and began to blaze a remarkable trail of national and international excellence” (pg.
Any woman who did opt to participate in track and field frequently faced stigmatization as an “amazon” or a “muscle mole.” As historian Susan Cahn explained, “black women stepped into an arena largely abandoned by middle-class white women. A case study of Flo Jo’s fame and legacy provides insight into the cultural understandings of female athletes of color.ĭue to the historical prohibitions of middle-class feminine norms in sport, few white women competed in track and field in the first half of the twentieth century. Such mediation in popular culture consequently reaffirmed normative notions of race, gender, and sexuality. The predominantly white, male cultural gatekeepers regularly discussed Flo-Jo’s nails, clothing, and sexuality, consequently deploying long-standing racial ideologies predicated on social signifiers of difference. As Flo-Jo both embodied and challenged conventional gender and racial norms, she offers a unique opportunity to interrogate the mediation of black femininity in the United States. This post examines Griffith-Joyner’s rise to fame, representation in popular culture, and the mediation of her image in public lore. She also impressed with colorful, self-designed, one-legged bodysuits, and star-spangled fingernails.Īs Christine Brennan of the Washington Post recounted, “With her long, painted finger-nails, hand-made bodysuits, flowing hair and deep, mellow voice, Griffith Joyner doesn’t even need gold medals to make it big.” From her clothing choices to her fingernail colors, Flo-Jo’s appearance fostered more public awe and scrutiny than did her athletic accomplishments. Four years later in the Seoul Olympics, the superstar, now Griffith-Joyner through marriage and nicknamed “Flo-Jo” by the media, again dazzled crowds, setting two world records. The relatively unknown runner earned two silver medals however, the fame Griffith garnered actually stemmed more from her colorful, four-inch long fingernails and clothing decisions than her speedy feats. In the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics, local runner Florence Griffith (who later added the Joyner) burst onto the international scene.