I feel you Grace, I feel you hardcore.
I feel you Grace, I feel you hardcore.
The representation of unrestrained appetite as inappropriate for women, the depiction of female eating as a private, transgressive act, make restriction and denial of hunger central features of the construction of femininity and set up the compensatory binge as a virtual inevitability. Such restrictions on appetite, moreover, are not merely about food intake. Rather, the social control of female hunger operates as a practical ‘discipline’ (to use Foucault‘s term) that trains female bodies in the knowledge of their limits and their possibilities. Denying oneself food becomes the central micro-practice in the education of feminine self-restraint and containment of impulse.
Susan Bordo, Unbearable Weight: Feminism, Western Culture and the Body [x]
Even as I sit here writing I’m hungry and promising myself that I’m not allowed to eat until I’m done with this project.
But as Bordo suggests, food isn’t the only outlet for this kind of obedience training. The kind of shaming women experience over food is also applied across other avenues of pleasure. Sex, dancing.
It’s hilarious that we live in a society that will shame you for how much sex you have and for the junk food you eat. Like, wow, how dare you eat delicious foods and have orgasms, you’re a monster. Enjoy your miserable life filled with pleasures. [x]
A whole bunch of ladies competing for being the most transgressively indulgent. For, you know, eating.
Pleasure isn’t “bad.” In fact, it’s good. It’s the best.
Puritanism: The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.
H. L. Mencken
On the way home tonight this very tired and fussy kid was sitting next to me. I don’t know if you can see it from this blurry-ass camera phone picture (did I mention that this kid was squirmy?) but he’s wearing pink uggs with the disney castle embroidered on the side. He was also sporting a purple coat and a few different colors of neon nail polish.
And no one died. The institution of marriage didn’t collapse, no one committed any sins they weren’t previously planning on committing.
I just wanted to point that out. If you were curious about what would happen.
Rock on, kid. Rock on.
A friend of mine reblogged this the other day.
And the final one being “…most of us are pretty sick of being assailed by uninvited male opinions.”
Here is the argument. Men try to say “Why do you put on so much makeup when you look so beautiful with conventional ‘pretty’ makeup?”
And I say “I do what I want because I’m my own person and do what makes me happy.”
You know what’s crazy?! That some women don’t wear makeup to impress men. Some women do it because they like it. When I wear 5 different colors on my eyes with bright ass pink lipstick I KNOW that shit ain’t cute. But you know why I do it? Because makeup is about having fun and being artistic. So if you don’t like my fabulously defined eyebrows I’m okay with that, I didn’t need your approval anyways. I just think some men really need to put their egos to the side and STOP thinking that everything women do is to impress you guys. [x]
Your body is your own. Sometimes you do things to your appearance to change how you’re treated but just as often do you do things because you feel like it. Or maybe you wanted to scare people or look really different.
And if you aren’t down with women controlling their own appearances then I’m not down with you.
The other day I got to see a friend I rarely ever see. A friend I cherish and respect.
As long as I’ve known her she’s been the same weight. And as long as I’ve known her she’s been griping about this mythical ‘normal weight’ that she used to be. The weight she was before she was ‘overweight.’ And she called herself fat. And she said that other mutual friends of ours who were the same ‘over (but seriously not really) weight’ were also ‘overweight.’
You know what really drives me crazy? The word Overweight. You know what is Overweight? A 51 lb suitcase. And that’s according to TSA, who no one takes pride in listening to. Ever.
So why do we buy into the idea that your weight at age 20, when you’re on 3 different sports teams, is your ‘normal’ weight. And that once you go a hamburger over that weight, then you are FAT?
As the oft-problematic Moran puts it:
The worst part is that she accused our friend’s kid of also being Overweight. At 5 freaking years old. She said that she wouldn’t ever dream of letting her body anxiety rub off on this kid, but you know what? It will. Whether you want it to or not. I’m sure it already has.
Because this perspective is the problem. That your weight, which is healthy, which is not obese, which is not even approaching being a health risk for you or anyone else is capital-W Wrong and needs fixing in yourself and others. That just because you and her and her don’t look like Cindy Crawford, you must be in need of fixing. THAT YOU’RE ACTUALLY JUST GOOD, KIND, SKINNY PEOPLE TRAPPED IN BAD, FAT BODIES.
“Female fat [as] a moral issue is articulated with words like good and bad. If our culture’s fixation on female fatness or thinness was about sex, it would be private issue between a woman and her lover; if it were about health, between a woman and herself… A cultural fixation on female thinness is not an obsession about female beauty but one about obedience.”
- Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth
But that’s not how bodies work. Your fat content is not what makes you a good or worthy person. You are beautiful. Your body is beautiful. Just ask your husband. What do you think you see that none of us do? and why do you think it’s inherently wrong?
And do you know how I know your issues are going to rub off on our friends kid? Do you know who you sound just like? You sound just like the problem.
P.S. You’re probably reading this so please remember that I love you. Your position on this just offends everything I stand for and makes me really really mad.
I just read Nora Ephron’s book “I Remember Nothing” in which she tells a story about one of her first jobs as a writer, or more exactly as a “researcher” aka fact checker at Newsweek. In the story a name was spelled wrong and there was a tizzle in the ‘research room’ about which researcher had made the error and would be fired.
What she points out that she understood in hindsight is that the writers were all male. The male writer had written the name wrong and the all-female pool of ‘researcher’ underlings would be blamed.
Ephron points out that at the time she didn’t see the institutional sexism for what it was.
This reminded me of a great article about the talented Nicki Minaj.
Brags and disses are inherent to the culture of hip-hop—part of defining one’s self is by showing how flamboyantly you can cut down someone else—and Nicki Minaj as a spitter is not exempt from this tradition. But the feminist inside me wishes this was not the case, beginning with her feud with Lil Kim during the release of Pink Friday, after Kim accused her of stealing her style. (Prior, Minaj properly genuflected at the throne of Kim.) A few unfortunate barbs back, and the first single from Minaj’s second album, Roman Reloaded, is “Stupid Hoe,” a Kim dis that is sonically adventurous, lyrically amazing (“You can suck my diznik, if you take this jizz-is,You don’t like them disses, give my ass some kisses”), and then verbatim calls her adversaries “Nappy headed hoes.”…
Meanwhile, fans of women rappers watch with dismay as the new crop repeats the male-centric cycle of dis-retort-repeat, rather than supporting one another. As Azealia Banks gets increasingly famous, her Southern counterpart, Tampa Bay’s Dominique Young Unique, is throwing barbs her way, releasing diss tracks and having Twitter fights with the fellow 20-year-old. At this point, the good old-fashioned rap beef feels regressive, especially when we’re finally getting over the drought of women receiving attention. With Minaj’s lead, it would be kinda nice if, just once, all these awesome women would get together and do a “Ladies First 2012.” Because we have a much bigger, much more deadly adversary to combat: patriarchy.
I know basically nothing about rap music or the surrounding culture but I do know that if it’s about proving yourself by dissing others and Minaj as a woman is being pitted against other women, then the Newsweek offices of the 1960′s aren’t that different from wherever Minaj is hanging out. No matter what it might look like on the outside.
I wanted to mention this in the last post but thought it might be upsetting if you had images of your underage sons in your head.
On top of being good people, can we raise our boys not to think that girl’s bodies are gross?
Just imagine how happy your daughters would be then!
“Males as a group have and do benefit the most from patriarchy, from the assumption that they are superior to females and should rule over us. But those benefits have come with a price. In return for all the goodies men receive from patriarchy, they are required to dominate women, to exploit and oppress us, using violence if they must to keep patriarchy intact. Most men find it difficult to be patriarchs. Most men are disturbed by hatred and fear of women, by male violence against women, even the men who perpetuate this violence. But they fear letting go of the benefits. They are not certain what will happen to the world they know most intimately if patriarchy changes. So they find it easier to passively support male domination even when they know in their minds and hearts that it is wrong.”— bell hooks, Feminism is for Everybody
I read an article the other day about how the most recent feminist wave is presenting feminism as the cooler option mainly because the feminists are against the people who are against having more sex.
So, a plea to the people entering their fertile years.
Please, please, please, raise smart sons.
Kind, aware, and unafraid of a new definition of masculinity.
“Our work of love should be to reclaim masculinity and not allow it to be held hostage to patriarchal domination. There is a creative, life-sustaining, life-enhancing place for the masculine in a non-dominator culture. And those of us committed to ending patriarchy can touch the hearts of real men where they live, not by demanding that they give up manhood or maleness, but by asking that they allow its meaning to be transformed, that they become disloyal to patriarchal masculinity in order to find a place for the masculine that does not make it synonymous with domination or the will to do violence.”—bell hooks, The Will to Change,
Especially if you think you’ll want grandchildren one day.
Having been physically ripped from my best friend I’ve found a new group of friends to love fiercely. I’m certainly the feminist out of the bunch but as we spend time together I’m hearing from them more and more “I was watching The Voice last night and there was this commercial and in it this woman was like ‘I thought I did the dishes already’ and it made me mad because why does she expect that her husband doesn’t know how to wash dishes? What have you done to me!?”
One of the biggest conflicts between us is how I talk to guys. It would be quite a stretch to describe me as ‘shy’ and a few weeks ago we were on a beach checking out some guys on wakeboards. My friend was doing her thing which I will describe here as ‘I’ll strip down to my bikini and wait for him to notice me amongst this sea of bikinis.’ After a few minutes of us watching him and being annoyed that he… you know… was actually interested in what he was doing, I put my hands up in the air, waved them around and shouted HEY until he came over and talked to us. My friend was mortified. In fact I think mortified is too subtle a word. To say that she wanted the earth to open up and swallow us would probably be more appropriate.
Nonetheless he came over and I asked him about the board he was on, where he lived, and what cool bars he could suggest. Then we said our farewells and we each left. No harm done.
Herein lies the question. My friend was sure that behavior like that would never get me anywhere, was unladylike and unattractive. I say that I don’t want to be with any guy who wouldn’t be cool with a strange woman introducing herself first (granted probably not like I did in this example, but in truth it’s just one example in many).
I like to say Hi. I don’t want to sit back and be coy and wait for some guy to notice me. If I noticed you I’m going to say Hi and it might be loud, so be prepared. And if you’re not into that, well at least I know now that you’re not right for me before I sink time and effort into you.
What it comes down to is this: Why should I pretend not to be the kind of person who is going to raise her hand in the lecture hall, to dance on the bar, to volunteer at Blue Man Group? What reason do I have to pretend to be someone more ‘conventionally likable’ just so I can turn around ‘after the honeymoon period’ and turn out to be (shocker) me.
The ‘tactics’ my new friends suggest sound ripped from the pages of cosmo magazine. Lean on the bar, stand in a group of people, point your belly button at him if you’re interested, don’t wear too much clothing.
These tricks might work well for some couples and honestly I’m a little envious of them but the truth is that if I did that stuff I’m pretty sure I’d end up with a guy who likes girls who lean on things, silently, shirtlessly, and never move their feet. Sooner or later he’d find out that I tricked him into thinking I’m that girl and we would be over.
From The Rules:
Some research from Broadblogs shows that men have very mixed reactions to ‘playing hard to get’ which in my opinion supports my ‘some people like this and some people don’t’ hypothesis.
Some guys like people like people who lean on things. Some people like people who get the hell up and make fools of themselves. I own my foolishness and want someone who will appreciate that.
What it comes down to is that I’d rather be rejected 9 times out of 10 by someone who happens to not be interested in the person I am, rather than worry for one minute that he likes a version of me that only exist in his head.
“You are just never happy with the way you look. No matter how hard I tried or how little I ate that whole day hoping my stomach would stay flat and I would have some sort of resemblance of an ab maybe. It doesn’t matter. You look at it and go ‘Grrr, I should’ve not eaten for a week before. Oh well!”
Recently (since I changed my hair) it seems everyone is quick to compare me to miss Jennifer Grey (pre-nose-job of course) and so when I came across this broadblogs post I was immediately interested. Little did I know it would be absolutely brilliant. From Broadblogs:
When women evaluate their physical attractiveness, they compare themselves with an idealized standard of beauty, such as a fashion model. In contrast, when both men and women evaluate their intelligence, they do not compare themselves to Einstein, but rather to a more mundane standard.
The article’s main point is that there is a reason your self-esteem is so low and it’s probably one of these.
Feel familiar? I think that for every person in the western world at least one of these are probably true and for every woman at least two. So is it any wonder that I can count on one hand the number of women I know who have really amazing body image? Not really.
It’s not your face or your body that is unattractive. I like to think that it wasn’t Grey’s nose or her plastic surgery that was her downfall but the fact that her low self esteem won out.
So next time you’re really nervous about a pimple or your big teeth remember that you’re probably a lot hotter than you think. And that in truth it doesn’t really matter because everyone else is too busy worrying about what they look like while you are doing more worthwhile things and basking in your incredible self confidence.
Ugly is irrelevant. It is an immeasurable insult to a woman, and then supposedly the worst crime you can commit as a woman. But ugly, as beautiful, is an illusion. A matter of taste, a whim, an eye, a beholder, an opinion, a spin, light crossing the frame, paint, projection. The moment. Context.~Margaret Cho (via light-essence)