Japanese Women now free to enjoy mouth meat.

this is the (partially obscured) face of equality

By Ana

Good news! Those muffled moans you've been listening to all month are actually the sound of Japanese women taking an appreciative bite of out of their hamburgers... from behind a chastity muzzle. (So you can stop glaring at your neighbor every morning the elevator. Sorry, Mrs. Papadopoulos.)

According to Huffingtonpost, who probably won't mind that I borrowed one of their images,  this revolutionary East Asian dining accessory, is referred to as  the "Liberation Wrapper."  (Which, as it turns out, doesn't mean "condom," aaand might also explain why the Trinidadian guy at the gas station looked so confused.)

Instead its a type of napkin used to "cover a woman's face, thus "freeing" her to devour a burger without fear of exposing one of her germiest cavities to the world. (I assume they eat their beef raw too? ...Is something a racist or Alec Baldwin might say.)

According to Mr. Huffington, this creepy convention, brought on by the "trend known as “ochobo” --AKA having a "small and modest mouth" -- has caught on to the point where it's considered rude for women to flap their beaks in public. So when Japanese restaurant chain owners noticed a gender discrepancy in the sales of their large Classic Burger, they chalked it up to their female customers' adherence to cultural norms... Hence a need for the Liberation Wrapper. It all makes sense!

hey girl, why you covering up those fine lips?

And I thought I was oppressed for being a government sponsored infant carrier.

Am I pretty?

by Anči

Most of you are probably aware of the disturbing new You Tube trend, summed up by the phrase "Am I pretty or ugly?"

Just your average after-school activity

If you haven't heard of it, you can probably imagine what it involves. Basically it's an exercise in public humiliation, among(st) adolescent girls who... regularly  1) stare into a camera, and 2) ask the notoriously Noble-Hearted-You-Tube-Commenters to tell them whether they're pretty or ugly.  (I'm suddenly much less of ashamed of spending so much of my pubescent free-time interviewing celebrity-me in front of a mirror. "Did I feel a lot of pressure after being named one of  People's Most Beautiful? No, not really. I don't really focus on those things. Although it's always nice to be included.")
 If you've ever been on Youtube, you can probably imagine what the majority of the responses are like: (To those of you who wrote down "Dick pics captioned with an angry, misspelled request for fellatio," I'd say... That's a really specific answer.  And where are you writing that down?)

As expected, Bust reported  that "70 percent of the comments came from men. Not only were they highly derogatory in nature, but "most of them were definitely over 18.""

It was also pointed out that "The comments from females... were almost exclusively provided by the under-18 crowd," which paints a really creepy picture if you ask me.

Just the fact fact that the two primary contributors to this "trend," are underage girls, and grown men should tell you exactly which group benefits from the sexualization of young girls. And more importantly, which group it hurts the most.


Thoughts?

On Mediocre White Male Syndrome.

By Ana CL

As a creative person, I am naturally friends with a lot of other creative folk-- all of whom comprise a diverse range of perspectives that constantly energize and elevate me.
 Because writing like all other arts, is hard work-- (which I do for free) and because community is everything when you're a struggling blogger, I rely on these perspectives for solidarity and guidance.

The one group of people who I get the least acknowledgement and support from however, are creative white guys-- who routinely dismiss, and overlook my contributions, while expecting me to fall all over their artistic/activist endeavors (to the point where they literally interrupt, and talk over me, whenever I bring up my projects.)

In their defense, this behavior is a symptom of a much larger societal ill I like to call:  "mediocre white male syndrome--" a condition wherein the affected white man sports an inflated sense of talent and worth, at the expense of women and people of color.

And this behavior isn't even limited to a mere disregard for women's perspectives--it's also made plain in the aggressive and active belittling of our work. (through a process called "mansplaining")

It isn't enough that in a would-be-dialogue about writing, a creative white guy will dominate our discussion with superfluous self-aggrandizing details about his personal "search for truth" (gag)   Nay, he will also go out of his way to  "show me my place" most notably by referring to my blog as a "fun project." (unlike his pieces, which he simply refers to as his "work")

Then, in an attempt to appear gentlemanly, he'll give me "advice" I didn't ask for-- which coincidentally also functions as thinly disguised disdain for my efforts:
For starters he'll imply my writing doesn't serve a purpose, by mentioning how pop culture's influence is overhyped. Get it? Everyone knows its bullshit, so why bother trying to analyze it?
(except I don't think it's bullshit, which is why I'm the one writing this blog, and not you.)

Then he'll suggest doing some more "original work" (like he does, since he's never been influenced by anybody, ever,)-- a hint he'll  follow up with a patronizing observation about the feeble repetitiveness of online feminism. (Funny, I was going to say I find his insights repetitive and feeble.) Then when my annoyance becomes obvious, he'll tell me to lighten up. Because clearly, I'm the problem in this conversation.


I don't have one particular person in mind, as I write this. And i didn't jump into this post fresh off of an infuriating conversation. What I am describing here is in fact a pervasive attitude  held by many of my white male peers. Not all of them reach the heights of entitlement i've just described, but nearly all of them have (consciously or not) positioned themselves as a figure of creative authority over me.
And I'm sick of it.
Guys:  You don't know better than me. Your ideas aren't better than mine. Your work isn't more original than mine. And you don't know more about feminism than I do.  So.
Stop. talking. down. to. me.

Society has conditioned women to want to appear nice, and you've taken advantage of that, every time I felt compelled to indulge another self-absorbed tangent  about your craft with appreciative receptivity. I don't ever regret being thoughtful, and supportive-- and i'm certainly not going to adopt your method of rudeness instead. (I have my own standards, thank you.) But while I will continue to be fair, I will stop insisting on being nice. 

You think this won't affect you dudes, but it will. Because you rely  a lot on the support and admiration of women. (much more than you think.)

Cheers!

That Awkward Moment ... when a film perpetuates harmful gender stereotypes

Not my image, obviously.

By Isabelle M

Last night a friend and I went to see American Hustle. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the theater, the showing was already sold out. Faced with such choices as Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit and I, Frankenstein (really?!) we chose the only comedy available, even though neither of us knew what it was about. And that’s how we ended up seeing That Awkward Moment.

Now, I am naturally dubious of anything starring Zac Efron (even his name looks strange - shouldn’t there be more letters in it?) because all I know about him is that he was in something called High School Musical and that he did a lot of cocaine and went to rehab. But I like Michael B. Jordan, and the movie did have its moments.

The premise of the movie is that three guy friends in their (late?) twenties vow to stay single and yet somehow get some action pretty much every night of the week. Their mission is made almost impossible by beautiful women throwing themselves at them practically every day, begging them to settle down. But of course none of them are worth it. Once the women walk out on them it doesnt matter, because Zac (and his friend who was so unmemorable I’m not going to bother to learn his name) can just replace her on his “roster” with another hot girl. Yes, they have “rosters” like a sports team.

But that’s not the offensive thing I came here to talk about. The absolute worst part of the movie, to me, was when some girl Zac Efron is sleeping with and going on dates with at least twice in one day had the audacity to think they were in a relationship, and asks if she can come by. Zac and Michael and Unmemorable Friend are sitting on the couch when she rings the bell. The guys tell Zac to tell the chick to get lost. Zac buzzes her in anyway, and then something amazing happens.

She totally charms them! How? By conversing on literary theory? By talking about her first novel that she’s having published at the young age of …. I don’t know, 24-ish? No, by pouring the scotch she brought with her, and then playing Xbox with Zac’s friends. Then, at the end of the night, she leaves. She doesn’t try to stay the night (women, so needy! Amiright?), she knows when it’s an appropriate time to drink, when it’s an appropriate time to shoot aliens in a videogame, and she knows when to bounce.

THIS is what bothered me about the movie. THIS is the moment I have been thinking about since we left the theater. Because there is something so wrong about sending the message that a woman is only likeable when she acts like a man. Zac’s (totally worthless) friends think she’s cool because she is the antithesis of what they think women are: needy, weak, insufferable. She acts like “one of the guys” and that is the only way she gains acceptance.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with drinking, or with liking to blow up aliens on your Xbox. But when the film juxtaposes “worthless” women (Women who like shoes more than anything else on earth! Women who want to know “where this is going” after having sex twice a week for 6 weeks, etc.) with “desirable” women whose only differentiating qualities is that they act “cooler” (read: more masculine) we have a serious problem. But I suppose we knew that already.

I Don't Care That My Anxiety Makes You Uncomfortable

By Anči

You may have heard through facebook, or more likely over Anderson Cooper's twitter feed, that I am an anxious person-- well, not an"anxious person." More like "a person who suffers from anxiety." (I guess there's a difference? )
Anyway because of this, my emotions are often divided between happy-neutral and inconvenient apprehension. (with a healthy sprinkling of 'hungry' in between.)
At this point,  anxiety management comprises such a significant portion of my daily routine, that it no longer really warrants special attention.. I brush my teeth, I sit down to write, I deal with  my irrational fear of vomit and when it all gets too overwhelming, I Google Tina Fey.

It's really not as complex as it sounds, and most of the time I'm pretty okay with it. However, problems do arise whenever my "issues" cross over into the pristine arena of "the public".
 As it turns out, people don't like it when you remind them that they don't live in the unobjectionable world of a 50s sitcom. That's right: Acknowledging a potential for norm-deviation is tantamount to shitting all over a neighbor's perfect picket fence.

It took a while for me to realize this, as I never got the memo that "emotional issues" are to be addressed noiselessly and in private. [and any references to "problems" in the presence of unwilling company must be made at the risk of stigma, social alienation, and finding your lunchbox in the school toilet.]

I shouldn't have to explain why this is fucked up, but I will.  Um, it's because EVERYBODY HAS PROBLEMS. Pretending otherwise makes for a pretty pointless web of deception, don't you think?  And what could even be gained by a lifetime of simulating superficial "self-possession?"  (The answer is "More Facebook Likes." And sometimes an Oscar.)

"it came true!"

But more importantly, how happy can a person  even be if he or she dedicates their entire life to feigning socially-approved happiness? AND what does it say about society that we bother monitoring the ups and downs of others? (I'm starting to get the feeling this post will contain more questions than answers.)

While I haven't always been aware of this particular paradox,  I have often wondered for example, why it was so desirable to project unnatural detachment in manufactured social settings (a juvenile form of posturing, incorrectly conflated with confidence,) while any inkling of emotional investment was a potential affront to the predetermined pretensions and hierarchies of the occasion? [ --The angry backlash being: "Who do you think you are not to be playing your part here?"]

Because not playing one's part is about a lot more than simply "being weird." At its core,  the refusal to "know one's place" amounts to a rejection of the enforced social order, (and related conventions.)  and that is what's threatening to "the public."
I bring all this up because like all displays of sincerity, being comfortable enough to proclaim "I'm upset, or  I'm anxious, or I'm gassy!" is an outright rejection of one's social obligation  not to upset anybody. Particularly when doing so, not only disrespects the community's corresponding system of values, but worse, actively presents them with the possibility of defection.
 And we all know there's nothing scarier than acknowledging one's own complicity in the survival of an elaborate scam. A life free of choice, is a life free of responsibility.

What if we changed that script though? What if sadness, and disappointment were treated like ordinary human emotions? What if we could acknowledge that certain things really suck, and we all get scared, and lonely as a result.  A culture of openness would result in less fakery and alienation. It would the make hardships seem less intimidating.

That is  why I try not to play into America's cheerful mandate. Because I'm simply not always happy, and I think that's okay.
At times i'm genuinely distressed, and it doesn't make me pathetic to draw attention to that--if only to pause and acknowledge that "I feel pretty shitty." Any obligation a passer-by might feel to respond "appropriately," is their problem, not mine. I don't express my feeling so that I can be fed your token sympathy, okay? And to assume otherwise, is insulting. Instead of that, you might assume that I am an intelligent human being deserving of respect-- you can assume that i won't hold it against you if you're at loss for words. That's okay. It's not your job to fix me. I'm simply here to own my truth. How you react is up to you.
 It is not up to me to alter circumstances so that you never have to face anything uncomfortable. Got that?

Pantene manipulates feminism to sell more Pantene.

By Anči

 Yes it's all very magical: a giant corporation pointing out sexism, while attempting to sell beauty products to women.

Oh and, in case you can't tell, the TV spot was actually made to air in the Philippines. Yep, that's right: those luxurious locks don't belong to white women of distant Mexican ancestry. These are Filipina models we're apparently admiring.  (Looks like India isn't the only nation to glorify whiteness, eh?)

Plus, i'm not super moved by any 'social' campaign aimed at high powered women with fancy jobs.  
 I mean sure, executive ladies in business suits are negatively viewed as pushy, and that sucks. But their upper class struggles are already overrepresented in the media. (see: every sitcom, romcom, and ad campaign.)
The majority of women however, face a much more serious set of injustices,  which unfortunately don't look as glamorous on camera. (lack of access to health care, child care, birth control, employment, and oh yeah, the looming threat of sexual assault..)

I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't really give a shit whether some high-earning babe achieves "empowerment" through wealth, (or shiny hair) and neither should you.

(That reminds me: Remember that 'inspiring' moment in the Sex and the City movie, when Samantha "finds herself" after failing to land some diamond ring she was bidding on..only to discover that  her controlling boyfriend was the one that had purchased the rock... to give to her himself? Then do you  remember thinking: "Someone needs to sit these writers down and explain to them what actual problems look like?"

Girl, we've all been there.

So no, the "liberation" of rich  women doesn't move me. And neither does this Pantene commercial. Try again.

On Kate Middleton

By Anči
 

Since bringing up Kate Middleton in my post on weddings I’ve wanted to further unpack the duchess's role as Global ambassador to upper class white women:

Because let’s face is: Kate Middleton is more than just a princess or a celebrity--  she’s also the living manifestation of flawless womanhood. (A position only recently dominated by Santa Angelina Jolie.)  

Look at her. The woman literally has no bad angles.

Like Jolie, Kate has bravely accepted the mantle of envied, unattainable perfection;  and in doing so, has invoked an age-old contract with the people : Essentially this covenant grants Her Highness unchallenged status and admiration, in exchange for her unwavering commitment to maintaining a glamorous facade, fit for public consumption. 

True to her pact, our Kate has managed to do this in a number of ways--Most notably, by never ever appearing in public without her trademark, professionally blown-out hair.  (an unrealistic and impractical demand for us common folk, who regularly go to sleep with a wet ponytail, and a nasal strip.) She also projects the consistently classy,  confident image required of any inaugurated Alpha Female.  And just like her flawless foremothers  Kate is a star, of the rare variety, able to  effortlessly produce a credible (and winsome!) smile on demand.  And  In a typically mystical fashion, she has never been seen with a frown on her face, or other such unacceptably humanizing expression. Add to that a sexy royal pregnancy, and you've got superwoman.

I was too lazy to spend time looking for a brunette version.

Speaking of her pregnancy, you might recall that during that gestating time, Kate's image was  frequently  positioned next to her equally-knocked-up celeb-peer,  Kim Kardashian. (Unlike perfect Kate, Kim proved woefully incapable of cultivating a concave baby bump-- a defect for which the reality star was thoroughly shamed.)

Kate on the other hand, only reinforced her place as the mythical shepherd of unattainably slender motherhood—by consistently "outperforming" her supposed "celeb-rivals" in the media-manufactured baby-weight battle of the ages: Check it out:

 Since entering the spotlight, Kate Middleton has been primarily lauded for her looks :  the ideal girl with  shiny hair, a tight body, and glamorous wardrobe. More importantly, She's  the woman who captured the heart of the future King of England--  a supposedly impressive feat (?) reserved only for the most Angelina-like of dames. Surely then, it was acceptable to expect unmatched perfection from her. Anything less would be insulting, right?

No one can look this cute all the time!

Wait no. Apparently they can.

I want to hate her but,...she's just too adorable!

Despite fairing so well initially,  as  ambassador of white womanhood, and Chief Guardian of the Eternal Feminine Mystery. (Which, I hear is preserved inside a golden tampon, inserted by Queen Elizabeth herself,) some cracks have started to appear, on Kate's royal semblance.
The most recent glitches in her cylon veneer, literally sprouted out of her head, (in the form of unsightly grey hairs)  rendering the princess, alarmingly and visibly human. Check it out:

the face of decay

As expected, the people did not take kindly to the Royal acquisition of silvere: with  criticism escalating to widespread outrage. (I'm not exaggerating. Google it.)


 The chief objection from the hair-police,  seemed to lie in Middleton's refusal to acquiesce to the terms of the aforementioned Unattainable-Perfection-Pact. With the the majority of commentators expressing some of version of "Isn't it her job to impress us all the time? How she dare step out in public looking like that, bollocks wanker Dumbledore?" (I failed British 101)
Along with complaints about her hair, there were also a surge of ageist potshots directed at her "sagging" "baggy" skin, and under-eye circles.

It was the  familiar, brutal  takedown of a famous beauty's appearance, and it wasn't surprising.
 Any woman who teases perfection, is eventually punished, when she fails to follow through. And no one ever "follows through" because even beauties are people, and nobody's perfect.

 This is not to suggest that Kate has fallen from grace-- she still commands the attention and envy of billions of people,  but like any woman in power, she'll also continue experiencing a backlash of body shaming, and contempt rarely directed at men in similar positions.

Thoughts?


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