Justin Timberlake performs with Janet Jackson during the halftime show at the Super Bowl, 2004 in Houston, Texas. Photo: Jeff Haynes/Getty
On 1 February 2004, in the finale of the Super Bowl halftime show (the most watched event on American TV), Justin Timberlake, 23, ripped off the right cup of 37-year-old Janet Jackson’s bustier, exposing her nipple on screen for nine-sixteenths of a second. Timberlake referred to this as a “wardrobe malfunction”, the media as “nipplegate”.
I was living in London, had no interest in American football, and no way of seeing the event. I didn’t have a television. I did have a laptop, but YouTube didn’t exist yet. Still images on the news, telly, magazines and tabloids could give no hint of just how brief the incident was.
Jackson was at the height of her career. The backlash was devastating.
The media almost universally condemned her as a calculated publicity-seeker. For years, talk show hosts and comics used her as a punchline. Her videos were removed from MTV. Her music was removed from many American radio stations, causing her then new album Damita Jo to tank. Fines were issued to the CBS network, which had broadcast the Super Bowl, and an indecency trial – largely propelled by the Parents Television Council, a rightwing lobby backed by billionaire L Brent Bozell III (who was sworn in this month as Donald Trump’s ambassador to South Africa!) – dragged on for eight years.
‘Nipplegate’ encapsulates the moral panic that’s triggered in response to any suggestion of female sexuality – especially in connection to black women
At the time, you would have been forgiven for forgetting that it was Timberlake who had ripped off Jackson’s top. His involvement was minimised or not mentioned. He was quick to apologise to then CBS boss Les Moonves, but it would be many years before he made any kind of public apology to Jackson. He was invited to the Grammys that year, where he won two awards. His new album was described as being “all about sexiness”.
He wasn’t the only one who seemed to have a different licence to provoke. At the same Super Bowl halftime show, rapper Nelly appeared within a circle of twerking cheerleaders, ripping off their skirts to the chorus of Hot in Herre (undeniably choreographed rather than an accident). While the wardrobe malfunction set records for most-searched-for news item, Nelly’s performance made no headlines.
Artist and performer Paula Varjack. Photo: Christa Holka
I take pop culture seriously, because I believe it is often a touchstone for where we are in any given moment. Looking back at “nipplegate” over 20 years later, it encapsulates the changing face of media and the moral panic that’s triggered in response to any suggestion of female sexuality – especially when in connection to black women. It demonstrates how the systemic sexism and racism within the media is shaped by how those in positions of power were (and are still) disproportionately conservative, white and male.
Some things have changed for the better. Diverse representation on TV and film is improving. Diversity in the boardroom, however, has not. Systemic racism, sexism and unconscious bias still thrive.
The cast of Nine Sixteenths. Photo: Christa Holka
As a child of the MTV generation, Janet Jackson was the first black woman I remember seeing in a music video. She was an artist who expanded my sense of what a black female artist could be. She was a tremendous icon to me at a time when I had relatively few black female artists to look to. She was a game-changer in so many ways – and did it on her terms. She constantly innovated, with her music videos, styling and choreography. She seemed cool, yet also kind. It’s taken most of my life for me to fully appreciate the creative impact she has had on me.
She would never perform on her own. She would always have an ensemble. So as a start, as a homage of sorts, I decided I would have an ensemble for my new show, Nine Sixteenths.
I have been making art across disciplines for over 20 years, working in a wide range of places and organisations. The power of bringing together four women – all over 40 – who share similar hopes, fears and joys as black female performers has been incredible. So in the same way Janet Jackson inspired me to start, I hope we can inspire others like us to keep going.
Paula Varjack is an artist working in video, performance and participation. Her new show, Nine Sixteenths, starts a UK tour on 9 February at Tobacco Factory Theatres in Bristol before playing 18 venues across the country including Brighton, Oxford, Leicester, Cambridge, Manchester, Reading and Leeds and ending in a 10 day run at Brixton House, London SW9, from 20 May