The riddle about the cliché is that at one point, it actually had a powerful meaning. Things rarely start as cliché; clichés develop over time. When we look at Hip-Hop music videos today where images of Black females dominate the screen, the problem goes beyond their image toward the dangerous plateau where these improper representations no longer alarm the viewer. Undeniably, Hip-Hop’s mainstream resume has the sexiest staples that hold it together: the presence of the scantily clad video vixen. Now, some of our older readers can backtrack to the days of 2 Live Crew and the group's racy videos, which featured half-naked young White models. Arguably, the statement that 2 Live Crew made with the women in their videos was the extension of a sexual revolution. This revolution, which blossomed during the 1960’s, stood behind the mainframe of sexual freedom and rebellion against conservative views on sex. Even though 2 Live Crew may not have been thinking of this, their decision to put women in their videos was conscious. Yet, it struck a nerve within the community.

Now, things get tricky when we move into the early 90’s. The West Coast debutante ball introduced us not only to chronic and gin & juice, but it also gave us one of our first introductions to the Black female video vixen. Though this was a novelty at the time, the Black female’s entrance into Hip-Hop was less than glorious because rather than being the leading ladies in their light screen debut, these vixens were merely reduced to yellow tape extras. The degradation not only came from skimpy costumes revealing extra skin, but from the fact that these women were a dime a dozen. When Hip-Hop detractors got on the podium, they not only cited the unfavorable lyrics of the songs, but they also pointed out that these vixens, by being so easy to find, were degrading themselves. 

Videos with tons of “booties and breasteses” have sent the wrong idea that they are formulaic to success on the Hip-Hop light screen. Nowadays, the presence of voluptuous bachelorettes on the light screen does little beyond luring us into watching the video. Marketing agents are quick to holler “Sex Sells!”, but in actuality, sex just sells itself, and not necessarily the featured song. In fact, from the most innocent toddlers to the oldest Viagra patients, Hip-Hop's audience is in on the secret. Sure, we like to see some black cherry sometimes, but by the end of the video, we’re like, “the song wasn’t even good background music.”
                   
2006. Enter stage right Kanye West and Rhymefest’s “Brand New”. This video is certainly not a vaccine to Hip-Hop Hollywood’s female to male ratio, but it does relieve some symptoms.
                   
The lead single “Brand New” off of Rhymefest’s debut album, although it is rich with stereotypes of its own, eases some concerns about how Hip-Hop is being portrayed on television. “Video hoes” are still a staple even in this well thought out video, which features Kanye as a music master and Rhymefest as his reluctant apprentice. However, in “Brand New,” their ambiguous ethnicity and flavorful attire grants them an additional thought. Instead of just flashing bling  all day, Kanye and Rhymefest celebrate Hip-Hop’s origin as a pastime of the Black working class. Rhymefest is plainly dressed (for TV at least). He is just a poor rapper that one day happens to find himself in Kanye West’s beat barbershop for a “crew cut”.  Many parts of this video from Rhymefest’s mail route to his raggedy home studio is a reminder of where Hip-Hop’s candle wax really is. So, it’s only suitable that when one of the women in the video walks around with her blinged out son, Rhymefest does not “agree with that decision.”
                   
When sex is portrayed on the screen in a classy way, it celebrates fertility and beauty in women. Ludacris’s “Pimpin’ All Over the World”, although it uses the “ho” prefix a couple of times, is a good example. We can appreciate the basic message of acknowledging beauty around the world. Another example is Outkast’s “The Way You Move” video when the women in it are on a green pasture. This scene, unlike its contemporaries, presents women in a tasteful manner. The earth gives birth to these beautiful creatures and in turn these beautiful creatures are fertile like the ground they walk on.
                     
Fertile is the key word. In today’s music video, the people in them are not always portrayed to be fertile. When a flock of vixens, who their fathers have carefully named, parade the screen nameless, an element of their fertility is gone. They are no longer carefully sought as individuals, but dismissed with the mass of pretty faces that color the screen. The media has done the same injustice to the Black male. How many times have we watched rappers in a music video and said, “These girls wouldn’t even make eye contact with these dudes in the real world.” Seeing rappers touch girls that they could not even have eye sex with cancels their fertility as Black men. Even though their lyrics are so sexually charged, we are left thinking, “Would this woman even sleep with you?”