RITING ABOUT WOMEN is tricky business. Write sympathetically, and you stand accused of female bias. Write critically, and you may be accused of something worse: political bias. Consider the commentary about Katherine Harris and the follow-up commentary about it.
Florida's secretary of state is a pivotal player in the ongoing post-Election Day drama. By refusing to extend the deadline for accepting manual ballot recounts, Harris, a Republican, took a strong stand that cut off Democrat Al Gore's best chance for a quick and favorable resolution of the Florida's voter recount stalemate.
She took that stand wearing her political heart on her sleeve - she is unquestionably a George W. Bush loyalist - and a lot of makeup on her face. In subsequent press conferences, Harris sported much less eyeliner. This is clear evidence she knew what every other female over age 7 knew: she was destined for infamy as a Glamour Magazine ''fashion don't,'' unless she took some drastic action to tone down her look.
Is that observation a sign of superficial thinking? Like it or not, image is important, as today's media-savvy audience clearly understands. From television's earliest days, Marshall MacLuhan concluded that ''the medium is the message.'' In a practical, not just an esoteric sense, that means that any woman who goes near a television camera knows red is a good color for a jacket or a scarf, but too much of it on the lips does terrible things to message and a viewer's ability to concentrate on it. That may not be fair, but it's true.
The fashion police are tougher on women - and women are always tough on each other - but men are also critiqued on looks and apparel.
Think of scenes from Crawford, Texas, where visitors to Bush's ranch attempt to look as casual as their host, with some ridiculous-looking results: Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott in blue jeans. To be bipartisan about it, the Gore camp also looks silly as it switches from khakis and jeans to suits and ties, all in a concerted effort to convey a certain image at a certain point in time.
In fact, partisanship is a very significant issue when it comes to analyzing the uproar over Harris's Maybelline moment. Female writers who questioned her motives and mentioned her mascara were cited not just for cattiness, but for left-leaning politics.
In a Wall Street Journal column that ran under the headline ''Sisterhood isn't just powerful, it's mean,'' author Danielle Crittenden proved her point by meanly blasting female writers from the Washington Post and Boston Herald who dared to comment on Harris's over-the-top mask of makeup. (For the record, I described Harris's makeup as ghoulish and imagined her chanting, ''Out, damn chad, '' in Lady Macbeth-like fashion.)
In Crittenden's view, this all relates somehow to Bill Clinton's ability to turn ''feminism inside out.'' Her thinking echoes these hallowed conservative themes: Feminists are apologists for Bill and Hillary. Therefore, the things that outraged them in the past - like sexual harassment or judging a woman by looks, not acts - no longer do, as long as fellow liberals are doing the harassing or the judging.
''What ultimately matters to feminists is the letter on your sweater. And if you're wearing the wrong letter on your sweater, sisterhood isn't just powerful. Honey, it's mean,'' she writes.
How does one rebut Crittenden? Opine witchily about Tipper Gore's weight or US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright's oversized hats?
The most important lesson in the Harris brouhaha is how few women play a leading role in circumstances of this magnitude. Excluding wives, mothers, and daughters, the candidates' political inner circles are made up mostly of men. On both sides, the legal stars are middle-aged white men. Whenever there is talk about conflict resolution, the media heavyweights look wistfully to elder statesmen. Obviously, there are no elder stateswomen.
As a bright, attractive and ambitious woman, Katherine Harris stood out in the political mix. Then, when her moment in the national spotlight came, she did two things: She did exactly what the men around her wanted her to do. And she did it wearing too much blue eyeshadow.
Joan Vennochi's email address is vennochi@globe.com.
