cultural event that signifies something else, something more complex, and something beyond the given context (for example, the given context in the Wahlberg photograph is him modeling and campaigning for CK). This is partly because, according to Barthes, contemporary cultural phenomenon is constructed in a system in which culture itself is intertwined with various layers of codes, languages, and signs, thus becoming a myth (Barthes, Mythologies, 113); it is also because once the complexity of the structure of cultural phenomena is recognized, it validates that semiosis is not merely a singular matter but a process and a movement that must be perceived as an event. In this event, visual/textual signs must be located in concrete situations for translations to reveal their hidden qualities (Bal and Bryson, 194).
Thus, the myth in the Wahlberg photograph is, rather, what we—the spectators—see at first: his body. Muscular, hypermasculine, and having control over his own body (Vares and Braun 319), Wahlberg’s physique offers an optical example of the ideal manhood, which signifies a prewritten narrative in contemporary Western heterosexual society: to be a man, you need to look/be like this. Therefore, his body becomes a message, a collection of information inherent in the cultural semiosis in which his body is the ultimate signifier, and manhood is the signified.
Furthermore, this myth is reinforced when Wahlberg grabs his genitals and poses for the photographer (or perhaps it is the photographer who instructed Wahlberg to pose in this manner for him), as if he is validating his own masculinity by holding onto the one thing that makes a man man. This gesture, however, might arguably be the core of the semiosis of this photograph, as it ultimately conveys the message that the photograph/myth aims to communicate to the public: manhood is essentially about the power to grab your own genitals. Thus, what we see is not merely a muscular body trained and maintained for Hollywood, nor a young man posing coolly for the photographer, but a myth programmed into visual signs that aims to construct and disseminate the idea of manhood for men, gay men, and/or women who want to transition to be a man.
However, signs themselves cannot facilitate the process of semiosis; they need to be produced, recorded, communicated, disseminated, and above all, seen. In the case of Wahlberg photograph, the form of photography is the ultimate facilitator of its signification.
Every photograph resonates with its spectators on two levels: studium and punctum (Barthes, Camera Lucida, 26-27). Studium refers to the things, objects, atmosphere, and/or settings of the photograph that evoke a certain degree of cultural study and societal connotation. Punctum, on the other hand, is something personal—something that surprises, amuses, or upsets the spectators who are looking at the photograph. Studium and punctum interlock implicitly in every photograph, building a world within the photograph itself and simultaneously constructing a fantastical/quasi-realistic world for its spectators as they see, experience, feel, understand, and imagine. When looking at the Wahlberg photograph, one cannot help but first notice Wahlberg’s firm chest, broad shoulders, strong arms, emerging abs, and, of course, his act of holding his genitals. Perhaps after looking at the photograph for a few seconds, one's eyes move down to see the white ‘Calvin Klein’ captions and then realize: this is actually an underwear advertising campaign.
Therefore, the studium in this photograph is the portrayal of a white, fit, strong man, which actually transforms itself into the punctum of the photograph—the image of ‘manhood’ inherent within the figure of Wahlberg—and is made alive through the representation and dissemination of Wahlberg’s body to whoever is looking at it, evoking their fear, jealousy, disdain, or anger: "I am him, or am I not?" Within this context, the studium and the punctum intertwine and convey an implicit sense of aggression through the binary system of looking/being looked at (Sontag, 4). This aggression manifests in 1. Wahlberg’s gaze at the photographer, the camera, and, to a larger extent, the spectators, which is us; 2. the manifestation of the power of Wahlberg’s gaze when it is imposed upon the spectators, thereby raising questions about spectators’ understanding and projection of ‘manhood’ through his gaze; and 3. the passivity/passive being-looked-at of spectators, who are not only subjected to Wahlberg’s gaze but also to the illustration and physicality of his masculinity. Here, the male gaze again exerts its power through explicitly looking at others, but what is more complex about Wahlberg’s male gaze is that it is physical, intertwined with his genitals, embedded within the white, patriarchal framework, and realizes its own ontology through performative, active looking (Mulvey, 808-809; Miliken, 209).
Thus, Wahlberg’s male gaze is not simply optical; it is physical, material, and creates a definite aura around the image of a ‘perfect man’. ‘Manhood’ might be reflected in his body and his reckless posture, but it is essentially seen and validated in his eyes. However, through the optical, emotional, and sensory interaction between Wahlberg’s gaze and the spectators, ‘manhood’ is not simply validated but gradually constructed as truth for men in the circulation of looking, feeling, and perceiving between the photograph and its spectators. What Wahlberg manifests on this specific media apparatus is an image that is routinized within the political/sexual agenda—one that conveys information and data about the definition of ‘manhood’ through the coalition of Wahlberg’s gaze as an individual and CK’s hegemonic power as a corporation (Seale, 2).
‘Manhood’—the image of the supposed-to-be man—thus becomes a hyperreal truth, devoid of theoretical and geographical foundations, that relies solely on media representation. This constructed truth creates a space for itself to displace other images of men (black, Asian, unfit, non-American), to centralize itself by focusing on the figure of the ‘perfect man’ in the image, and to rule, govern, and regularize—to become a law (Baudrillard, 30). Wahlberg, portrayed in the media apparatus, becomes the ‘true’ representation of men as a species, which simultaneously sentences other men to death, putting their manhood in crisis.
Branding for Underwear, Branding for Manhood
Of course, Wahlberg did not single-handedly put contemporary manhood into crisis because he is merely a substance in the (re)production and circulation of images of the ideal ‘manhood’ in the contemporary corporate world. Moreover, according to Foucault, sex is not something one simply judges but is something one administers (24). What actually operates and facilitates the production and dissemination of the so-called perfect ‘manhood’ is the political/corporate power that controls, administers, governs, and materializes sex. Therefore, two mechanisms cooperate with each other towards the same goal: rendering sex material.
Foucault’s concept of biopolitical power demonstrates that one’s body and sexuality are administered by power apparatuses such as government, prisons, and hospitals. Consequently, one’s subjectivity is also constructed and reinforced through the process of subjugation, rendering one’s body docile. However, this perception still regards power itself as an external actor that implicates its subjects beyond their bodies. In contrast, the current form of power—in Preciado’s view—techno-biopower resides within the bodies of its objects by transforming itself into a technology that controls the behaviour, affect, thoughts, and understanding of its objects (78). In essence, biopolitics is intertwined within a more complex system in which what was purely bio then is now techno. The old hegemonic form of biopower has transformed itself into a technology robust enough in its own quality and locality, yet elastic enough to travel to other territories to wield its power.
The use of photography indeed illustrates the power of the male gaze and thus centralizes the idea of ‘manhood’ in its representation. Yet there is another layer to the use of photography, or perhaps more accurately, not merely photography, but the act of distilling one image of a man and framing it materially, digitally, and indefinitely. In this sense, the use of photography is implicitly rendered technological, functioning as a mechanistic protocol to keep these images of the perfect man—like Wahlberg—in frames, with power, without lives. Man in these images thus becomes bio/technocodes that serve as the password for men in public to access their fantasy or nightmare of manhood: manhood is either something I dream of or something I can never have. This is also to imply that the man in these images is ‘dead’—‘dead’ not in the sense that these male models are actually deprived of the right to live, but in a more foundational way: their bodies, their genitals, their faces, and their whole become artifacts waiting to be displayed, used, exploited, and consumed (Preciado, 99). The ‘dead’ man incessantly functions not based on his living condition but based on his mechanic, technological condition, wherein his quality is more valued as a code, a substance, material for bodies to naturally showcase themselves, and for sex associated with bodies to internally subjugate itself to technology.
Thus, what we see in the Wahlberg photograph is a vivid example of how the technology of techno-biopower internalizes itself with its male objects, depriving them of their subjectivity and reinterpreting their ideal individualistic masculine condition into a general law, a universal image of perfect ‘manhood’ that men need to obey and follow.
However, the operation of techno-biopower does not construct this protocol within its own power structure—this operation has its own multiplicity, which lies in a complex web of various branches of power, of which capital is another main force. Portraying Wahlberg as the ‘perfect’ man in its advertising campaign, CK not only utilizes Wahlberg as material, a substance to visually illustrate the brand/product/corporate image of themselves, but also submits themselves to a law agreed upon without consensus in the entertainment industry in the American context: that sex/gender is for sale. This law itself has its own history, briefly dating back to the 1950s, where Playboy was the leading actor in this system. Thus, within this context, this CK underwear campaign is simply one of the offspring of the sex-capital-gender paradigm. The success of this paradigm is very simple: it transforms our understanding and perception of sex/gender into visual signs, consciously informing us that what is being visually presented is the image we should memorize and to own it, all it takes is to spend a few dollars.
The idea of the perfect ‘manhood’ thus becomes a product, one that distinguishes itself from the underwear and displays its own sexual/gender image as something to be purchased, something that one can keep in their most intimate space (bedroom, bathroom, etc.) as an example of ‘manhood’ for them to look at, absorb, and live with. Wahlberg, or the image of Wahlberg, thus also becomes a product—without his knowledge—serving as one of many moving images that contribute to the industrial circulation/trade between gender and capital. Through this indefinite system of circulation/trade, visual illustrations of manhood associated with these male models—like Wahlberg—detach themselves from the male bodies and transform into independent capital molecules, putting sex/gender, and—in the specific case of the Wahlberg photograph—manhood on sale (Preciado, 118).
Manhood, therefore, negates its own differentiation(s) through this visual representation and reestablishes itself with a sense of sameness in public; that is, men are supposed to look like this: fit, relentless, white. Without differentiation(s), manhood ultimately surrenders itself to the hegemonic framework of media, techno-biopower, and capital in which the body and gender of manhood are deprived of their autonomy, looking up to the body of Wahlberg and firmly believing that such is the truth of manhood for all (Butler, 65).
Manhood is Not Here Yet
CK, nevertheless, acknowledges that their campaigns lack diverse representation of men and thus produce campaigns involving models from different races and sexualities. Brandon Flynn is one of the many examples.
As mentioned at the beginning of this essay, Flynn, who is openly gay, modeled for CK for their 2023 pride underwear campaign. At first glance, this campaign might seem inclusive, diversified, encouraging, and genuine for the LGBTQ community. It also appears to overthrow the old image of ‘manhood’ CK illustrated three decades ago in the Wahlberg photograph and is in the process of establishing a new order, a new image, a different idea of ‘manhood’—one that is gay, joyful, and free. However, this campaign is also deeply problematized and hegemonized, not in the sense that this new image of ‘manhood’ is still white, but in the sense that the way this image, or the idea of ‘manhood’, is produced is rooted in the heteronormative framework, which standardizes laws and norms based on heteronormativity and reduces the gay/queer quality of its gay/queer object.
Indeed, Flynn is photographed in a natural, joyful way, one that seems to express his happiness to the public, announcing the arrival of Pride Month. Yet what we—the spectators—first notice is perhaps his joyful expression, but it is his gesture of grabbing his own genital—like that in the Wahlberg photograph—that catches our optical attention. This posture thus demonstrates the political, sexual, visual, and somatic necessity of the phallus, one that not only sovereignly governs the law and norms of straight men but also governs those of gay men. To be more concise, this specific posture falls into the trap of homonormativity, promising an identity and a future for gay men without actually indicating differentiations between straight men and gay men. Yet, at the same time, it also negates the fact that to have a gay body, to have an authentic gay identity, gay men need to fight against the heteronormative definitions of manhood—such as that of Wahlberg—and the definitions reflected in the ‘masculine’/straght bodies that gay men are imposed upon (Bersani, 209).
In such a case, the ‘manhood' constructed and reinforced in the Flynn photograph is not gay or queer, but rather something rooted in the illusions of homonormativity—a replication of heteronormativity without considering the ontological quality of gay men. After all, being gay means being different—different from being straight, different from living in a straight space, different from having a future that is promised upon one’s birth. It is the ultimate quality of being different that defines the image and law of the ‘manhood’ of gay men (Edelman, 60).
Furthermore, in Muñoz’s words, the idea of homosexuality/queerness is essentially about the ‘rejection of a here and now and insistence on potentiality or concrete possibility for another world’ (1). This world, within and beyond the Flynn photograph, cannot be mechanically replicated from the visuals, looks, settings, and physicality of a straight man. Thus, by emulating the world of a straight man (Wahlberg), the Flynn photograph negates its own gayness/queerness, which is the original quality of its manhood. It accepts the status quo of gay men’s manhood in a here-and-now situation, creating a new order based on the homo(hetero)normative framework, effectively erasing Flynn’s and its gay male spectators' projection of a different ‘manhood’.
Manhood, therefore, for gay men, is a different project, one that requires a different map of routes and exits. This project also states: to be a gay ‘man’ essentially means to relocate one's relation with the world and to create a space in a different geographical context. Manhood, for gay men, essentially, is a concept that is not here yet, and is a form of life that they need to search within and establish beyond.
Conclusion
What both photographic campaigns represent is thus a projected idea of ‘manhood’ embedded in the heteronormative/technopolitical/capitalist system, which transforms the image of ‘manhood’ into a material for circulation, a biocode for access, a substance for trade, and a fantasy for non-white, non-straight/cis men. In contemporary society, manhood ultimately becomes an impasse, one that establishes the foundation of a political/sexual/somatic image of an identity in relation to the world, which, in return, impedes its objects from flourishing, discovering, living, and being. What we—the public, male and female—essentially need is not another replication of the white, muscular body but something leaves room for imagination, multiplicity, and possibility.
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