Would it be insanely unfashionable to defend Sydney Sweeney? You may or may not have heard that the Euphoria star has done an ad for a sports betting site. Sorry, I think we still have to call them “sports prediction markets” in the United States, which only recently popped its legalised sports betting cherry, and is behaving like a complete teenage boy about the whole thing. Anyway, among other poses, the ad features a naked Sydney holding a couple of American footballs over her breasts, which are – and I feel she would want us to acknowledge this – seriously among the very best in Hollywood. Maybe THE best. Listen, it is what it is. Life would be very boring if we couldn’t say so with a twinkle.
Forgive me. Life is, in fact, very, very boring, because yet another Sydney Sweeney-advertising-centred firestorm has been ignited by this ad. (Last year, some lunatic genuinely suggested her “good jeans” American Eagle ad was something to do with white supremacy and eugenics.) Her latest product endorsement has drawn the ire of a cascade of female athletes, who have described it variously as demeaning women’s sport, sexualised representation of athletes, and “a kick in the face to every woman who has dedicated her life to perfecting her craft, [and] every woman who enjoys sports for what it really is – teamwork, friendship, dedication, excellence, unity”.
Come on. With respect, I just don’t think it’s a kick in the face for any of those things. Not to be a crazed optimist, but the great thing about where women’s sport has got to today is that it feels a whole lot bigger and stronger and more compelling than whether Sydney Sweeney did or didn’t get her tits out for a gambling ad. I can’t help feeling it would have been cooler for women’s sport to simply not even mention the naked gambling ad at all. And, if it had to, maybe focus on the gambling bit rather than the woman advertising it. I haven’t definitively run the numbers on this, but instinct tells me that gambling wrecks a lot more lives than Sydney Sweeney.
Honestly, not everyone has to be the same and on-message, and I could not be more convinced that Sweeney adds to the gaiety of the nations. I love it that she’s out there in the culture, pissing off reflexively judgmental people who ignore so many bigger issues but have really strong views on sexy ad campaigns. And even slightly sexist ones. I truly loved it when, after one controversy or another a couple of years ago, Sydney posted a picture of herself in a sweatshirt reading: “SORRY FOR HAVING GREAT TITS AND CORRECT OPINIONS”. (Would also like to know where you buy this sweatshirt, etc.)
That she has emerged as such a frequent culture wars punching bag says so much more about the predictable, playable nature of her serial detractors than it does about her. Why can’t they just face it – Sydney’s gonna Sweeney. None of it feels like that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.
Or rather, it does to some. After another ad campaign last year, some fashion analyst gasped to the New York Times: “It seems like she’s not embarrassed or ashamed promoting all of these different projects.” Hmm. Always great to see women implying other women should be feeling shame for hideous crimes like being a face of both Miu Miu AND Armani Beauty. The previous year, a columnist had described Sydney as “problematic yet unashamed”, which, ironically, I found somewhat problematic. Have to say, I’m a big fan of women not being made to feel shame unless whatever they’ve done is really quite bad.
Indeed, it was after a veteran female producer and film studies professor publicly dismissed her as not pretty and bad at acting that Sweeney gave a reactive interview in which she observed of Hollywood: “This entire industry, all people say is ‘women empowering other women’. None of it’s happening. All of it is fake and a front for all the other shit that they say behind everyone’s back.” Amazing. Because where’s the lie? Inevitably, it was her who got branded unsisterly for saying it.
A few months later, non-insult was added to non-injury once it emerged that Sydney was dating the considerably older former Taylor Swift foe/Justin Bieber manager Scooter Braun, who’s a sort of music industry vampire but not in a hot way. I saw someone who obviously fancied Sweeney lamenting this romance as “like a 19-year-old wonderkid signing for Al-Nassr”, which is a fun joke and about the level of seriousness with which we should treat other people’s dating choices. Don’t worry about it, guys! It’s not like you have to have sex with Scooter Braun. She’s doing it for you – relax.
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Ultimately, I always feel somewhat compelled to defend Sydney’s right to do whatever stupid things she feels like in her twenties, safe – if not sound – in the knowledge that she will be forced to spend her entire thirties and probably her entire forties atoning for every single one of them in every single interview, where every single reporter will just really want her to express shame and/or personal growth. It’s all such an endlessly dreary bore. There must be less repressed and joyless things to do with our time. While we spend far too long figuring those out, I do hope Sweeney finds a way to continue apparently not giving a shit – and that everyone else considers they might have more fun if they took a leaf out of her book from time to time.
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Marina Hyde is a Guardian columnist
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