Wear a ribbon, win an Oscar
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.THEY were all wearing them at the Oscars last night. Every frock, every tux - that red ribbon was unavoidable. The ribbon has come to signify a big thing whenever celebrities gather: you wear this little loop of cloth and you are saying you support people with Aids and their carers.
Hard to find a better cause or a more noble act. But only two years after the ribbons began appearing, their days appear to be numbered. People who originally promoted the ribbons are now wary of the adverse effects they may be having. Those affected by Aids claim that what began as a bold statement of genuine solidarity may have become an expression of guilt, something tokenistic, an empty gesture.
'Wearing a ribbon should be no substitute for more affirmative action,' says James Hulse, a member of the militant gay organisation Act Up, and he's not alone. 'Ask (wearers) if they've donated money. Ask them if they've written to their congresspeople.' The answer, he fears, will inevitably be negative.
The red ribbon was created soon after the Gulf war. If there were yellow ribbons tied around trees for the boys overseas, why not something for the disease that claimed far more of our boys at home? The mainstream American music and film industries were notoriously slow in even acknowledging Aids; there were few Aids-related products and the occasional benefit show inevitably featured the usual suspects - those fair- minded stalwarts who had turned out for every benefit since Vietnam.
Patrick O'Connell, a 39-year-old New Yorker, founded the organisation Visual Aids and set about designing what he called a 'public artwork'. His first target was the Tony Awards, which celebrate achievement in the theatre; every presenter and nominee was told of the project, yet few responded positively. But there was good news: two who did sport a ribbon were Jeremy Irons and Tyne Daly, celebrities not normally associated with Aids-awareness campaigns. Viewers wanted to know what on earth the ribbons stood for, which, of course, was the desired effect.
Visual Aids then joined with Broadway Cares and Equity Fights Aids to establish the Ribbon Project to spread the message wider. Ed Asner mentioned the purpose of the ribbons on the Emmys (the television awards), but noted there was still a reluctance to wear them. The music industry wore them in force at last year's Grammys, and Madonna wore one wherever she went, which was everywhere. Now Liz Taylor and Arsenio Hall wear them on chat shows, and Maya Angelou wore one as she read a poem at Bill Clinton's inauguration. They have became common currency, available at shop counters and sports events. In a Houston fashion store a window display commemorates designers who have died of Aids - including Perry Ellis, Tina Chow and Halston - with a giant Aids ribbon. 'Unfortunately,' says Judy Pryor, the store's owner, 'we've lost more designers than we've got windows for.'
In Britain, gays and lesbians had worn ribbons from the beginning, but heterosexuals began wearing them only sporadically at awards shows (the Brits and Olivier awards) about a year ago. At this month's Baftas, every place-setting had a ribbon by the dessertspoon, and almost everybody wore one. 'We were approached last year, but because there wasn't really enough time to get things organised, only the staff wore them,' says Tony Byrne, the director of Bafta. 'This year we were approached by Red Ribbon International, and it went to the council, and we were very happy to do it.' And the winner is . . . it's a tie . . . Aids awareness and political correctness] Good stuff; wild applause.
But now, well, things may have got a little out of hand. Last month Patrick O'Connell received a special award from the Council of Fashion Designers of America. His red ribbons were praised as an 'eloquent statement of love and promise'; never before in the history of fashion had 'an accessory been so simple, so pure, and meant so much.' There, they said it: fashion accessories.
You can now buy ribbons encrusted with diamonds for dollars 445 ( pounds 300); the Robinson-May department store advertises a diamante version in magazine advertisements, with only a portion of the proceeds going to fund Aids research. The Neiman Marcus chain has a project called 50 Against One, for which Paloma Picasso, Donna Karan and others have designed ribbon-related merchandise, including hats, belts and chocolates. A shop called Don't Panic on Santa Monica Boulevard, Los Angeles, has begun selling the red ribbon inside a glass ornament. It's called Miracles Happen.
For some, ribbon-wearing has become wholly superficial. According to the Los Angeles Times, Barbara Bush wore one during last year's Republican Convention, or at least she did when she was in the audience. By the time she joined her husband on the podium, the ribbon had disappeared. Her office explained that she did not want 'to distract from the President's big moment'.
The ribbon may have become an easy cop-out. You've done your bit, why worry further about Aids? Jeff Yarborough is preparing an anti-ribbon cover story for the Advocate, the gay and lesbian magazine he edits in the United States. 'We noticed on the Grammys that the ribbons have got bigger,' he says. 'They're now sparkly, three to four inches long - it's such a cheap way out.'
Marguerite Littman, who founded the British Aids Crisis Trust, is wary of generalisation: she says she wears a ribbon and is as active as possible. She has some sympathy with a man with Aids who wrote in the New Yorker about his rage at the trivialisation of this catastrophic disease. 'But on the whole the ribbons are a step forward. Five years ago people would have thought twice about wearing one, and may not have had the nerve.'
'It's easy to wear a ribbon,' says Peter Tatchell, of the group OutRage. 'I'd much rather people worked to get legislation outlawing discrimination against people with HIV.'
But as the backlash begins, the ribbons keep on coming. Red is no longer enough: make room on your frock or tux for a pink ribbon in support of women with breast cancer and a blue one to increase awareness of child abuse.
Will they go the way of the red ribbon? What began as another affirmative crusade has deteriorated into petty squabbling. As the popularity of the red ribbons spread, the benefits seemed to lessen. We see this more often in terms of compassion fatigue, although in this case it is people with Aids and their carers who are calling a halt to the perceived tokenism. Next year's political correctness may be ribbonless.
(Photograph omitted)
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments