Where Do We Draw the (Eye)Line(r)?: Makeup and the Consumption of Latina Bodies

Where Do We Draw the (Eye)Line(r)?: Makeup and the
          Consumption of Latina Bodies
                                   Amanda L. Matousek
                                          Wofford College

Abstract
This article examines the social media responses to the marketing of two MAC Cosmetics makeup campaigns
inspired by deceased Latinas. The conception and creation of the MAC-Rodarte Juárez collection and the MAC
Selena collection represent an awareness of increasing Latinx visibility and buying power in the U.S. However,
each exoticizes Latinas and contributes to their social and political invisibility in particular ways. While super-
ficially it seems obvious why consumers would reject the Juárez collection and not Selena’s, a more profound
analysis within the contexts of body studies and Deborah Paredez’s notion of Selenidad, or the acts of remember-
ing Selena, reveals a deeper distinction. That is, the contrast of these MAC makeup campaigns reveals the line
between the agency of claiming Latinx memory and identity and a politics of the corpse that banalizes violence
and furthers impunity, invisibility, ignorance, and indifference toward real suffering bodies.

Introduction

      Scholars and artists, including Deborah Paredez, Isabel Molina Guzmán, Angharad N.
Valdivia, and Coco Fusco, have examined U.S. culture’s hyper-commodification of Latinas,
with particular focus on the posthumous fame of icons like Selena Quintanilla, Frida Kahlo,
and Evita Perón. In her book, Latinos Inc., Arlene Dávila looks critically at how “Hispanic mar-
keting” shapes U.S. Latinidad, or latinness (29). Whether Hispanic marketing is regarded as a
Latinxs’1 “coming of age” or a condemnation of “their commodification,” Dávila contends that
this “…selling and promoting [of ] generalized ideas about ‘Hispanics’ to be readily marketed
by corporate America” further alienates them as “…a foreign rather than intrinsic component
of U.S. society, culture, and history, suggesting that the growing visibility of Latino popula-
tions parallels an expansion of the technologies that render them exotic and invisible” (29-30).
This article examines the social media responses to the marketing of two MAC Cosmetics
makeup collections inspired by deceased Latinas. The conception and creation of both col-
lections represents an awareness of increasing Latinx visibility and buying power in the U.S.
However, each exoticizes Latinas and contributes to their social and political invisibility in
particular ways. To illustrate, while “…commercial representations may shape people’s cultur-
al identities…[and] affect notions of belonging and cultural citizenship in public life,” they do
not automatically translate to social or political empowerment (Dávila 2). Despite the fact that
a record number of Latinxs are currently serving in congress, they are still underrepresented
when juxtaposed with the roughly 59 million Latinxs who form the largest minority group in

1       A gender-neutral inclusive term used to reclaim identity and reflect the multiracial, multiethnic, and
multilingual Latinxs in the U.S.

                      17 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

the U.S. This underrepresentation combined with toxic anti-immigrant rhetoric, targeted vi-
olence against Latinxs2, and inequitable educational outcomes in the U.S. complicates the
message that the ability to consume and be consumed affirms Latinx identities and points to
their prominence and relevance in U.S. society.
     In 2010, beauty bloggers, who were previewing the products, successfully brought down
the controversial MAC-Rodarte Juárez makeup collaboration before it could officially launch
on the market. Inspired by the maquiladora3 workers in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico, the makeup
featured ghostly and bloody palettes called “factory” and “Bordertown.” In 2016, the Selena
Quintanilla MAC collection4, honoring the late singer, sold out within 24 hours of its release.
While the latter collection explicitly furthers the invisibility of the murdered women of Juárez,
the former seeks to celebrate the life and memory of “the Queen of Tejano Music” to maintain
her visibility and relevance. Superficially, it seems obvious why people would reject the Juárez
collection and not Selena’s. However, a more profound analysis within the contexts of body
studies and Deborah Paredez’s notion of Selenidad, or the acts of remembering Selena, reveals
a deeper distinction between celebration of these Latina bodies and abhorrence to their fe-
tishization. That is, the contrast of these MAC makeup campaigns reveals the line between
the agency of claiming Latinx memory and identity and a politics of the corpse that banalizes
violence and furthers impunity, invisibility, ignorance, and indifference toward real suffering
bodies.

Necropolitics and Gore Capitalism

Before analyzing social media responses to both MAC makeup collections, it is essential to
contextualize them within the theoretical frameworks of necropolitics and gore capitalism.
In “Necropolitics,” Achille Mbembe asks how life, death, and the human body are “inscribed
in the order of power” (12). He expands upon Michel Foucault’s discussion of biopower, sov-
ereignty, and the state of exception5 by focusing on the sovereign power to decide who lives
and dies. This includes the power to dictate norms and laws and to wage wars that make cer-
tain populations, like slaves and survivors of colonial/imperial occupations and contemporary
wars/war machines, live in a precarious third state between life and death. Mbembe

       …put[s] forward the notion of necropolitics and necropower to account for the various
       ways in which, in our contemporary world, weapons are deployed in the interest of
       maximum destruction of persons and the creation of death-worlds, new and unique
       forms of social existence in which vast populations are subjected to conditions of life
       conferring upon them the status of living dead. (40)

Ciudad Juárez is one example of a death-world where violence (especially femicidal) and im-
punity coalesce to transform its terrified residents into the living dead—a fact visually mani-

2      This includes the massacre of Latinxs at an El Paso, Texas Walmart in August 2019 and the burning of
       Latinx literature at Georgia Southern University in October 2019.
3      Free-trade factories at the U.S.-Mexican border characterized by exploitative labor practices
4      Originally borne from an online petition
5      For example, Nazi concentration camps and plantations

                   18 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

fested through the MAC-Rodarte makeup and fashion collaboration.
     Similarly, Sayak Valencia draws from necropolitics to examine Tijuana, Mexico as a case
study on gore capitalism6. Borrowing from the film genre characterized by extremely brutal
violence, gore capitalism is “…the undisguised and unjustified bloodshed that is the price the
Third World pays for adhering to the increasingly demanding logic of capitalism” (Valencia
19). Consequently, in gore capitalism, “…the destruction of the body becomes in itself the
product or commodity…as death has become the most profitable business in existence” (Va-
lencia 20-21). Although Valencia focuses on criminal entities, her ideas relate to how violently
murdered bodies can be depoliticized to sell makeup and fashion. Valencia explains that or-
ganized crime infiltrates and becomes part of the legitimate political system through necro-
empowerment. In other words, criminals utilize dystopian practices such as drug-trafficking,
killing, kidnapping, etc. in order to self-affirm and acquire wealth within the gore capitalist
system (22, 25, 301). These endriago7 subjects, or “radical capitalist subjects,” respond to their
being left out of the legal economy through violence and the black market (Valencia 26-27).
    Valencia’s perspectives on socialization through consumption are especially relevant to the
subject/identity formation prompted by both makeup campaigns. She argues that

       [t]hrough the establishment of hyper-consumption, capitalism…creates a neo-ontolo-
       gy that re-posits the fundamental questions of any subject: Who am I? What is the
       meaning of my existence? What place do I occupy in the world? Why? The response to
       these questions is founded on an obsession with consumption…8 (Valencia 82).

While erasing the real subjects of the Juárez makeup collection, the First World designers and
the targeted wealthy consumers affirm their own identities as separate from the living dead
of the Third World. Conversely, Latinas can point to Selena’s collection as evidence of their
self-discovery and significance within U.S. culture. Therefore, the logic goes that consuming
Selena gives meaning to the buyer’s existence and place in society. Further, Ksenija Bilbija
agrees that “…the logic of late capitalism constructs identity through consumption and not
through human relationships” (303). The analysis of social media responses to both makeup
campaigns will show that while consuming Latina bodies has the potential to validate Latinx
identities, they are still rooted in a hyper-consumerist logic that disproportionately devalues
and destroys brown (female) bodies. While seeing oneself represented in advertising and pop
culture is certainly a positive development in terms of cultural belonging, as Dávila and Valen-
cia9 have pointed out, it does not necessarily translate to political empowerment. Moreover, it
can exacerbate gore capitalism and its dystopian practices.
         It is well known that makeup and fashion capitalize on the body as product. Valencia
adds that

6      Valencia argues that the brutal violence of gore capitalism is more intense within border zones.
7      Taken from the literary character and enemy who is man, hydra, and dragon that Amadís de Gaula must
       confront to refer to the “ultraviolent, destructive subjects of gore capitalism” (133).
8      Valencia uses the term biomarket to refer to the internalized logic that tells us that consumer-action “can-
       not be confronted or eliminated” (82-83).
9      Valencia explains that “…marginalized people also want to (have to) be consumers, since they seek a
       form of socialization/competition through consumption” (135). This also relates to the notion that con-
       sumption forms and reaffirms identity as a “triumph through purchasing” (Valencia 136).

                    19 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

[f ]or necropolitics and endriago subjects, the body is fundamental because it is con-
       ceived of as a critical commodity, since this is what gore capitalism advertises. The
       body has a specific value, ranging from medical and aesthetic technologies to ‘take
       care’ and ‘rejuvenate’ it to the release of the body after it is kidnapped and ransom
       is paid. The body’s care, its preservation, its freedom, and its integrity are all offered to
       us as products. There is a hyper-corporalization and a hyper-valorization applied to
       the body, which has been transformed into a profit-making commodity. (208)

Unlike the criminal enterprises of gore capitalism that literally measure “wealth” through the
body count, the MAC makeup collections straddle the line between violent acts against the
body and its beautification. This is marketable since “decorative violence” desensitizes con-
sumers and makes death and violence “fashionable objects of consumption”10 (Valencia 247).
    Valencia offers the decorative example of an AK-47 transformed into a lamp to be sold as
an accent for the home. She explains that

       [u]nderstanding violence as decorative psychologically prepares society, making vio-
       lence progressively less offensive, dangerous, and frightening, allowing both public
       and private spaces to be invaded by consumption with clear connections to warfare,
       ultimately converting these objects into desirable, enjoyable and consumable items.
       (231)

According to Valencia, radical neoliberalism has helped create fashion designers who roman-
ticize violence and miss the connection with real suffering bodies (290). This is precisely what
occurs with the MAC-Rodarte partnership and the frivolity with which they treat the fem-
icides in Ciudad Juárez. Instead of trivializing violence, people must “…speak of the body,
of the violence enacted upon it and suffered within it” and “…be able to construct meaning
around the death of any person [t]o make sure that the death and the pain of an Other cause a
shudder in all of our bodies” (Valencia 291-292). Finally, since both makeup collections are sell-
ing a fantasy, they erase the “heartbreakingly palpable and irreparable” realities of the murder
of Selena and of the thousands of other women in Ciudad Juárez (Valencia 235).

Femicide in Ciudad Juárez

    Next, it is essential to summarize the causes of the femicide epidemic in Mexico. Mexico’s
relative social and political stability since 1930, perpetuated by the pretense of democracy, be-
gan to break down in the 1990s through NAFTA and other neoliberal economic policies11.

10     Valencia also highlights the banalization of violence through television shows like The Sopranos and
       video games like Grand Theft Auto.
11     Kathleen Bruhn and Daniel Levy describe how “[v]iolence reached into the upper levels and inner
       sanctums of power, exposing ruptures at the heart of the [political] establishment. Assassinations,
       which had riddled Mexico in the early decades of the twentieth century and then disappeared during
       the decades of strong stability, returned with chilling frequency” (7-8).

                   20 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

Since the 1990s, thousands of women have been disappeared, raped, and murdered in Ciudad
Juárez in the Mexican state of Chihuahua12. This “…longest epidemic of femicidal violence in
modern history” is perpetrated against young, impoverished, and dark-skinned female bodies
often working in the free-trade manufacturing plants that straddle the U.S.-Mexico border
(Gaspar de Alba and Guzmán 1). The violence has been attributed to drug cartels, serial kill-
ers, patriarchal and machista attitudes toward women, globalization and neoliberal economic
policies, corruption, and impunity. Craig Whitney asserts that the femicides “…[have] more
to do with the powerful forces at work in the city than [they do] with ‘bad people who do bad
things.’ He explains that “powerful financial interest[s],” among multinational corporations,
the illegal drug trade, and the government and police forces that profit from impunity, main-
tain the status quo and create a hotbed of violence (“Interview by FBOMB”). Sergio González
Rodríguez calls this the femicide machine, or “…an apparatus that didn’t just create the con-
ditions for the murders of dozens of women and little girls, but developed the institutions that
guarantee impunity for those crimes and even legalized them” (7).
      Despite the devastating statistics, tragic stories, and activist movements, we still “know
too much, and yet we continue to know nothing” about the femicides (Gaspar de Alba and
Guzmán 2). Ignacio Corona calls this “the politics of no-information,” and discusses how jour-
nalism too often neutralizes, normalizes, and reproduces violence at the U.S.-Mexico border.
Corona explains that the media “…typically offer little more than a voyeuristic approach to the
themes of violence and death along the border,” and thus leave a void of knowledge regarding
the identities of the victim and the killer, among other essential elements that make up the
whole story. For Corona, telling the women’s stories represents a public commitment to dis-
covering the truth (108, 117). This echoes Valencia’s call to speak of the mutilated body and to
construct meaning out of death caused by gore capitalism.
    Alicia Gaspar de Alba moves away from finding the culprits to figuring out why “…such
viciousness [is] directed at the brown female body” (8). Ana del Sarto considers how fem-
icidal violence is inherent to neoliberal economic structures and patriarchal views about
working women. She states that this subjectivity outside of the norm is used to justify treat-
ing these women as objects of violence (83, 89). Melissa W. Wright agrees that the Mexican
government uses the fact that the victims of femicide inserted themselves into the public
sphere to justify the violence against them:

       The discourse of the public woman normalized the violence and used the victims’
       bodies as a way to substantiate the politics based on the patriarchal notions of nor-
       mality. Normal Mexican families, with normal, private women safely at home, had
       nothing to worry about.13 (713-714)

12     In his book, The Femicide Machine, Sergio González Rodríguez approximates the number of women
       killed at 400. Although other sources estimate the murders to be in the thousands (Leão, “Women’s
       Media Center”). Elaine Graham-Leigh points out that the fact “[t]hat there can be such uncertainty
       about the numbers is an indication of how poor the authorities’ response has been to these crimes
       (“Counterfire”).
13     In her article, “Ghost Dance in Ciudad Juárez at the End/Beginning of the Millennium,” María Socorro
       Tabuenca Córdoba also discusses the “sexed and sexist discourse at work” in Ciudad Juárez through her
       analysis of government advertisements and propaganda. Among others, she explores the message that
       “…’decent’ women maintain themselves in private spaces. But women who dare to go dancing ‘until
       dawn’ put themselves at risk of becoming another statistic” (102).

                   21 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

Here, these same bodies are coopted to promote fashion and makeup, which only adds to the
normalization of violence and to the erasure of their individual identities.
      In her forward for the edited volume Accounting for Violence: Marketing Memory in Lat-
in America by Ksenija Bilbija and Leigh A. Payne, Luisa Valenzuela explains that the book is
about “…how to keep remembrance alive without losing respect” (ix). In the text, scholars ex-
plore the “memory market” borne of specific Latin American dictatorships from the 1960s to
the 1980s and the subsequent transitions to democracy. This memory market “…explores the
ways in which time and memory are used to produce value and values—to profit, or benefit,
from remembering the repressive past, to not repeat it,” and is profitable (successful) when
it generates “…progress toward human rights goals, acknowledgment of events in the past,
justice, and deterrence” (Bilbija and Payne, Introduction, 1, 3). However, because the authors
recognize that the marketing of memory can often lead to the promotion of “…financial profits
over social transformation” and to depoliticization14, they explain that their work “…values the
memory market and its products in some cases, criticizes it in others, and explores the imagi-
native uses of such a market” (Introduction, 23-24; 2). This relates to the notion that Latinx rep-
resentation in pop culture and advertising can foster a sense of belonging and progress while
contributing to an overall depoliticization and desensitization of their daily lived experiences.
The following section will show how creative allusions to the plight of the dead women of
Juárez do not prioritize human rights causes and therefore add to their invisibility as subjects.

MAC-Rodarte Juárez Collaboration

    Rodarte is a high-end clothing and accessories brand founded in 2005 by sisters, Kate and
Laura Mulleavy. The company’s moniker pays tribute to the original spelling and pronuncia-
tion of their Mexican-Italian mother’s maiden name, Rodart. Through this maternal line, they
are Latinas themselves, whose grandfather migrated to Los Angeles after the Mexican Rev-
olution (Morgan). The Mulleavys are described as “fashion’s outsider nerds” who are “push-
ing [clothing’s] relevance from the racks and the runway into the realms of other art forms”
(Peretz). They have designed costumes for the acclaimed movie Black Swan, gowns inspired by
Italian frescoes, as well as Star Wars wear. Their first collection, inspired by California Red-
wood trees, appeared on the cover of Women’s Wear Daily. Famous faces like Michelle Obama,
Selena Gomez, Yalitza Aparicio, January Jones, and Taylor Swift have all donned their cre-
ations. Some of their pieces are also featured in their original screenplay, Woodshock, starring
Kirsten Dunst.
     Their accomplishments and continued popularity notwithstanding, the Rodarte partner-
ship with MAC Cosmetics, based on the label’s Autumn/Winter 2010-2011 fashion collection
has garnered much controversy15. At this show, the sisters and famous attendees alike described
the line as dreamlike. They applauded the visual representation of a spiritual subconscious
state between wakefulness and sleep. They touted the light and ethereal garments inspired by
a dark place—the Mexican bordertown—, a transient landscape (“Fashion Show”).

14     For example, “…the Che [Guevara] image ‘sells’ on the capitalist market only because he no longer poses
       (Revolutionary Socialist) threat to that market” (Introduction, 28-29).
15     Rodarte’s parent company, Estee Lauder, has its own controversies. The son of one of the founders and
       President of the World Jewish Congress, Ronald Lauder, has been linked to Israeli extremists and anti-
       Muslim activism. (WRMEA.org, Telesurtv.net).

                    22 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

They explain that the clothing invokes sleepwalking and the act of being in between states or
existing between two worlds just like the women of Juárez who “make their way to factory jobs
in the middle of the night” (Hing). Still others described the apparel as cozy, yet vaguely dis-
turbing, where romance and emotion combined to form a sense of radioactive romanticism.
In other words: “The Great Gatsby buried under a nuclear meltdown” (“Fashion Show”). Kate
Mulleavy directly confirms that the collection represents the ghosts of the women of Juárez
(“Fashion Show”). Later, both sisters release an official statement indicating that they were
inspired by their travels through the border desert landscape.
    Nevertheless, it seems more likely that the Juárez collection was inspired by the ghost story
since, “[o]ver time, [The Mulleavys’] vision has grown darker, their clothing riskier, more de-
constructed, punk, and gothic,” [and] “[e]ach collection has been stranger than the last, influ-
enced by anime and horror films, and elements of S & M” (Fortini). This time, the Mulleavys’
usual risks and bold statements would clash with the real context of the murdered women of
Juárez. Certainly, fashion and makeup are art forms where shocking products can lead to valu-
able dialogue and criticism of politics, pop culture, and everything in between. This, however,
is not the initial result of the Juárez collaboration with MAC.
    Similar to the fashion line, the accompanying makeup collection ranges from romantic to
troubling. There are sparkling and pearlized lipsticks in hues of white, gold, green, pink, and
violet called “Ghost Town,” “Rose State,” “Sleepless,” “Rodarte,” and “Del Norte.” Most evoc-
ative of violence are the eyeshadows. “Bordertown” is a blood-red mixed with a rotting-flesh
gray. It is reminiscent of blood-streaked pavement and invokes imagery of brutal and gory
death. “Sleepwalker,” whose name is more offensive than the color, is beige mixed with veins
of pale blue and pink. A shimmery beige-brown, “Badlands,” seems closest to a shade in-
spired by the desert. The pale pearl beauty powder “Softly Drifting,” the shimmery pink blush
“Quinceañera,” and the pink and mint nail lacquers “Juárez” and “Factory,” round out the
product collection that combines the eerie with the designers’ tone-deaf representation of
Latinx cultures.
    Beauty bloggers who had greatly anticipated the MAC-Rodarte collaboration were the first
to denounce the collection for its tastelessness and disregard for the gravity of femicide in Ci-
udad Juárez. Their swift and deliberate action caused Rodarte and MAC to publicly apologize,
promise to change the name of the products, and donate 100,000 dollars to a Juárez charity.
When further pushed by a petition16 claiming this amount was minuscule, MAC cancelled the
cosmetics line and pledged to “donate all of its projected global profits from [the] collection to
local and international groups that work to improve the lives of the women and girls of Juárez”
(“Rodarte and MAC Collaboration Canceled”). Colorlines.com organized a virtual panel of the
most prominent bloggers who first drew attention to the issue, including Jessica Wakeman of
the women’s interest news site The Frisky, Liloo Grunewald of the beauty blog Le Petit Jardin
de Liloo, and Yinka Odusote of the blog Vex in the City. Wakeman was dismayed at how unin-
formed and insensitive the companies had been. Grunewald, who admittedly had never heard
of the femicides before, was astounded that this line could have ever passed the first stages
of production. Odusote argued that there is “absolutely no way that this can be condoned or
passed off as being artistic” (Hing).

16     Petition created by Olivia Wood (ipetitions)

                    23 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

In her book, [Un]framing the “Bad Woman”: Sor Juana, Malinche, Coyolxauhqui and Other
Rebels with a Cause, Alicia Gaspar de Alba refers to the collection as “maquiladora goth.” She
agrees that “[t]he blood-streaked eye shadow, bone-white foundation, and fraying dresses”
recall images of the bodies found in the Juárez desert, and undoubtedly highlight “…the de-
sensitization of violence against women on the U.S-Mexico border” (168). In response to this
apathy, Gaspar de Alba urges the public to

       …re-member the dismembered Coyolxauhquis17 of Juárez…[T]hey are more than vic-
       tims…They were women and girls who lived and died among us. They had lives and
       names and histories imprinted on their bodies, they had dreams and troubles of their
       own. They left mothers desperate to find them, wailing like Lloronas18 at the indifferent
       desert to bring their daughters home. (172)

Steeped in the bloody and ghostly colors of death, unfortunately, the Rodarte-MAC Juárez
collection only furthers this indifference and desensitization.
    Since the Rodarte-MAC collaboration undermines the ongoing efforts to locate and com-
memorate the murdered women of Juárez, it is crucial to name them. Norma Ledezma Ortega
founded the group Justicia para Nuestras Hijas in Chihuahua in 2002 after the disappearance
and murder of her own daughter Paloma Angélica Escobar Ledezma. At the time of her death,
Paloma studied computer science and worked at a maquiladora. The organization brings to-
gether the women’s family members, lawyers, and activists to perform the investigations that
the government does not19 (“Justicia”). The Rodarte-MAC cosmetic line unquestionably en-
raged Ledezma Ortega: “We try [so hard] to preserve our daughters’ memory with dignity
and to defend their right to life…,” [that] we felt that this [collection] was a mockery” (my
translation, “Justicia”). She reiterates that women like her daughter are not a myth and that
disappearance and femicide is a reality in Juárez and beyond (“Justicia”).
    Even for the uninformed observer, it is clear that both the Juárez-inspired fashion line and
the cosmetics collection are disjointed and evocative. Not surprisingly, the Mulleavys modi-
fied their original comments regarding the products. In the official apology statement, they
were no longer inspired by the ghosts of the women of Juárez. Instead, they reiterated the in-
fluence of the desert landscape (“Where Their Spirits Roam”)20. Some of the runway models’
clothing could be interpreted as Southwest-inspired with desert roses and geometric patterns
colored turquoise, orange, and pink. However, their faces whitewashed with powder, cheeks
deeply blushed to appear sunken, and eyes darkly and thickly lined invoke death imagery.
Those wearing tattered white lace and bloody eye colors resemble corpse brides.
     Further, the disconnected product names themselves reveal a mixture of misguided in-
tention and overgeneralization of complex Latinx cultures. Randomly labelling a blush
quinceañera does not reinforce a borderland aesthetic.

17     Aztec goddess whose brother Huitzilopochtli dismembered her
18     The Weeping Woman from the pan-Latinx legend of a mother condemned to wander the earth looking
       for the children she lost
19     The organization has received funds from the Global Fund for Human Rights and the Pfizer Company.
20     The designers “contended [that] the line was inspired by the desert landscapes and the women who
       work factory jobs in the area, but many felt [that] the cosmetics line made light of the poverty and vio-
       lence in Juárez” (Kennedy-Ross).

                    24 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

To give the fashion line a deeper context, and thus render it more defensible, MAC and Rodarte
could have used their art to criticize impunity and inspire change21. Instead, by making Lati-
na death visible, they only rendered the murdered women of Juarez’s identities all the more
invisible22.
    Blogger She’s Got Plenty agrees that any potential awareness brought on by the fashion line
is corrupted by the addition of the makeup collection. She exhibited collages on her website
combining the runway models and makeup products with Mexican calaveras, or skull imag-
ery, and the iconic pink crosses erected in the desert to remember the murdered women of
Juárez. The blogger explains that she created the images

       …to show the cognitive dissonance between [her] love for Rodarte and [her] discom-
       fort in their use of femicide as inspiration for fashion…Rodarte’s ghostly portrayal in
       their collection is an accurate reflection of how femicide in Juárez is regarded; as sur-
       real events that drift away like ghosts in the night, only to be forgotten. (“Where Their
       Spirits Roam”)

She wonders when “…art imitating life cross[es] the line between acceptable and tasteless”
(“Where Their Spirits Roam”). This gets at the distinction between the fetishization of the
Juárez bodies and the exaltation of Selena’s. Where is the line drawn between fetishizing death
and celebrating life? And, following Mbembe, where are these bodies inscribed in the order of
power? In both cases, the commodification of memory is rooted in the violent murder of Lati-
nas. While the distinction is certainly delineated by the continuous cultivation of the purity of
the Selena brand juxtaposed to the indifference toward the “invisible” victims of femicide, it is
still productive to consider both the deeper bodily implications of these fashion and makeup
lines and the degree to which they erase the “real” Latina bodies that they represent.

21     In May 2018, MAC Cosmetics Middle East inspired a less controversial debate with their video makeup
       tutorial, “Get Ready for Suhoor,” depicting a model applying makeup for the predawn meal of Rama-
       dan. While glamour is part of the celebration in certain Middle Eastern communities, many American
       Muslims on Twitter quickly pointed out that they typically roll out of bed in their pajamas to eat (Kuru-
       villa).
22     Ksenija Bilbija signals similar issues with Diesel and Ripley ads that appeared in South America. To ad-
       vertise jeans, Diesel displayed young men and women under water, bound at the wrists and ankles, and
       chained to cinder blocks with the phrase: ‘They are not your first jeans, but they could be your last. At
       least you’ll leave a beautiful corpse’ (292). The Ripley ads featured models who were bound, shackled,
       hanging from hooks, and with sacks over their heads. Bilbija explains that the creative team at McCann
       Erickson were inspired by the torture of Iraqi prisoners by U.S. soldiers at the Abu Ghraib prison: “Mc-
       Cann Erickson’s ‘translation’ of the Abu Ghraib images lacks blood, or expressions of pain, suffering,
       and trauma in general. What is left in their staging of violence are ‘clean,’ exquisite bodies…Such visual
       rhetoric mimicking torture trophy photographs is a kind of strategy that places the viewer in the posi-
       tion of a perpetrator, a sadistic voyeur, a complicit bystander, or even a victim. In that sense, McCann
       Erickson’s marketing specialists are not offering a critical comment…nor trying to cultivate socially con-
       scious citizens…they are using the air of empowerment and irreverence from the Abu Ghraib frame of
       reference in order to promote sales” (297). Similarly, she also states that “…no one was expected to shed
       a tear after looking at” the Diesel ads (305). Bilbija concludes that neither company was interested in
       “raising social consciousness,” but were instead “in [the] business of promoting their brand” (305).

                    25 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

Twitter Reactions to the MAC-Rodarte Juárez Makeup Collection

   In order to explore the social media response to the MAC-Rodarte Juárez makeup collection,
I compiled every tweet with the hashtags #MACRodarte or #RodarteMAC. Then, based on my
content analysis, I categorized the tweets as activating, “absurdizing,” and meaning-making
to represent their overarching sentiments. The activating subset of tweets were from Twitter
users who drew attention to larger issues at stake or called for some form of social activism. @
monina82 wanted to return the focus to the murdered women rendered invisible by the end-
less cycle of violence and impunity: “The #MACRodarte campaign doesn’t offend me, it’s the
impunity and violence and femicide in #Juarez that offends me.” @Galen_UK saw the nega-
tive publicity and press attention as an opportunity for MAC, Rodarte, and individuals to do
more to thwart the violence in Juárez and other border towns. Others planned to boycott the
collection, refusing to allow companies to profit from the plight of the murdered women, “es-
pecially after they tried to lie about what influenced them” (@BigFashionista, @TheAlterLife).
     @musicalhouses gives no credit to MAC and Rodarte for raising awareness and reminds us
that: “For all the girls who think [they] raised awareness, no they didn’t, and they didn’t want
to! We did, not them!” This illustrates the significance of the bloggers’ and other social me-
dia users’ swift reactions. Since they had previewed the products, they halted the full rollout
of the makeup line and, in so doing, brought greater recognition to the victims of femicide.
Where Hispanic marketing generalized their suffering and rendered their identities invisible,
online activists helped to expose what really happens to women in Ciudad Juárez.
      The “absurdizing” group of tweets utilized humor and irony to draw attention to the ab-
surdity of the cosmetics. One user suggested that MAC and Rodarte, in a clever marketing
ploy, orchestrated the entire controversy for publicity (@promakeupstore). Similarly, @Nan-
cy_Siledhel noted that the planned release date of the cosmetics was September 15th, the eve
of Mexico’s Independence Day when the Mexican President shouts the famous Grito de Do-
lores, or Cry of Dolores, on the balcony of the National Palace. Some commented on the igno-
rance and indifference to femicide in Juárez expressed in other users’ tweets. @musicalhouses
shared her “LOL of the day: A comment on my #rodartemac post spelled Juarez as Jaurez.
Unsurprisingly, that person thinks that it’s just makeup.” @tsunimee ridiculed the product
naming in her tweet: “Juarez: City in Mexico where thousands of women were murdered. Also,
an opal pink nail polish from Mac.” The immediate consciousness to foil the plans of beloved
giants in the cosmetics and fashion worlds speaks to the power and persistent online activism
of these diverse bloggers and social media users. In real ways, they helped reverse the social
mechanisms that continue to undermine Latinx individuality and to perpetuate Latinx invis-
ibility. The online activists point to the irony of appropriating Latinx struggles only to depict
them frivolously through fashion and makeup.
       The final category of meaning-making Juárez tweets portray the emotions associated
with what buying and wearing the makeup would signify. @ImperfectPaint was perturbed by
the juxtaposition of the vanity and privilege of the people who would use the product to the
suffering of the people after which it’s named. Another tweet compared it to “painting [her]
face with the blood of those poor women” (@LauraWheat). Others expressed sadness at such
blatant exploitation and argued that no amount of money could make up for the indifference,
carelessness, and ignorance of the MAC-Rodarte collaboration (@EmmaSaidWhat, @Suxani-
ta).

                   26 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

The bloggers and social media users effectively and efficiently identified that the attention to
the victims of femicide in Ciudad Juárez brought forth by the makeup collection and fashion
line would not translate to greater visibility or better outcomes in the real world. Like Dávila,
they knew that this absurd display of their perceived identities would only further make them
invisible, pointing again to the idea that Latinx representation in marketing does not neces-
sarily lead to better treatment, rights, or political capital. Perhaps @alisonbayne sums it up
best: “I’m used to women’s bodies being manipulated to sell things, but #rodartemac are using
corpses.” These activating, absurdizing, and meaning-making tweets return the focus to the
women of Juárez. Furthermore, they demonstrate the power of grassroots social movements
to invert the hegemonic politics of the Latina corpse in order to empower Latinxs to reclaim
their histories and identities.

The Commodification of Latinx Bodies

   Isabel Molina Guzmán and Angharad N. Valdivia have examined U.S. culture’s hyper-com-
modification of Latinas who “have gained iconic status as representatives of feminine Latini-
dad”23 (209). Molina Guzmán and Valdivia emphasize the irony that Latinas like Frida Kahlo,
Evita Perón, and Selena Quintanilla only reach the heights of fame that they know elsewhere
in U.S. mainstream culture after death (210). And, while this iconic status

       …may provide the opportunity for individual Latinas to open spaces for vocality and
       action, [it] nevertheless builds on a tradition of exoticization, racialization and sexual-
       ization, a tradition that serves to position Latinas as continual foreigners and a cultural
       threat. (217)

It is true that this notion of Latinas as continual foreigners in the U.S. does not directly apply
to the Mexican women of Juárez. However, both MAC campaigns exoticize (dead) Latinas for
the U.S. fashion and cosmetics market. While the MAC-Rodarte collaboration blatantly and
recklessly built upon this tradition, the Selena line is part of the continual acts of remember-
ing and celebrating the iconic performer. These acts are what Deborah Paredez has termed
Selenidad.
      Paredez contends that Selenidad is not just about Selena. Rather, it is also “what it means
to remember her” (xi). She explains that it encompasses the memorial terrain beyond Selena
that provides a space for Latinxs to explore and reimagine their identities in order to survive
present struggles and create future possibilities. Paredez examines the juxtaposition of Sele-
na’s iconic celebrity to anti-Latinx political policy at the turn of the 21st century (xii-xiii). She
describes how factors like the Latino cultural boom, excitement about the 2000 census, and
devastating legislative practices from NAFTA to Proposition 18724 came together through the
afterlife of Selena (15).

23     “As a demographic category, Latinidad describes any person currently living in the United States of
       Spanish-speaking heritage from more than 30 Caribbean and Latin American countries. It is an imag-
       ined community of recent, established and multi-generational immigrants from diverse cultural, lin-
       guistic, racial, and economic backgrounds” (Molina Guzmán and Valdivia 207).
24     Legislation passed in 1994 in California that made undocumented immigrants ineligible for public ben-
       efits. In 1999 it was ruled unconstitutional.

                   27 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

Before she was murdered at age 23 on March 31st, 1995 in Corpus Christi, Texas by Yolanda
Saldívar, the manager of her fan club and boutiques, Selena Quintanilla-Pérez revolutionized
the male-dominated Tejano music scene and successfully crossed over into Latin American
and English-speaking markets. Her music, image, and body are still cultivated today, especial-
ly among Latinx communities, as a source of resistance to traditional beauty standards. From
her bright red lipstick to her self-designed flamboyant clothing, Selena did not resemble her
Tejano cowboy counterparts. Paredez stresses that because U.S. marketing often ignores U.S.
Latinxs for more exotic Latin Americans, it was particularly remarkable that a brown, curvy,
black-haired, and suggestively dressed Chicana rose to such ubiquitous prominence (9-11).
Further,

        Selena resonated with audiences not only in terms of a shared class and regional his-
        tory, but in terms of color: her brown skin and unbleached black hair provided a rare
        and affirming representation of frequently devalued morena (dark) traits in a world
        where most Latin/a American celebrities conformed to Anglo-American standards of
        beauty in hair color and body shape. (Paredez 12)

    For Paredez, Selena embodied a sense of both tragedy and promise that Latinos used as a
way to reflect on their own personal triumphs and challenges25. Paredez points to the 24,000
Latinas who auditioned for the eponymous role in the Selena movie:

        For many of these young women and girls, the act of becoming Selena was not simply
        an exceptional feat undertaken for a special, officially sanctioned occasion, but a quo-
        tidian activity that provided a way for them to inhabit and negotiate the fraught terrain
        of Latina representation in the United States…To become Selena was to become Lati-
        na. (128)

By painting their faces with the MAC Selena makeup, Latinxs embody Selena and, there-
fore, cement their own cultural belonging within U.S. society. It is logical, then, that the MAC
Selena collection celebrates Selena’s fortitude and power. By transcending her tragic murder,
Selena becomes a vector for potential as well. This notion of promise is not commonly as-
sociated with the poor and single working women of Juárez, even though they break similar
patriarchal barriers as Selena. Their makeup line accentuates death and their invisibility as a
group, without showcasing their stories, hopes, dreams, and unique identities.
   Like Paredez, Rachael Anne Greenburg further explores the queer dimension of Selenidad.
She agrees that Selena and her posthumous fame have opened a space of power for Latinxs
and also analyzes the ways in which Selena commodities reinforce Latinx heteronormative
public identity. Greenburg describes how Selenidad is still actively shaping Latinx identity to-
day since Selena has a wax statue at Madame Tussaud’s Hollywood (that also travels to the
yearly celebration of her legacy, Fiesta de la flor, in Corpus Christi) and has a star on the Holly-
wood Walk of Fame, among other achievements (7).

25       Paredez also remarked about how Tejanos were historically perceived as “the backward country cous-
ins” of “authentic” Latinos, which for her made Selena’s popularity among other Latino cultures all the more
intriguing. In her study, she also sought to explore the productive work that grief and memory could stimulate.

                     28 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

Greenburg also asserts that the queer Latinx community use Selena’s music and legacy to
claim cultural citizenship. She explains that Selena’s song El chico del apartamento 512 brought
mourners together at a Gay Pride event in Washington, DC shortly after 49 Latinxs were mas-
sacred on June 12th, 2016 at PULSE nightclub in Orlando, Florida. Greenburg illustrates how
when this “…loss of the queer Latinx nightclub as an untouchable, utopian space and uncen-
sored realm of queer expression26…” occurred, Selena’s music opened an alternative “sacred”
space for the queer Latinx community to dialogue about “the systemic racism and homopho-
bia” that spurred the massacre (17).
     Greenburg further discusses the impact of Selena’s murder at age 23 for Latinx and, es-
pecially, Mexican-American communities. She emphasizes the link between Selena’s fame
and her untimely death that “punctuates the complexity of [her] legacy” which is “dependent
upon an act of violence against the Latina body” (17-18). Greenburg contends that while this
constant reminder of brutality (and the “queer criminal archetype” in her murderer, Yolanda
Saldívar27) undoubtedly complicate Selena’s legacy, her music and memory can still be used to
“create a space of belonging” for queer expression and identity affirmation (18-19). MAC Sele-
na banks on this same assertion of identity through the purchase of cosmetics.

MAC Selena Makeup Collection

   The reaction to MAC’s Selena launch was euphoric. Even the official description is cele-
bratory. It tells the public that consuming Selena will keep her alive:

       The vivacious music and style of Mexican-American singer, Selena Quintanilla, lives
       on through the passion of her fans and her impact on Latin beauty and culture.
       Inspired by the devotion of all those who continue to be touched by the young legend
       20+ years after her untimely passing, M·A·C Selena is a makeup collaboration tenderly
       curated by Selena’s sister. Selena not only taught us to move, she moved us — let’s keep
       that rhythm alive! (“MAC Selena”)

The softening of her death as an “untimely passing” combined with the stress on the tender
curation of the makeup collection demonstrate an intentional pivot from the bodily realities
of Selena’s murder in order to maintain soul integrity and purity of the brand, and, of course,
to sell makeup.
     In a video advertisement, her sister Suzette says that they chose the colors directly from
Selena’s makeup case to represent the “everyday Selena” and “the performer Selena” (“MAC
Selena”). Suzette explains that the image of Selena selected for the packaging “speaks to” the

26     Greenburg states that “Latin night at a queer club is politically significant, precisely because it creates
       a semi-public/private space for those who exist at the intersection of racial, gendered and sexual differ-
       ence. The desecration of this sacred space therefore threatens the very freedom and visibility of multi-
       ply marginalized subjects” (17).
27     Greenburg is concerned with Selenidad’s conflicting messages of Latina/o inclusion and criminalized
       queerness. She demonstrates “how legal and commercial actors in the United States have exploited
       Selena’s death/Saldívar’s murder to maintain the image of the queer criminal archetype in the public
       sphere” (3). While this makes her “a contradictory site of identification for her queer fans,” Greenburg
       also argues that it provides a space for the “…queer[ing] [of ] Selena’s image to disrupt the queer criminal
       archetype” (3).

                    29 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

viewer. Selena’s intense stare, folded arms, leaning back, and black sleeveless shirt contrast-
ed with gold hoop earrings, a gold belt, and bright red lipstick strikes a strong and rebel-
lious tone. This divergence from her Coca-Cola drinking, pizza-eating, girl-next-door image
demonstrates her power as a woman who broke traditional racial, ethnic, and gender barriers
to become an icon. Her gaze can be likened to the iconic image of Ernesto “Che” Guevara de la
Serna that capitalism has immortalized on everything from t-shirts to notebooks. Both images
captivate the viewer through tight lips and deep stares.
    The Quintanilla family premiered the makeup line at Dillard’s in Corpus Christi. It sold
out online almost immediately on October 1st, 2016 and was depleted completely in stores by
October 6th. Due to popular demand it re-launched in stores and online at the end of Decem-
ber 2016 and its Limited Edition run culminated on Jan 31st, 2017. MAC has stated that it is one
of the most sought-after collections in their history. It is currently on display at the Selena
museum in Corpus Christi28.

Twitter Reactions to the MAC Selena Makeup Collection

      Here, I compiled every available tweet for #MACSelena or #SelenaMAC. This resulted
in two themed categories: Satirizing and Identity-forming, where users mocked the product
sale and used it to claim their identities, respectively. First, the satirizing group provided some
humorous memes. One connected MAC’s website crash (due to the immediate overwhelming
influx of Selena orders) with the scene from the Selena movie where Selena and her band had
expected a mere 1,000 fans at a concert in Monterrey, Mexico and 100,000 showed up. Like
Selena y Los Dinos, MAC was “not prepared for a crowd this big!” (@Lucybri83). Many ex-
pressed their frustration with the sold-out line by making comparisons to Selena’s murderer,
Yolanda Saldívar. Some lamented the fact that people were selling the products at a much
higher cost on eBay, while others confessed to buying a mediocre product that they did not
really like because “anything for Selenas,” again referencing the movie (@Robyn32, @aleis-
stupid).
      @alexaregarcia expressed her initial reaction to sellers online named Yolanda with an
image of Selena walking away, looking back, and smiling. Others swore that their frustration
with the sold-out product would turn them into Yolanda (@BaiLale). There were abundant
retweets of a meme depicting a little girl with lipstick smeared all over her face and her moth-
er holding a Selena lipstick that read: “When your daughter thinks she is Selena and you are
about to turn into Yolanda” (Meme). Mentioning Yolanda alludes to the violent act that always
underlies Selena’s memory. The recontextualization of her murder as decorative violence al-
lows the viewer to continue to ignore other stories of gun violence, especially within Latinx
and other minority communities. Gore capitalism also reverberates here since Yolanda (the
endriago subject) ultimately murdered (dystopian practice) Selena (the commodity) as a result
of financial and personal disputes with Abraham Quintanilla, Jr. (the patriarch/“CEO”).
     Within the identity-forming category, Twitter users talked about how the collection made
them take pride in who they are.

28       A second MAC Selena Collection was released in April 2020 to mark the 25th anniversary of her death.
While this analysis focuses on the original 2016 collection, subsequent new and re-releases of the makeup affirm
the ever-growing popularity and demand for consuming Selena.

                     30 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38

@ThinMint23 posted: “In the words of Selena, ‘I feel very proud to be Mexican.’ Another com-
pared it to the highly in-demand Kylie Jenner lip kit, by saying that while white girls were
buying Jenner’s collection, Latinas were turning to the MAC Selena line (@PaolaShanellee).
@Claudia278x referenced the impact that it is so much more than a makeup collection for
Selena fans. Like Selena’s music, they believe that the makeup provides an alternative space
for Latinxs to celebrate their presence in mainstream U.S. culture. @atb_william compared
Selena’s legendary status to celebrities today, recalling that: “Selena died 21 years ago, but has
sold sixty million records, [has] a Grammy, and now has a makeup line.” These Twitter users
saw themselves made visible through MAC Selena because it projected their identities to the
forefront of the beauty industry.
    Other identity-forming tweets created a sense of political community by identifying Selena
consumers as those who should also support Latinx-favorable candidates and policies, and by
criticizing Donald Trump directly. So, while they recognized Latinx representation through
the product line, they were still aware of the limitations to this visibility. For example, one user
wrote: “If you voted for #Trump, you’re not allowed to buy the #Selena line from #MACSele-
na” (@CallMeLo1463). @RussellFalcon tweeted an image of Trump’s inauguration with: “I
saw more people at the mall when MAC released the new Selena lipsticks.” This perceived
political solidarity among Selena makeup consumers is related to Greenburg’s description
of the mourners after the PULSE nightclub massacre coming together through Selenidad to
denounce racism and homophobia. Thus, even though Selena’s murder is erased, Latinx com-
munities can claim her memory as a cry for the political and social visibility that Hispanic
marketing has not materialized on its own. At the same time, it is vital to recognize that the ba-
nalization and depoliticization of Selena’s murder and murderer foster a society desensitized
to violence and prone to the dystopic practices of gore capitalism.
       Stemming from the fields of anthropology, sociology, and cultural studies, body stud-
ies “…addresses how we as individuals and as societies, deal with, represent, and understand
bodies” (DeMello XVI). Susan Bordo’s seminal book in the field, Unbearable Weight: Feminism,
Western Culture, and the Body (1993) helps us formulate a deeper bodily distinction behind the
reactions to both MAC campaigns. Although, Bordo specifically considers the eating-disor-
dered body and hunger as ideology, her notion of mind-body dualism applies to this analysis.
She describes how, historically, the body has been constructed as that which is apart from the
true self (“soul, mind, spirit, will, creativity, freedom, etc.”) and as that which actively under-
mines “the best efforts of that self.” In other words, “that which is not body is the highest, the
best, the noblest, the closest to God” (5). Bordo contends that the weight and limitations of
the flesh are typically attributed to the feminine, while uncontaminated humanness belongs
to males (5). Adam Locks and Niall Richardson agree that women are “…identified simply as
their bodies,” while masculinity represents “intellect and reason” (X).
    While both makeup collections reinforce the female body as limited and in need of correc-
tion and enhancement, by virtue of their intended consumer, each approaches their subjects
differently. Selena’s makeup disassociates her body from death and reflects her life and liveli-
ness. The Juárez collection exemplifies the corporeal fragility of the murdered women in the
desert without providing a context through which to remember their individuality respect-
fully. Selena, and by extension, Selenidad, have transcended death. The color palette and aes-
thetic designed for the Juárez victims act as ghastly reminders of human corporeal limitations
and therefore further distance people from the noble or spiritual realm to which Bordo refers.

                   31 - Hispanic Studies Review - Vol. 5, No. 2 (2021): 17-38