Bimbology 101: The Science of Bimbofication
I started a new job before the holidays, and I still don’t have the hang of it.
The learning curve probably feels steeper than it is after two years of ambient pandemic anxiety. I panic every time I don’t understand an acronym or fall behind in a meeting. My boss assures me I’m catching on quickly, but my stress isn’t about meeting her expectations.
It’s about meeting mine.
Me tying to contribute in meetings
I’m a perfectionist who sees intelligence as a badge of honour. It’s my toxic trait. Since middle school, I’ve created endless pressure on myself to get straight A’s, juggle too many extracurriculars, and always have something interesting to say. To date, I’ve never gotten a bad performance review and have never had less than three commitments at a time.
I leaned hard into the idea of being a #girlboss as a way to show my value.
For as long as I can remember, my brain has been a convoy of tasks, milestones, and comparisons. Only recently have I thought about what it would be like not to care. What would life be if I could empty my mind of pressure? What if, instead of stressing over how I’m doing at work, I filled my time with the quiet bliss of shopping, manicures, and glitter eye shadow?
Is it too late to become a bimbo?
How I respond to even the slightest amount of peer pressure.
Girls Just Want to Have Fun
To be a bimbo, you need two key characteristics: you must be hot, and you must be dumb. There aren’t standard requirements as to how hot and how dumb, so being a bimbo is mostly a state of mind. It’s about focusing on your looks, and deprioritizing how smart you sound.
It’s a pressure-free, ditsy existence.
Growing up, “bimbo” was a bad word reserved for women that didn’t deserve our attention. We loved to poke fun at the Jessica Simpsons of the world, noting whenever she didn’t know some basic fact on her reality show. Paris and Nicole were media fodder for their bare midriffs and barely-there personalities. The 2000s are littered with headlines of yet another DUI for yet another dumb bitch.
Other women loved to define themselves as anything but bimbos. Artists like Christina Aguilera and Pink worked overtime to convince us that they weren’t your average pop princesses, often at the expense of their peers. They had depth, and they were desperate to show it.
As a result, young Millennial women learnt that intelligence was to be prized above everything else. We were raised to believe that bimbo behaviour was reserved for those hot enough to be outwardly stupid. In movies, we villainized bitchy blondes so we could root for our mousey, brunette, girl-next-door heroines.
Sarcasm always trumped mini skirts.
Characters like Elle Woods are a subversive take on bimbos. Knowing what last season’s colours are, having a pension for pink, and being in a sorority aren’t markers of intelligence. Why can’t you use a fuzzy pen at Harvard? Similarly, Dolly Parton has always flown her bimbo flag high. Her big boobs, big hair, and botox don’t define her mind as a songwriter.
Also, they look fabulous.
So, are bimbos really dumb? Or do they just not care that they’re perceived that way?
Two decades later, and most of the 2000s bimbos are successful businesswomen. Jessica Simpson’s fashion empire is valued at $200 million. The Kardashian family, long criticized for being airheads, have proven time and time again that their branding know-how is worth millions. Paris Hilton recently released a documentary where she suggests that her over-the-top persona was a way of coping with trauma. We chose to see the surface, and she made sure we had something to look at.
Even if they weren’t as dumb as we thought, the hyper-feminine aesthetic of these bimbos has always undermined their intelligence. Why? Because we’ve been trained to think that girly things are stupid. Anything too glittery or flamboyant is proof that you aren’t serious enough for respect.
We’re an entire society of Warners, refusing to taint our image with the likes of Elle Woods.
Like many proud brunettes, I did my best to distance myself from the girlygirls. Instead, I landed among the Manic Pixie Dream Girls who filled time with obscure books, quirky hobbies, and a series of depressed men. Our guiding force was “pretty, but she doesn’t know it.” The goal was to be so focused on a career, math equation, or music collection that you never noticed you were drop-dead gorgeous. We wanted to be the ultimate, low-maintenance girl.
But, really, what’s so wrong with knowing you’re hot? Shopping for crop tops seems like way more fun than hoping to get noticed at a Death Cab for Cutie concert.
Gen Z agrees. They have taken a completely new approach to the Bimbo aesthetic. On TikTok, there’s a whole community of “New Age Bimbos” living with the motto:
No Thoughts. Head Empty. Just Vibes
The younger generation is reclaiming “bimbo” the same way we reclaimed “bitch” and “slut” before. Most feminists align with body positivity, sexual freedom, and unapologetic boardroom banter. Now the new wave is asking us to accept baby voices and bubble-gum smacking as part of the feminist agenda.
To me, the idea is freeing. Why yes, I’d love not to care about knowing the answer to a question. How wonderful it must be to not have endless shame about saying something wrong. Imagine taking pride in dressing to feel sexy every day, without second-guessing that you’re doing too much.
The allure of the bimbo lifestyle has many former #girlbosses transforming themselves into bimbos: Bimbofication.
Chrissy Chlapecka, one of TikTok’s most notable bimbos, defines the New Age version as a “kind, smart, anti-racist, pro-LGBTQ+ person who’s covered in pink, rhinestones, Juicy Couture and self-confidence.”
They’ve adopted the Legally Blonde flavour of bimbo, where you aren’t expected to flaunt your intelligence at every moment. Instead, you can flaunt your cleavage, glitter bikinis, and small dogs. Only when it’s your turn to approach the witness stand do you bend and snap in their faces.
Honestly, that’s hot.
I Smell Sex and Candy
Besides the party girls of the aughts, there have been hundreds of blueprints for how to achieve the bimbo lifestyle. From Marilyn Monroe to Miss Piggy, hyper-feminine bimbos are everywhere.
Including, of course, the Green M&M.
Since her creation, the Green M&M was made to melt in your mouth, not in your hand. She came onto the scene after a longstanding rumour that the green chocolates are an aphrodisiac. In the 70s, students allegedly picked the green ones out to feed their crushes.
In 1997, Mars revealed the Green M&M in an ad campaign titled “Is it true what they say about green ones?” In 2008, they sold bags of all-green candies for Valentine’s Day.
Sex is part of Green M&M’s DNA. She’s lusty, mysterious, and overtly sexual by design.
At least she was.
This week, Mars announced they are redesigning M&M characters to be more progressive. Specifically, they switched out the Green M&M’s white go-go boots for a pair of sneakers “to reflect her effortless confidence." Naturally, the internet exploded.
Taking away the sex appeal of the Green M&M just as New Age Bimbos are taking over the internet is hilariously bad timing for Mars. They assure us that the change in footwear will allow people to focus on more than just her boots. Mars claims they’re creating “more nuanced personalities” for their mascots “to underscore the importance of self-expression.” I’m not sure how making the Green M&M less feminine achieves that.
Those fabulous boots were the most expressive part of the entire cast. If any of the spokescandies had nuance, it was her.
One Reddit user has written this brilliant manifesto on the subject:
The green M&M has spent decades building her brand as a horny, sexy bitch, and for what? For her creators to give her Larry David footwear in the name of feminism? For Mars Wrigley to give themselves pats on the back and big fat fucking raise at the next corporate retreat in Palo Alto? Guess what: the green M&M is a feminist, and she's a dirty slut. We are real, and we exist, and we refuse to tolerate this disgusting little attempt at erasure. We are given so little, and we have tolerated so much. Let the green M&M keep her go-go boots. Let her get blackout and suck dick in the bathroom at Acme on a Wednesday. This is what we want. This is what we deserve. This is what she deserves
The Green M&M strutted straight from bimbo icon to martyr. The censorship of her wardrobe, the assumption that her sex life and fashion sense had anything to do with her depth of character, and the blatant dismissal of her history are proof enough that bimbos deserve more.
Let the girls be silly, sexy, and stress-free.
After years of proving that we are smart enough to be CEOs and run the world, maybe it’s time we let ourselves be a little ditsy. Let’s all strap on our sexiest boots and stomp on the ridiculous expectations we set for ourselves to be “not like other girls.” Because ladies, I’m really tired of trying to be put together and interesting all the time.
I’d much rather get a spray tan and take selfies.
