The pajama party that failed: Oxygen was supposed to be a breath of fresh air for women. Shannon James explains why the ratings-starved network is gasping - Oxygen Media Inc

Women's Quarterly, Summer, 2002 by Shannon James

A WHILE BACK, I flipped on the TV and came across a hilarious Saturday Night Live takeoff of C-SPAN, the public affairs network that broadcasts congressional hearings and panel discussions. The skit, entitled She-Span, featured strident, syntactically challenged female panelists prattling on about nuclear weapons and the war on terror. The hostess, May Lee, speculated on why a country might go nuclear: "What is it going to come down to? You wear the wrong color sweater and you're gonna be nuked? I mean, what is going on?"

As the show broke for commercials, it dawned on me: She-Span is a real political roundtable, not a parody. Horrified, I continued to watch and discovered that the segment was part of the daily Pure Oxygen talk show airing clusively on Oxygen. You know--Oxygen, that cable-for-chicks network that relendessly promotes an imperceptible idea of femininity that all women supposedly share. Their motto celebrates "unleashing the power of women to do great things." Remember the Oxygen ad showing a nursery full of newborn babies in little pink caps? The babies rebelliously throw their caps into the air, while one little fist is raised in a clenched baby-girl-power salute. In the background, Helen Reddy's song soars: "I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman." Reddy's lyrics don't apply to infants, but Oxygen aims to pique adult female interest enough to get viewers to bond in sisterly solidarity.

Oxygen Media debuted on February 2, 2000 (02/02, get it?) and was supposed to be a breath of fresh air. It was created by Geraldine Laybourne (the matriarch of Nickelodeon and arguably the most powerful woman in cable television); the team of Tom Werner, Marcy Carsey, and Caryn Mandabach (the trio who created The Cosby Show and Roseanne); and Oprah Winfrey. Convinced (despite statistics showing otherwise) that female audiences are "underserved," the company's founders aimed to "create a new network that will focus on women and treat us like the busy, smart, and complex people we are."

At its inception, Oxygen, which has financial backing from such giants as AOL, was only available in a paltry ten million homes. Two years later, Oxygen is still gasping along, trailing well behind rival Lifetime ("Television for Women"), which pipes into eighty-five million homes and ranks first in prime-time ratings among basic cable networks. Despite a rocky start, Oxygen shows unwavering confidence in its inevitable success, believing the network offers something "Wifetime" television, as Lifetime is derisively known, doesn't: intelligent, original programming instead of sitcom re-runs and made-for-TV movies that consistently portray women as hapless victims.

Laybourne christened the network "Oxygen" because she believes that in today's frenetic society every woman needs to take a deep breath. To drive home the point, Oxygen's daily programming cycle begins with Inhale, a yoga class, and ends with Exhale, a talk show hosted by Candice Bergen. Though Laybourne has dismissed Lifetime as television "for the viewer who likes to be passively entertained," and gears her sassier network toward active professionals, any "smart and complex" woman might easily confuse the two networks.

Oxygen's programming generally follows two themes: Love and Fashion, presumably reflecting Oxygen's commitment to all things female. After all, says Oxygen, women "want to shop." (Oxygen swears by statistics, insisting that women comprise 85 percent of consumer spending.) Pure Oxygen frequently devotes segments to fashion, and the ubiquitous, outrageous Isaac Mizrahi pops up weekly to host a show on which he does makeovers with models and designs dresses for movie stars, all of whom are of course good friends.

Tracey Ullman hosts a risque show called Tracey Ullman's Visible Panty Lines which promises that she--and her celebrity guests--will take "an irreverent look at personal style" and "debunk the mystique behind the world of high fashion." Racy Tracey asks provocative questions such as: "What's your favorite color for underwear?" and zooms in on guests' childhood photos "to illustrate their personal style." The "let's do a makeover" show really just features a lot of yapping, mostly from the once-funny hostess.

If women become bored by clothes and makeup, however, Oxygen offers plenty of proactive romance to fill the void. The network's latest inspiration, eLOVE, promises to entertain its female audience with "portraits of couples whose liaisons bring new meaning to the term 'love connection."' Voyeuristic camera crews follow women (and men) busy "flirting and falling in love on the web," listen in on their phone calls, and then tag along as the couple travels absurd distances to take "the big step of meeting for the first time." Though uncomfortably reminiscent of Darva Conger--the bitter victor of Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire? -- these women, according to Oxygen, are "taking control of their love lives."

For women who crave even edgier fare, Oxygen showcases "pop culture icon" Carrie Fisher and her in-control-of-their-love-lives celebrity chums. In Conversations from the Edge with Carrie Fisher, Carrie curls up in a chair and interviews her famous friends while the audience "eavesdrops," as Oxygen promo material puts it. Any Lifetime damsel-in-distress movie has to be more entertaining than an hour of listening to Carrie whine with Melanie Griffith or Courtney Love about their dysfunctional families, their drug days, and Hollywood's unfairness to--no, discrimination against--women over forty.