Framing Protest: A Stuart Hall Reading of CNN’s EndSARS Coverage

 

When I watched CNN's report about the EndSARS protests in Nigeria, it really made me think about how complicated it can be to understand what's really going on when you're getting your information from the media. It seemed like there were so many different angles to consider, and it wasn't as simple as just saying "CNN told the truth" or "CNN is lying." Looking at the video using Stuart Hall's encoding/decoding model, it really helps to break down what was happening. Basically, Hall said that media messages aren't just consumed passively but are actively interpreted by audiences who bring their own experiences and beliefs to the table. So, digging deeper, we can see how that played out with the CNN report in a negotiated reading.

Before CNN even started working on this report, what was already happening on the ground? Well, the EndSARS protests were huge in Nigeria, with young people taking to the streets to demand an end to police brutality and corruption. They were using social media to organize and share information, and a lot of the world was watching in real-time. So, by the time CNN got involved, there was already a lot of information and a lot of emotions swirling around. It's not like they were starting from scratch. I think there was a certain power in seeing all these kids come together to protest with the common goal in mind. This gave them a higher power than other protests or situations, and the fact it didn't work is sadder than ever.

Seeing how CNN was actually "encoding" its message you may ask what were the key places they were using to try and shape the viewer's understanding of what happened? Well, the report definitely emphasized the violence that took place at Lekki Toll Gate, showing footage of the shooting and interviewing survivors who described what they saw. The language they used was also pretty strong, talking about a "massacre" and accusing the Nigerian military of firing on unarmed protesters. All these elements were designed to create a sense of outrage and to make viewers believe that the Nigerian government was guilty of serious human rights abuses. You can even call them inhuman rights abuses!

But then, I had to remember that not everyone is going to see that report the same way. Stuart Hall said that audiences are active, not passive. They bring their own experiences, beliefs, and ideologies to the table, and that affects how they interpret the message. So, I started thinking about the different groups of people in Nigeria who might have different perspectives on the CNN report. It's definitely not "one" fits all. Here's who I came up with: The Younger People from the Lower Class, the people who are politically involved, and the people who just want to watch from the sides. The Younger People from the Lower Class might have viewed the CNN report as not surprising, since they are dealing with it every day, and might even appreciate that the CNN shed a light on this story. However, there might even feel nothing as some of the members feel too numb to even deal with this situation, There is only one side that they want to be on, and they are sick of seeing the in-fighting from the news, so they don't even know what to believe. There is no time for nuance, and all that they wish is the time to live normally.

The Politically Involved people may find CNN's report as an attack on their pride, and national identity, since they want to uphold the status quo. This may impact their ability to think "neutrally' and they are only for supporting the country. In their mind, this makes sense as they are more traditional than the younger group. Their mindset may not be able to change. It makes you wonder about what their purpose is, what motivates these people. What is in it for them, at the end? It almost feels greedy. The Watchers, and honestly every other group, are not always just so one thing, I think the people are more complicated. Many people are usually so many things that can make it hard to define them as "just this". It is hard. But, their negotiated view on all these things can be that it makes everything better. At the end of the day, they still want to enjoy and get through the day. Their own beliefs. They like to think that everything will just work out.

Even though CNN is trying to shed light on what's going on, whose voice are we really hearing the loudest? It is still CNN. What Does CNN do, but just let people see the story through a western point of view, they are kind of the main "character" in the end. Even though they are the "reporter" on site and everything. Because of all this, it is hard for people to care and think about this, as there is so many different things and messages that the world shows, every day. We can try and see how a group of people would think about something. But we will really never know how they feel as there are more people than it may seem. The power that the West has should always be a question, not the rule.

 

 

Power in Pixels: A Formal Analysis of Peter Obi’s Presidential Campaign Poster

 

Political posters have a huge impact. They use images, colors, and words to shape our view of candidates. Peter Obi's campaign poster during Nigeria's 2023 elections, at first, it doesn’t seem like anything special, just a picture of him and his name. But then if you think about it, you will realize that even something as simple as a poster can be really powerful. It can tell you a lot about what the person is trying to say, even without using a lot of words. With strong support from young and first-time voters, the poster helped create an image of Obi as someone new, reliable, and relatable. This review explores Obi's poster, examining how its color, text style, image layout, and symbols work together to convey messages about leadership and unity.

One of the first things I noticed was how clean and simple the poster looks. The background is plain, the layout is neat, and everything just feels very organized. And then I thought, maybe that's on purpose! In Nigeria, politics can often seem pretty chaotic and messy, with a lot of corruption and confusion. So, maybe this clean design is trying to send a message: "Hey, this is something different. This is a campaign that's honest and organized." The clear background suggests that things are transparent and not hidden. It creates an illusion that Peter Obi has things together and a leader who can create that stability. It's like the poster is trying to show that Peter Obi is not just clean in how he looks but also clean in how he acts. It's like saying, "He's a trustworthy guy who's not going to get involved in any shady deals." It is all just a suggestion

The use of color in Peter Obi’s campaign poster is really important. The poster mainly uses green, white, and red, and each color has meaning. Green and white are Nigeria’s national colors, making the poster feel patriotic, as if it's telling people, “This candidate is all about Nigeria.” Red is also there, especially in the Labour Party logo. Red often shows energy, action, and passion, giving the campaign a sense of urgency and making Peter Obi stand out as someone ready for change. These colors are more than just decoration. They combine calm (green), peace (white), and power (red), matching Obi’s image as a calm but strong leader, building trust with voters. Another thing I noticed was how simple the poster is. There aren't any fancy graphics or dramatic lighting or anything like that. It's just a straightforward picture of Peter Obi. That made me think that maybe he's trying to come across as down-to-earth and serious, not trying to entertain people or be flashy, but just trying to show that he's ready to get to work. These minimal things are all that is required to show his message. The fact that the colors match the Nigerian flag connects the message to the national identity. It makes you feel that Peter Obi is one for the people, as he displays what it means to be part of Nigeria. You almost can't not feel as if you're a proud Nigeria.

Typography is about the text's style and size. In Obi’s poster, the fonts are clean, bold, and easy to read. His name, “Peter Obi” is usually in capital letters to stand out, often showing strength and seriousness. The slogan is simple and direct, often saying something like “Vote for Competence and Integrity.” These are powerful words that show Obi’s campaign wants people to focus on his good qualities. The font style is modern and sharp, making him look like a leader who knows about today’s problems. A neat and professional font also makes the campaign seem organized because bad fonts can make a poster look untrustworthy. The typography helps build Obi’s image as clean, competent, and reliable. All these little design choices, the clean background, the simple fonts, the straightforward picture they all add up to create a bigger message about who Peter Obi is and what he stands for. It's like the poster is building a picture of him as a trustworthy, competent, and honest leader, even without him having to give a long speech.

The way Peter Obi is placed in the poster also tells us a lot. His face is usually large and centered. He wears simple clothes, like a traditional black outfit and glasses, with a slight smile or serious look, showing his pride in his Nigerian identity and not trying to impress with fancy clothes. With his image centered, he becomes the focus without any distractions. This invites people to connect with his face and impression, making him seem honest, accessible, and transparent. There are no distractions. It invites the viewer to connect with his face and expression directly. He is not shown with a crowd or with symbols of wealth, just himself, clean and clear. This gives the impression that he is honest, accessible, and has nothing to hide. This layout makes people trust him, as if saying, “Look at me closely. Decide for yourself.” That kind of visual honesty works well, especially in Nigeria, where people are tired of leaders who are dishonest. The poster has more meanings than just what we see. For example, the Labour Party’s logo, a wheel with a family inside, is often in the corner, symbolizing the working class, unity, and family values. It shows that the campaign is for ordinary Nigerians, not just the rich and powerful."

So, even though it might look simple at first, Peter Obi's campaign poster is actually a really smart piece of visual communication. It's using design to build trust, create hope, and connect with voters, especially young Nigerians. It's not just about looking nice; it's about showing leadership through design. It really is more than it seems. The design shapes the public opinion.

Class on Display: A Marxist Critique of Chief Daddy

 

The Nigerian film Chief Daddy, released in 2018 and produced by EbonyLife Films, is full of drama, family fights, and funny scenes. It tells the story of what happens when a very rich man, Chief Beecroft, dies and his large extended family starts arguing over who should inherit his money and properties. At first glance, the film seems like simple entertainment. But when we look at it through Marxist theory, we start to see how the movie hides important truths about money, power, and the people who do the real work behind the scenes. This critique uses Marxist ideas to look at how Chief Daddy shows class, labor, wealth, and inequality in Nigeria.

One thing that kept bugging me was how the movie treated the workers. You know, the domestic workers, the drivers, the cooks, all the people who help those rich families live their fancy lives. They're just kind of there, in the background, with hardly any lines or personalities. They're like props, not real people. They're basically just used to help make the rich characters seem even richer and more important because they justify what they have. This kind of thing, where you make the rich the main focus and turn everyone else into background noise, is a big part of what Marxist theory talks about. It's about how the system makes it seem like it's just natural and normal for some people to be super-rich, while others are stuck doing all the work and not getting any of the credit or attention. It turns rich people into main characters and working people into scenery. It is so weird. So, what's the main message that "Chief Daddy" is sending? It's basically this idea that wealth is glamorous and desirable, even if it's not shared equally. It seems that, in this world, life goal is to get a piece of the pie. That's the underlying ideology of the movie. It says that as long as you can get your hands on some money, you're doing okay. That is not okay.

The movie kind of romanticizes all the fighting and scheming over the inheritance. You've got mistresses, secret children, even the Chief's personal assistant, all demanding their share of the money. This is weird. But instead of saying that maybe wealth shouldn't be hoarded in the first place, the movie just accepts that this is how things are, and it's all about getting your piece of the action, no matter what it takes. This almost seems to legitimize capitalist values. It's like if you're clever enough or charming enough, you deserve to be rich, even if it means stepping on other people to get there. What's really missing is any kind of alternative. The movie doesn't even hint at the idea that there might be other ways to live, other ways to share wealth, or other things to value besides money. It just celebrates the system that creates these huge class divides in the first place. This reinforces bad and old habits and ideas.

The movie does have some moments that make you think, even if it's just for a second. For example, the scene where they're reading the will, and everyone's throwing a fit and acting completely funny It's like the movie is briefly showing you how absurd the whole inheritance thing is, and how it can turn families against each other over money. Thank God it is not this crazy. And characters like the social media influencer, Ireti, with her outfits and her constant need to show off? The movie is making fun of her, but it's also revealing how fake and insecure a lot of that "wealth" and "class" can be. It shows elite identities as unstable. But the thing is, these moments of critique never really lead anywhere. The movie always seems to brush them off, like it's just a few personal problems within a system that's basically working fine. It's like the humor is being used to distract us from the bigger questions, like, "Is it really okay for a few people to have so much money while so many others have so little?" Marxist theory would say that all this humor acts as a pacifier, keeping people happy and quiet so they don't start thinking too hard about whether the whole system is actually fair or not. The movie kind of hints at problems, but never makes a big deal of them. This is where the Marxist stuff gets really interesting. One of the main things Marx talked about was how the ruling classes, the people with all the money and power, stay in power. And "Chief Daddy" actually shows this pretty well, even if it doesn't mean to. The whole movie is about who's going to inherit Chief Beecroft's money after he dies. It's not about how he made the money in the first place, or whether that was fair; it's just about who gets to keep it now.

That shows how important family structures are for keeping wealth in the hands of a few. The Beecroft family isn't just a family; it's like a mini-corporation that's designed to pass down money and power from one generation to the next. The way they control the inheritance, the legal stuff, and all the property makes sure that the wealth stays within their circle, no matter what. From a Marxist perspective, this shows how the system is rigged to favor the rich, regardless of whether they actually deserve it. All that drama about the will is also really telling. The characters aren't just fighting over money; they're fighting over power. The will becomes this super-important document that determines who gets to control all the assets, who gets to have social influence, who gets to be important. It shows how wealth isn't just about having nice things; it's about controlling society.  The fight over Chief Daddy's fortune isn't just a family quarrel; it's like a small-scale version of the bigger class struggles that Marx was talking about. It's about who gets to control the resources and who gets left behind. It’s just the same situation with a new font and paper.

"Chief Daddy" might seem like just a light-hearted family comedy, but it's actually reflecting and even shaping the way people think about class and inequality in Nigeria. A Marxist critique helps us see all the ways the movie is reinforcing the system, even without trying to. It hides the labor that creates wealth, it makes people worship fancy things, it only shows us the lives of the rich, and it brushes off any serious critique with a joke. Gramsci's idea of "consent" is also very relevant . By making wealth and privilege seem so desirable and entertaining, "Chief Daddy" is helping to create consent for the system. People might watch the movie and think, "Wow, it would be so great to be rich," without ever questioning whether that wealth is actually fair or just. The movie makes you watch the news, and not even think about the underlying things, just the action. Most people probably aren't going to leave the movie theater thinking about Marxism, but that doesn't mean the movie isn't having an impact. It's subtly shaping their understanding of wealth, poverty, and social value. By making the elite lifestyle seem so appealing and not showing all the hard work and exploitation that makes it possible, "Chief Daddy" is ultimately serving as a kind of comedic mirror, reflecting Nigeria's deeply unequal class reality.

 

 

Who Owns Her Image? Male Gaze vs. Oppositional Gaze in Tiwa Savage’s ‘Koroba’

 

 

I was intrigued while I was watching Tiwa Savage's "Koroba" video. The colors, the outfits, and the whole vibe is very captivating. But then, after the initial "wow" factor, I started to think about something deeper, who gets to decide how we see her? It felt like a lot was going on beneath the surface, you know? Is she being presented in a way that's supposed to be sexy and appealing, or is something more powerful happening?

Looking at this video from these two amazing thinkers we've been learning about, Laura Mulvey and Bell hooks. They have these exciting ideas about how we look at images, especially of women. Mulvey talks about the "male gaze," which is basically, it's about how women are often shown through a man's perspective. And hooks talk about the "oppositional gaze," which is like a way of pushing back against that, especially for Black women who haven't always had control over their image. So, I will be using these two lenses to unpack what's going on in Tiwa Savage’s song "Koroba."? It might give a completely different understanding of who's really in control and what messages the video is really sending about women's image, so it's more than just the music video. It can go further than that. It is an understanding."

From the opening scenes, Tiwa Savage is presented in a highly self-aware manner, engaging in deliberate posing and projecting an image of glamour. This immediately evokes Laura Mulvey's concept of the "male gaze." Mulvey argued that in traditional cinematic representations, women are often depicted according to male desires, essentially becoming objects of visual consumption. The initial presentation of Tiwa Savage in this video seems to align with that perspective, suggesting a potential framing of the artist primarily as a visual object, raising questions about her agency in controlling her own image. Her image is not in question, but its purpose may be, so it causes a lot of questioning about what the purpose of this image is.

Mulvey has a term, "to-be-looked-at-ness," which basically means the woman is there to be looked at. In "Koroba," you see it in the close-ups of Tiwa's legs, her waist, her lips. It's like the camera is zooming in on the parts that are considered "sexy," and framing them in a way that's supposed to be appealing. It kind of feels like the camera is a dude, checking her out. The camera seems to have a mind of its own and is checking her out.

It's like the camera becomes this invisible guy who's just focused on her hotness more than anything else. She's moving with confidence, but it seems like the camera's more interested in her sexuality than her actually singing or telling the story of the song. It makes you wonder, is she in charge of her own image, or is she just a spectacle for someone else's enjoyment? Her body is what makes her the spectacle, nothing else, so it almost seems she is a robot.

But then, I started thinking, "Wait a minute, is it really that simple?" Because Tiwa is also staring right back at the camera. And that's where bell hooks comes in. Hooks talks about this thing called the "oppositional gaze," which is like a comeback, especially for Black women who haven't always had the power to control how they're seen. It almost seems as if we have more insight when she's looking back at the camera.

Bell hooks basically said that Black women haven't always been allowed to look at things, or to have their own opinions. So, when they do look back, it's a way of taking power. In "Koroba," Tiwa Savage stares right into the camera, like she's challenging you. She's not just being looked at, she's looking back, and it's like she's daring you to underestimate her. It felt like she was trying to seduce me at that point, or the viewer.

And it's not just her gaze; it's her outfits too. Some people might say her outfits are just about being sexy, but I think they're more than that. They're like a kind of "cultural armor," like she's taking back control of her own body and sexuality. It's like she's saying, "I can be sexy and powerful, and it's my choice." The sexy outfits can symbolize her power as an artist. The outfits and the way she presents herself aren't just about seduction; they're about class, power, and making herself visible in a political way. She's singing about how people in Nigeria are quick to judge others about money and morality, and her lyrics are actually a little bit rebellious. So, it's not just about looking good, it's about making a statement.

There's this really interesting tension going on, on the one hand, it feels like her body and her image are being used, maybe even exploited, to sell the song and grab attention. But on the other hand, she's also clearly using her voice, her lyrics, and her own carefully constructed image to say something that actually matters. It's like this constant push-and-pull, this back-and-forth that makes you think of both Mulvey and hooks. It's this struggle between potentially being objectified, just a pretty face to look at  , and actively taking back control of that narrative, flipping the script, and making her own statement.

For Black female viewers, especially, Tiwa's boldness might be more empowering than just erotic. She's showing that you can be glam and sexy, but also strong and independent. She represents this contradiction: she's a "glamorized object" but also a "powerful narrator" of her own story.

In the end, you can't really understand "Koroba" without using both of these ideas. Mulvey helps us see how women's bodies are used to sell stuff. But hooks helps us see how Black women like Tiwa are pushing back against that, using their voices, their looks, and their power to challenge the way they're seen. It's like she might not totally escape the male gaze, but she's definitely confronting it, making it more complicated, and maybe even taking it back in her own way. She's owning the image as a powerful artist.

Beyond the Cheer: GLO's Intersectional Blind Spot

 

Viewing the "Feliz Navidad GLO" ad through bell hooks’s intersectional lens doesn't just reveal a festive scene; it exposes a far more complex and problematic narrative, almost like peeling back layers of an onion. It shows how the ad, perhaps unintentionally, reinforces interlocking systems of oppression rooted in race, class, and gender, which ultimately perpetuates a limited and ultimately exclusionary vision of what beauty, success, and even happiness looks like.

One of the most immediate issues is that the ad seems to confine "womanhood" to a very narrow box. When you look at the women presented, they largely conform to what mainstream media often portrays as "ideal", they're slim, conventionally attractive by Western standards, and tend to have lighter skin tones. This isn't just a random observation; it sends a message, even if subconsciously, that only certain types of women are valued and worthy of celebration. This instantly marginalizes women of color who might not fit this narrow mold, women with diverse body types that challenge these rigid ideals, and basically anyone who deviates from these conventional beauty norms. This exclusivity, sadly, is a key ingredient in reinforcing the very systems of oppression hooks fought against.

It's not just about who's in the picture, it's also about what the picture says. The ad leans heavily into a consumerist ideal, almost whispering that happiness and fulfillment can be bought, specifically, by purchasing the GLO device and embracing a glamorous, over-the-top festive lifestyle. This is where bell hooks’s concerns about capitalist ideology come into play. The ad prioritizes consumption above everything else, subtly pushing aside values like community, social justice, genuine human connection, or even simply appreciating what you already have. It subtly suggests that if you just buy this product, you too can unlock this idealized version of joy and celebration, which is a problematic simplification of human experience, to say the least, and a way of reinforcing the capitalist machine

Adding to this already thorny situation, there's a subtle but undeniable undercurrent of traditional gender roles at play. Take a closer look, and you might notice that the women often seem to be primarily "in service" of the men in the ad. This isn't necessarily a blatant act of oppression, but it subtly reinforces a patriarchal view, almost as if the women's happiness and satisfaction are mainly centered around creating the "perfect" Christmas atmosphere for the men. It's that old, tired "happy wife, happy life" mentality bubbling beneath the surface, hinting that a woman's worth is tied to her ability to cater to male needs and desires.

 

What makes this portrayal even more difficult to stomach is the way the ad glosses over the very real struggles and challenges that many individuals and communities face, especially during the holiday season. Instead, we're presented with a sanitized and idealized version of Christmas, completely ignoring crucial issues like poverty, rampant inequality, and social injustice. This isn't just a harmless oversight; it perpetuates a false narrative, one that reinforces the privilege of those who can easily afford to participate in this consumerist fantasy, while simultaneously overlooking the difficult experiences of countless others who are marginalized and actively excluded from this "celebration." Think about those who are struggling to put food on the table, those battling chronic illnesses, or those simply feeling alone and isolated during the holidays,their stories are nowhere to be seen

Finally, the ad's lack of genuine authenticity and its general failure to engage with any relevant social issues further underscore its problematic nature. Instead of acknowledging the complex realities of race, class, and gender, realities that directly impact people's lives, it opts for a shallow and superficial portrayal of festive cheer. By ignoring these crucial conversations, the ad sadly reinforces the notion that these issues are either unimportant or simply irrelevant, which perpetuates a system of oppression that effectively silences marginalized voices and completely ignores their lived experiences. In an era where consumers are increasingly expecting brands to take a stand on social issues and be more than just profit-driven entities, the ad's silence is deafening and deeply disappointing. This ultimately allows hooks’s powerful point to come to light: the unsettling notion of subtle women's objectification and the problematic reinforcing of a long-outdated patriarchal view.

So, from bell hooks's insightful perspective, the "Feliz Navidad GLO" ad is far from a simple, feel-good celebration of Christmas. Instead, it's a somewhat troubling example of how media can unknowingly reinforce interlocking systems of oppression based on factors like race, class, and gender. It perpetuates a limited, ultimately exclusionary vision of what constitutes beauty, success, and genuine happiness, and it sadly fails to engage in any meaningful way with the complex, often difficult realities of a diverse and socially conscious world. In short, it's a far cry from showcasing a progressive, feminist point of view; instead, it subtly clings to outdated views about who gets to be seen, heard, and celebrated.

Behind the Festive Cheer: A Mulveyian Look at GLO

 

The "Feliz Navidad GLO" ad, while seemingly festive and focused on a joyous celebration, subtly perpetuates Laura Mulvey's concept of the male gaze by positioning women as objects of visual pleasure, lacking agency, and primarily existing for the enjoyment of a presumed male spectator.

Firstly, the ad's presentation of the female characters aligns with Mulvey's description of "to-be-looked-at-ness." The women, predominantly seen enjoying the Christmas festivities, are often framed in visually appealing ways. The camera frequently lingers on their physical attributes, their smiles, their hair, their bodies moving in rhythm with the music, rather than exploring their personalities or motivations. Take, for example, the shot where the camera focuses on a woman laughing and dancing, her movements highlighted by the festive lights. While the intention might be to convey joy, the focus remains on her physical performance, turning her into a spectacle for the viewer's consumption. This visual emphasis on the women's physical presence reduces them to objects intended to be admired rather than subjects with their desires and perspectives.

The roles assigned to women in the ad reinforce their passivity. Women are shown smiling, dancing, and laughing, but their actions rarely initiate the narrative. Men are more likely to lead interactions, offer gifts, or direct group activities. In scenes where a male and female character interact, the male often takes the dominant role, whether it’s initiating a toast, leading a dance, or guiding the camera's attention. The women, in contrast, respond rather than act. This imbalance reflects Mulvey's idea that women in media are positioned to be looked at and reacted to, not to influence or control the story.

Another critical aspect of Mulvey’s theory is how the camera becomes a surrogate for the male viewer’s gaze. In the Glo advertisement, this is especially evident in the way certain shots are composed. Slow pans across female bodies, zoom-ins on facial expressions or physical curves, and editing techniques that isolate women visually, even when they are part of a crowd, serve to emphasize their role as objects of beauty. These shots are rarely balanced by similar portrayals of men, reinforcing the one-sided nature of the gaze.

Secondly, the ad often employs elements of voyeurism, subtly positioning the viewer in a position of power. Several scenes feature quick, fleeting glimpses of the women, creating a sense that the viewer is intruding on a private moment. For instance, a shot of a woman opening a present, her face lit with excitement, is followed by a quick cut to another scene. This fleeting view reinforces the idea that the viewer is a passive observer, passively consuming the women's images without truly engaging with their experiences. This voyeuristic tendency undermines the women’s agency, turning them into passive objects observed and enjoyed from a distance.

Further supporting this argument is the noticeable absence of clear narratives or backstories for the female characters. We rarely, if ever, hear them speak or get a sense of their personalities. The women are defined more by their physical appearance and their ability to contribute to the festive atmosphere than by their inner thoughts or motivations. They function more as aesthetic components within the Christmas tableau, fulfilling a visually pleasing role rather than acting as independent agents with their desires and aspirations. In one particular scene where they are giving a gift to the man, it showcases the joy, but it is more about what they’re doing than how the feeling may feels.

Moreover, even the moments where the product itself is featured, the GLO device, can be seen through the lens of the male gaze. The sleek design of the device, often presented in conjunction with the woman, is meant to evoke a sense of sophistication. The implied message is that by using GLO, the male viewer can associate himself with the beauty and desirability of the women in the ad. The GLO device is not just a product; it’s a symbol of access to a world of visually appealing women, reinforcing the objectification inherent in the male gaze.

 

Therefore, despite its emphasis on community and its overall focus on festive cheer, the "Feliz Navidad GLO" ad ultimately contributes to the often subtle perpetuation of the male gaze. It deliberately prioritizes the visual appeal of its carefully crafted female characters, subtly reducing them to objects of passive consumption and thus undermining their potential agency within the presented narrative. Ultimately, it reinforces subtly imbedded patriarchal structures that often continue to unconsciously position women as primarily existing for the carefully curated pleasure of the presumed male spectator.

Whose Harlem Is It? Gucci's Dominant Narrative

Communication is more than the simple act of sending and receiving information; it involves encoding meanings by the sender and decoding those meanings by the receiver. Media texts, such as advertisements and promotional videos, are powerful tools that communicate cultural, political, and economic values. The Gucci x Dapper Dan (BTS) video titled “Made in Harlem” serves as a case study for understanding how fashion, identity, and media intersect in communication. I will be critically analyzing this advertisement video using Stuart Hall’s Encoding and Decoding model. The focus will be on the dominant reading, which is the preferred way the video's producers want the audience to interpret it. The aim is to explain how Gucci and Dapper Dan use visual and symbolic communication to send a message of respect, recognition, and cultural inclusion. Stuart Hall, a leading figure in cultural studies, proposed that communication is not a straight path from sender to receiver. Instead, it is a process where the sender encodes the message with certain meanings and the receiver decodes it, who may interpret it differently based on their background, cultural beliefs, and experiences. Stuart Hall identified three major ways messages can be decoded, which are the dominant reading, where the audience accepts the intended message without questioning it then the negotiated reading where the audience partly agrees but also interprets the message in their way and finally the oppositional reading where the audience rejects the intended message and interprets it differently. In the analysis of this video, I will focus on the dominant reading, where the audience receives and accepts the message encoded by Gucci and Dapper Dan as truthful, positive, and sincere, not in a way that the audience might perceive it, but solely on what message the advertisement intended to convey.

The Gucci x Dapper Dan video is a promotional behind-the-scenes shoot for Numero Homme magazine. The campaign was shot in Harlem, New York, and it highlights Dapper Dan, a legendary African American designer who gained fame in the 1980s for creating custom pieces using luxury brand logos, often without permission. In 2017, Gucci was accused of copying one of Dapper Dan’s designs. The backlash led to this collaboration, where Gucci officially partnered with him to produce authentic designs and open a store in Harlem. The video features shots of Harlem’s streets, barbershops, locals, and Dapper Dan himself. It is set to upbeat music and shows models wearing bold outfits that combine street style and high fashion. The tone is celebratory and respectful, aiming to highlight Harlem’s influence on global fashion and give recognition to Dapper Dan’s legacy. Harlem's setting is intentional, rooted in its profound significance within African American culture, particularly during the Harlem Renaissance, a period marked by exceptional Black artistry and cultural flourishing. By choosing to film in Harlem, Gucci aims to connect its brand with the deep wealth of Black creativity. Dapper Dan’s presence in the video is central. He is shown not just as a designer but as a legend, a symbol of resilience, and a representative of Harlem’s contribution to fashion. Gucci encodes the message that Dapper Dan is no longer being copied or disrespected; he is now a full collaborator, and his genius is finally being recognized. The clothes in the video combine traditional luxury elements (such as velvet, embroidery, and logos) with features of streetwear (like oversized jackets and bold prints). This visual style encodes the message that Black urban fashion is not separate from luxury, it is part of it. Gucci is sending the message that street style deserves to be on the same level as European fashion. While the video does not directly mention the 2017 controversy, it subtly encodes a message of apology and growth. By featuring Dapper Dan, celebrating Harlem, and promoting Black models and creatives, Gucci is showing that it is learning from its past and becoming more inclusive.

From the dominant reading perspective, the Gucci x Dapper Dan collaboration video is designed to present Gucci as a progressive, inclusive, and culturally aware brand. The audience is meant to view Gucci’s actions as a sincere attempt to honour Black creativity and to make up for previous acts of cultural appropriation. The collaboration is positioned not as a marketing strategy but as a deliberate move toward embracing diversity. In the context of media and cultural studies, especially from the lens of TSC, this video can be seen as Gucci’s way of aligning itself with the values of justice, equity, and representation. The visuals, location, and use of real Harlem residents contribute to a carefully encoded message that suggests Gucci is no longer just a European fashion house for the elite but a global brand that listens, learns, and respects marginalized voices. To a dominant viewer, the message is clear, Gucci is now on the right path, and its effort should be applauded.

Furthermore, the dominant decoding encourages viewers to see Dapper Dan as a hero who is finally receiving the recognition he deserves. For years, Dapper Dan was sidelined by the mainstream fashion world despite his huge influence, especially in Black communities across America. He used fashion as a form of resistance and expression, even when luxury brands did not acknowledge his work. Now, Gucci has made him a partner, and the video showcases him as a respected creative figure. This representation is intentional, encoding the message that Black excellence is valid and can no longer be ignored. Dapper Dan’s story reflects a broader narrative of how people from underrepresented communities can reclaim their stories and be celebrated. The dominant reading positions him not as a victim but as a legend whose time has finally come, encouraging viewers to share in that joy and pride. Also, the setting of Harlem in the video is not random; it is a deliberate symbolic choice. Dominant reading helps us see that Harlem is being presented not as a poor or forgotten area, but as a place of style, culture, and global influence. Gucci encodes Harlem as a cultural capital, full of pride and historical significance. The shots of barbershops, the streets, and everyday people highlight Harlem’s authenticity. To a Nigerian audience familiar with neighborhood pride, this can be compared to how places like Surulere or Mushin are rich in cultural expression, even if they are often underrated. So, the viewer is expected to see Harlem not as a backdrop, but as a major contributor to fashion. The dominant reading helps us understand that Harlem is being positioned as a birthplace of global fashion trends, meaning the center of style is no longer just Paris or Milan, but also Black communities like Harlem that have shaped fashion from the roots.

Finally, from the dominant perspective, fashion itself is shown as a powerful tool for social justice and transformation. The Gucci x Dapper Dan partnership is encoded as more than just aestheticism is a step toward healing, dialogue, and progress. The message is that fashion can be used to correct the mistakes of the past and to tell better stories about people who were previously left out. In this video, fashion becomes a medium of communication, capable of sending strong messages about inclusion, equality, and historical repair. This is very relevant in today’s world, where many young people, especially Africans, are calling for fair representation in global industries. The dominant viewer will therefore understand that Gucci is using its platform to uplift Black voices and showcase fashion as a bridge that connects different communities. The Gucci x Dapper Dan BTS video is rich in symbolic meaning. Through the lens of Stuart Hall’s encoding/decoding model, especially the dominant reading, we can see how Gucci and Dapper Dan use fashion and media to communicate powerful messages of respect, recognition, and inclusion. The dominant audience is expected to view the video as a celebration of Black culture and a sign that Gucci is evolving into a more socially responsible brand. 

That Gucci Drip? Marx Would Call It Exploitation!

 

The Gucci x Dapper Dan “Made in Harlem” video may seem like a celebration of culture and creativity, but from a Marxist lens, it ultimately reinforces capitalist exploitation.
The video presents a glamorous partnership between a Black Harlem legend and a global fashion powerhouse. On the surface, this seems empowering. However, the deeper structural realities it obscures labour, class, and production tell a different story. What emerges is a classic case of representation without redistribution, a re-branding of oppression as opportunity.

A Marxist critique begins by asking: whose labour made this collaboration possible?
While the video centers Dapper Dan as the face of the campaign and features models dressed in luxurious outfits, it erases the actual workers who produced these goods. We do not see the factory workers in Italy or Asia, the tailors sewing garments, nor the African farmers growing cotton or rearing livestock for leather. Instead, the spotlight is on those at the end of the value chain, the face of the brand, not the hands.
This invisibility of labour reinforces the capitalist logic where the working class is made absent, even though they are essential to the production of wealth. Their absence in the video shows how capitalism hides its exploitative mechanisms under the glitter of luxury.

Commodity fetishism is central to the video’s visual language, transforming human labour into objects of desire. There are numerous slow-motion shots of Gucci monogrammed jackets, fur-lined coats, gold chains, and branded sunglasses. The camera lingers on these items as if they possess value in themselves, rather than as results of human labour. Harlem, too, is transformed into a fetish, not a lived community but an aesthetic background for fashion.
This is the essence of fetishism: we are seduced by the product but made blind to the social relations behind it. The viewer is taught to admire luxury items and urban coolness, without questioning how those things came to be, or who is excluded from enjoying them.

The visibility of characters in the video reflects a deeply unequal class structure, disguised as diversity. Dapper Dan gets a prominent share of screen time, positioned as a success story of Black excellence. The models, mostly Black, also feature heavily but remain silent and passive. Stylists and directors, likely wealthier and more powerful  appear briefly but clearly direct the action. Meanwhile, the actual garment workers, assistants, and logistics personnel are entirely invisible. This hierarchy of screen presence mirrors the capitalist hierarchy of value, where those who produce the goods are hidden, and those who consume or symbolise them are glorified. Representation is selectively distributed to give the illusion of inclusion, while maintaining class inequality.

The video promotes an ideology that normalises capitalism by framing success as personal rather than structural. Taglines like “Made in Harlem” suggest a grassroots origin story, while Dapper Dan’s presence implies that hard work and style can lead to upward mobility. The narrative frames him as someone who “made it” by entering the system that once excluded him. However, this story individualizes success and ignores broader social and economic conditions that keep most people in Harlem and across the Global South locked out of luxury.
This kind of ideology is what Marxists call false consciousness: it persuades people to believe in the fairness of a system designed to exploit them. By turning Dapper Dan’s success into a marketing campaign, Gucci is not transforming the system; it is simply profiting from the appearance of change.

Contradictions in the video expose moments where the capitalist fantasy begins to unravel. One scene shows a model slouched between takes, visibly disinterested, a moment of human boredom cutting through the glamour. Another moment is when Dapper Dan says, “They didn’t want us, but now they need us,” revealing an underlying tension. The collaboration is not about equality but strategic absorption. Harlem is shown with aesthetic polish but stripped of its real social dynamics, hinting at cultural appropriation more than empowerment.
These glitches in the narrative are cracks in the ideological facade. They reveal the unresolved conflict between the capitalist system’s need to modify Black culture and its refusal to challenge the power structures that oppress Black people globally.

By examining the relationship between Harlem and Gucci, we uncover how capitalism rebrands resistance as trend. Historically, Harlem has been a site of Black resistance, creativity, and working-class struggle. Dapper Dan’s original work was rebellious, remixing white European fashion logos into a new Black vernacular. Now, that same energy is packaged, sanitized, and sold back to consumers at premium prices. The barbershop, a community centrepiece, becomes a styled set. The street becomes a catwalk. Harlem itself becomes an accessory.
This transformation shows how capitalism absorbs opposition, flattens its edges, and turns it into a commodity maintaining power while pretending to share it.

The real contradiction lies in the gap between appearance and reality, empowerment and exploitation. While Gucci claims to honour Harlem and uplift Dapper Dan, the economic structure remains untouched. Profits still flow upward. The garment workers remain underpaid. The elite still control the means of production. The collaboration does not decolonise fashion  it recolonises culture through the lens of capitalism.
This contradiction is important: even as more Black and Brown faces appear in campaigns, the underlying machinery remains built on the same global inequalities.

From a Marxist perspective, the Gucci x Dapper Dan campaign functions as a tool of ideological control, not liberation. It distracts from class struggle with style, turns symbols of resistance into tokens of luxury, and replaces collective liberation with individual aspiration. The message is: you can make it, if you’re chosen, if you’re marketable, if you’re exceptional. For the masses? Stay dreaming.
In doing so, it reinforces a deeply unequal system while pretending to celebrate diversity.

In conclusion, the Gucci x Dapper Dan “Made in Harlem” video, though visually stunning and culturally rich, ultimately serves capitalist interests by masking exploitation with representation.
Labour is erased, luxury is fetishised, and class hierarchy is disguised as cultural celebration. Through strategic visibility, ideological narratives, and aesthetic appropriation, the campaign transforms Harlem’s radical history into a high-fashion accessory.

 In Nigerian terms, “Dem say ‘Made in Harlem’, but who really dey cash out? The tailor or the tag?”