Hey lovely readers,
For the month of July we're going to have to make FF a private blog. Sad.
But you can still be part of our discussions about body image, female identity, sexism, feminism, and sex!
All you need to do is post your email address in the comments section OR email it to kdavis@smith.edu. We will add you to our list.
After July 31st, normal totally public blogging will resume.
Thanks!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Fun Facts
I was reading "Devices and Desires"by Andrea Tone yesterday (for my internship, not just for fun) which is about birth control (what else?) and decided that I wanted to share some of my favorite parts with ya'll. (Btw, this book is great. I highly recommend it. It is easy to read, filled with crazy information and entertaining)
Congress passed the Comstock Laws in 1873. These laws prohibited the sale of contraceptive material through the mail or across state lines by using the power of the federal government to regulate interstate commerce as justification. Throughout the 1800's contraceptive material had been widely available at druggists and even street corner shops. However, the methods were slightly less the reliable, since scientists still knew very little about how women got pregnant. (Condoms were frequently made out of animal intestine until the vulcanization of rubber made it possible to produce rubber condoms cheaply.) Until the 1920's, many doctors thought that the "safe period" was during the middle of the month b/c animals ovulate during menses, so they thought women did as well. Whoa were they wrong! In the late 19th century, people including suffragists, free love advocates, and progressives began to criticize the availability of contraceptives because they were "socially disruptive, morally offensive, and physically dangerous." By disassociating sex from procreation, they encouraged lewdness and lust especially in men.
Margaret Sanger (as ya'll know) spent her life trying to spread contraception to the masses (sometimes using eugenicist arguments to make her point). She said "no woman can call herself free who does not own and control her own body." However, most people (men) disagreed. When Sanger was arrested in 1918 for violating NY state law (it was illegal to give away or sell bc info), the judge ruled against her. He "rejected the idea that a woman has the right to copulate with a feeling of security that there will be no resulting conception." (ummmm...I object.)
Unfortunately, there is also a dirty side to birth control. Most advocates justified the need for birth control at least partially by saying that it was needed to "better" the human race. (aka getting rid of anyone who deviated from standard, healthy, white male especially anyone with mental issues or "sexual perversions") The Supreme Court ruled in Buck vs. Bell (1924) that coercive sterilization was a valid exercise of the state's right to protect public health. This applied many to people in mental institutions. (At this time, masturbation was considered a sexual perversion that could earn you a stint in a mental institution and thus, sterilization). This ruling also justified the sterilization of thousands of Native American women in the 1970's. (In some tribes, half of the women were forcibly sterilized) By 1932, 26 states had laws permitting forced sterilization. As if this doesn't suck enough, the lawyers at the Nuremberg Trials defending the Nazis used these sterilization laws as justification for Nazi policy. However, after the Holocaust, eugenics lost a lot of support (once people saw exactly how far it could go). '
Since companies were not allowed to market contraceptive devices, "feminine hygiene" became a term used for anything they claimed had contraceptive properties. Lysol (yes, the disinfectant) was the most popular contraceptive (in the form of a douche) from 1940-1960. Although it was ineffective (some studies said it was less effective than withdrawal), the company was not liable for any claims b/c it was not marketed as a contraceptive. Also, it caused burns, and death in some causes.
In the 1950's, Margaret Sanger and her peeps began to support research to find a "magic pill" for birth control. (later, known as the Pill). However, the federal government refused to fund this research. In 1959, President Eisenhower said "I cannot imagine anything more emphatically a subject that is not a proper political or government activity or function or responsibility...The government will not, as long as I am here, have a positive political doctrine in its program that has to do with the problem of birth control." (Apparently, 1/2 of the of the voting, tax-paying population doesn't merit government research or regulation) Luckily, his successors felt otherwise and approved FDA funding of research into the Pill which was approved in 1960(and used by 1.2 million women within the first two years)
Since it was still illegal to market any contraceptive information (due to obscenity laws) the Pill was originally sold to cure menstrual problems. (However, the dose was about 100 times stronger than it is today, so it actually caused more problems than it helped, but no babies) This changed in 1965 when the Supreme Court ruled (Griswold v. CT) that the right to privacy clause protected MARRIED couples including privacy in the bedroom which gave women a right to have access to birth control. UNMARRIED women were not allowed to the Pill for reasons other than menstrual probs until 1972 when the Supreme Court again ruled that the privacy clause protects us as well. Wow, its been a long journey.
Angry yet? I am. But ever thankful that I have access to affordable and safe, birth control. I wish whole-heartedly that all women around the world had this access and this choice. Sorry for another history lesson! (They will probably stop, but I am a history major, so i can't guarantee anything)
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Congress passed the Comstock Laws in 1873. These laws prohibited the sale of contraceptive material through the mail or across state lines by using the power of the federal government to regulate interstate commerce as justification. Throughout the 1800's contraceptive material had been widely available at druggists and even street corner shops. However, the methods were slightly less the reliable, since scientists still knew very little about how women got pregnant. (Condoms were frequently made out of animal intestine until the vulcanization of rubber made it possible to produce rubber condoms cheaply.) Until the 1920's, many doctors thought that the "safe period" was during the middle of the month b/c animals ovulate during menses, so they thought women did as well. Whoa were they wrong! In the late 19th century, people including suffragists, free love advocates, and progressives began to criticize the availability of contraceptives because they were "socially disruptive, morally offensive, and physically dangerous." By disassociating sex from procreation, they encouraged lewdness and lust especially in men.
Margaret Sanger (as ya'll know) spent her life trying to spread contraception to the masses (sometimes using eugenicist arguments to make her point). She said "no woman can call herself free who does not own and control her own body." However, most people (men) disagreed. When Sanger was arrested in 1918 for violating NY state law (it was illegal to give away or sell bc info), the judge ruled against her. He "rejected the idea that a woman has the right to copulate with a feeling of security that there will be no resulting conception." (ummmm...I object.)
Unfortunately, there is also a dirty side to birth control. Most advocates justified the need for birth control at least partially by saying that it was needed to "better" the human race. (aka getting rid of anyone who deviated from standard, healthy, white male especially anyone with mental issues or "sexual perversions") The Supreme Court ruled in Buck vs. Bell (1924) that coercive sterilization was a valid exercise of the state's right to protect public health. This applied many to people in mental institutions. (At this time, masturbation was considered a sexual perversion that could earn you a stint in a mental institution and thus, sterilization). This ruling also justified the sterilization of thousands of Native American women in the 1970's. (In some tribes, half of the women were forcibly sterilized) By 1932, 26 states had laws permitting forced sterilization. As if this doesn't suck enough, the lawyers at the Nuremberg Trials defending the Nazis used these sterilization laws as justification for Nazi policy. However, after the Holocaust, eugenics lost a lot of support (once people saw exactly how far it could go). '
Since companies were not allowed to market contraceptive devices, "feminine hygiene" became a term used for anything they claimed had contraceptive properties. Lysol (yes, the disinfectant) was the most popular contraceptive (in the form of a douche) from 1940-1960. Although it was ineffective (some studies said it was less effective than withdrawal), the company was not liable for any claims b/c it was not marketed as a contraceptive. Also, it caused burns, and death in some causes.
In the 1950's, Margaret Sanger and her peeps began to support research to find a "magic pill" for birth control. (later, known as the Pill). However, the federal government refused to fund this research. In 1959, President Eisenhower said "I cannot imagine anything more emphatically a subject that is not a proper political or government activity or function or responsibility...The government will not, as long as I am here, have a positive political doctrine in its program that has to do with the problem of birth control." (Apparently, 1/2 of the of the voting, tax-paying population doesn't merit government research or regulation) Luckily, his successors felt otherwise and approved FDA funding of research into the Pill which was approved in 1960(and used by 1.2 million women within the first two years)
Since it was still illegal to market any contraceptive information (due to obscenity laws) the Pill was originally sold to cure menstrual problems. (However, the dose was about 100 times stronger than it is today, so it actually caused more problems than it helped, but no babies) This changed in 1965 when the Supreme Court ruled (Griswold v. CT) that the right to privacy clause protected MARRIED couples including privacy in the bedroom which gave women a right to have access to birth control. UNMARRIED women were not allowed to the Pill for reasons other than menstrual probs until 1972 when the Supreme Court again ruled that the privacy clause protects us as well. Wow, its been a long journey.
Angry yet? I am. But ever thankful that I have access to affordable and safe, birth control. I wish whole-heartedly that all women around the world had this access and this choice. Sorry for another history lesson! (They will probably stop, but I am a history major, so i can't guarantee anything)
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Monday, June 28, 2010
A Very FF Book Review
I'm staying in a Quad House for until the very beginning of August. For those not familiar with Smith College's culture (and it is its own culture, best believe), the Quad is both geographically and socially a thing apart from the rest of campus: they party harder, and are "straighter" on average. The Quad tends to be where Smithies who maybe at first didn't really wanna be Smithies live, because it resembles a normal college scene more. And so they have books like He's Just Not That Into You in their house libraries, something I promptly took advantage of.
Having never seen Sex and the City (yes, never), I don't really give a fuck that this book was written by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo who are, as touted on the cover, a writer and a consultant for SATC. Based on their pictures on the book flap's back cover, Greg is a rapidly aging man with bad hair (I'm talkin' n*sync bad hair) and Liz needs to get outside in the sunshine and perhaps find a similarly less 90s camisole.
The book is horrendously written and poorly edited, full of Greg quipping about how he loves women in their underwear and Liz trying to apologize for Greg but merely repeating what he says (with some false commiseration and repeatedly telling us she's no girly girl and she has no emotions LOOK I'M NOT A BITCH LIKE YOU etc etc). Each chapter is based around another way to tell he's not that into you (if he doesn't ask you out, if he doesn't immediately bone you, and so on) and is based around fake letters written in a style that is deliberately intended to make women sound whiney, stupid and dependent to Greg that he answers in an extraordinarily patronizing tone.
Needless to say, I hated the book. It might've been funny if the authors (and apparently lots of other people too, since it was a #1 NYT best seller) didn't actually believe what bullshit they were touting.
One of the real gems of the book comes along on just page nine, when Greg, attempting to convince women to be more passive in their love lives, so eloquently says, "You seem to think at times that we're 'too shy' or 'we just got out of something.' Let me remind you: men find it very satisfying to get what they want (particularly after a difficult day of running the world)."
Wow. I don't really think I need to tell you why that made my blood boil. Similarly, he repeatedly says, "Don't let him trick you into asking him out." Did he give you his number, which made you think he might actually want you to call him? YOU'RE SO STUPID, because, as Greg reminds us silly half-witted ladies, "just because you like to lead doesn't mean he wants to dance." So if you like to take charge and demonstrate your interest in a person, too bad, because that means you're desperate and you don't believe you're worth being pursued. Or, as they put it, "You are good enough to be asked out."
While there were many many (I mean MANY) more awful quotes that I could put here, for the sake of brevity I'll limit myself. In the chapter titled he's just not that into you if he doesn't want to marry you, Liz starts off sounding promising, acknowledging that plenty of men, women, and experts in anthropology, psychology and other fields think that marriage is a deeply flawed and outdated institution worth examining. But then she just shits all over her almost intelligent point when she says, "But is that what we're talking about here? Don't let him make you feel stupid about wanting to feel loved." As if marriage was the only way to feel truly loved. As if you needed that badge of a ring and an overpriced ceremony and reception to show the world that goddammit you ARE worth loving.
The one thing I can credit the book with is that is tells you to stop wasting your time on people who do drugs/drink more than you're comfortable with, those who only want to see you when they're shitfaced, those who are other people's spouses (!). But then it takes this message of knowing your own worth and kicks it to the curb by telling you how stupid you over and over for trying to be more active in your love life or being understanding of someone's matrimonial fears or any other supposed dating "sins." It's a sexist piece of crap, bottom line.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Having never seen Sex and the City (yes, never), I don't really give a fuck that this book was written by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo who are, as touted on the cover, a writer and a consultant for SATC. Based on their pictures on the book flap's back cover, Greg is a rapidly aging man with bad hair (I'm talkin' n*sync bad hair) and Liz needs to get outside in the sunshine and perhaps find a similarly less 90s camisole.
The book is horrendously written and poorly edited, full of Greg quipping about how he loves women in their underwear and Liz trying to apologize for Greg but merely repeating what he says (with some false commiseration and repeatedly telling us she's no girly girl and she has no emotions LOOK I'M NOT A BITCH LIKE YOU etc etc). Each chapter is based around another way to tell he's not that into you (if he doesn't ask you out, if he doesn't immediately bone you, and so on) and is based around fake letters written in a style that is deliberately intended to make women sound whiney, stupid and dependent to Greg that he answers in an extraordinarily patronizing tone.
Needless to say, I hated the book. It might've been funny if the authors (and apparently lots of other people too, since it was a #1 NYT best seller) didn't actually believe what bullshit they were touting.
One of the real gems of the book comes along on just page nine, when Greg, attempting to convince women to be more passive in their love lives, so eloquently says, "You seem to think at times that we're 'too shy' or 'we just got out of something.' Let me remind you: men find it very satisfying to get what they want (particularly after a difficult day of running the world)."
Wow. I don't really think I need to tell you why that made my blood boil. Similarly, he repeatedly says, "Don't let him trick you into asking him out." Did he give you his number, which made you think he might actually want you to call him? YOU'RE SO STUPID, because, as Greg reminds us silly half-witted ladies, "just because you like to lead doesn't mean he wants to dance." So if you like to take charge and demonstrate your interest in a person, too bad, because that means you're desperate and you don't believe you're worth being pursued. Or, as they put it, "You are good enough to be asked out."
While there were many many (I mean MANY) more awful quotes that I could put here, for the sake of brevity I'll limit myself. In the chapter titled he's just not that into you if he doesn't want to marry you, Liz starts off sounding promising, acknowledging that plenty of men, women, and experts in anthropology, psychology and other fields think that marriage is a deeply flawed and outdated institution worth examining. But then she just shits all over her almost intelligent point when she says, "But is that what we're talking about here? Don't let him make you feel stupid about wanting to feel loved." As if marriage was the only way to feel truly loved. As if you needed that badge of a ring and an overpriced ceremony and reception to show the world that goddammit you ARE worth loving.
The one thing I can credit the book with is that is tells you to stop wasting your time on people who do drugs/drink more than you're comfortable with, those who only want to see you when they're shitfaced, those who are other people's spouses (!). But then it takes this message of knowing your own worth and kicks it to the curb by telling you how stupid you over and over for trying to be more active in your love life or being understanding of someone's matrimonial fears or any other supposed dating "sins." It's a sexist piece of crap, bottom line.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
The Sweet Life
Right now, my life is pretty sweet because among other things, I am single which means that my emotions are stable and fairly stress-free. This is the first time that I have been single for a long period of time (slightly over a year) since I was 17. In the past four years, I have had two significant, life-changing relationships. And right now, I am overjoyed not to be in one.
My relationship with Ephram lasted about two years from the end of high school to the end of sophomore year at Smith. (This is where my life would make an excellent, although sad, movie.) We fell in love the summer after senior year of high school. We partied, went to the beach; basically spending anytime when I was not working together. Our first semester at school, we decided to have an open relationship because he was going to school in South Carolina and me in Massachusetts (read: 16 hours of driving apart=epic long distance). However, we got back together over Thanksgiving break, after I realized that being with him made me the happiest I've ever been. Over the next 1 1/2 years, we had our good times and bad (this is the montage scene of us alternating fighting and making up). But in January of 2009, he lost his ROTC scholarship and enlisted in the Army. (movie climax here) We broke up in May, after he had been at basic training for a month, and in August, he was stationed in Italy. (Currently, he is serving in Afghanistan.) Last spring, I dealt with the uncertainty of the future, and then last summer/fall dealt with us not being together anymore. (movie resolution) This winter, I finally started to embrace the single life. I had gotten over the epic crisis of breaking up with Ephram and started to see who else was out there. This spring, I lived the casual hooking up phase to the fullest.
If I had to do it all over again, I would. My relationship with Ephram gave me the opportunity to experience so much, and also taught me a ton of shit about love, and myself. I also learned that you cannot control the future, no matter how hard you might try. Although it was fucking hard, I had my heart broken and lived through it. I'm not saying that being single is better than being in a relationship for me or anyone. I think that everyone should have a variety of romantic experiences. But right now, I'm perfectly happy not to be in one. (Although sexually frustrated at times.)
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
My relationship with Ephram lasted about two years from the end of high school to the end of sophomore year at Smith. (This is where my life would make an excellent, although sad, movie.) We fell in love the summer after senior year of high school. We partied, went to the beach; basically spending anytime when I was not working together. Our first semester at school, we decided to have an open relationship because he was going to school in South Carolina and me in Massachusetts (read: 16 hours of driving apart=epic long distance). However, we got back together over Thanksgiving break, after I realized that being with him made me the happiest I've ever been. Over the next 1 1/2 years, we had our good times and bad (this is the montage scene of us alternating fighting and making up). But in January of 2009, he lost his ROTC scholarship and enlisted in the Army. (movie climax here) We broke up in May, after he had been at basic training for a month, and in August, he was stationed in Italy. (Currently, he is serving in Afghanistan.) Last spring, I dealt with the uncertainty of the future, and then last summer/fall dealt with us not being together anymore. (movie resolution) This winter, I finally started to embrace the single life. I had gotten over the epic crisis of breaking up with Ephram and started to see who else was out there. This spring, I lived the casual hooking up phase to the fullest.
If I had to do it all over again, I would. My relationship with Ephram gave me the opportunity to experience so much, and also taught me a ton of shit about love, and myself. I also learned that you cannot control the future, no matter how hard you might try. Although it was fucking hard, I had my heart broken and lived through it. I'm not saying that being single is better than being in a relationship for me or anyone. I think that everyone should have a variety of romantic experiences. But right now, I'm perfectly happy not to be in one. (Although sexually frustrated at times.)
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Sunday, June 27, 2010
misunderstood! or, why the fuck is feminism still a dirty word
I have about a billion other posts that I'm working on, but this one kinda slapped me on the face.
It still, constantly, boggles my mind how people completely stereotype and blatantly misinterpret feminism. It's fine if it's not a term you want to take on yourself (though, to me, that does mean that you do not believe in gender equality). But to totally dismiss the message of a group without even giving the slightest consideration to its possible (gasp) validity confuses me, especially if you are part of the oppressed group that it seeks to help.
A facebook comment stating that "it is very sad the way feminist women treat men" was what sparked this entry. I don't know the person who wrote that at all, but I have to wonder: WHAT feminist women? WHAT treatment exactly are they referring to?
It seems to me that this kind of purposeful ignorance of what feminism is actually about (that little ideal America loves to hype so much called equality, crazy idea that) stems from thinking that it's about dominating men or overthrowing them entirely and keeping them underground and using them only for reproduction or some other ridiculous bullshit. It's about finally reaching equal status.
That doesn't mean I'm crazy or hairy or want a penis. It means I want to be able to walk the streets without fearing for my safety or being harassed no matter what I'm wearing or doing or who I'm with. It means that I expect to have control over my reproductive system and to take control of my life in concert with that as to how many babies I do or do not want. It means that I'd love to never have to have another friend tell me she's been sexually assaulted or raped. It means I expect equal pay for equal work, no excuses. It means I'd love to not see images of women in sexually compromised positions used to advertise clothing.
It means I hold my own and take responsibility for my life instead of depending on a man to provide, and if that means I'm "treating" him badly, fine. Guilty as charged. I personally have found that it makes for better relationships: I don't keep them around because I think I need them but because I actively make the choice to enjoy their companionship. That's more authentic to me than being dependent. But hey, I'm a crazy feminist, right?
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
It still, constantly, boggles my mind how people completely stereotype and blatantly misinterpret feminism. It's fine if it's not a term you want to take on yourself (though, to me, that does mean that you do not believe in gender equality). But to totally dismiss the message of a group without even giving the slightest consideration to its possible (gasp) validity confuses me, especially if you are part of the oppressed group that it seeks to help.
A facebook comment stating that "it is very sad the way feminist women treat men" was what sparked this entry. I don't know the person who wrote that at all, but I have to wonder: WHAT feminist women? WHAT treatment exactly are they referring to?
It seems to me that this kind of purposeful ignorance of what feminism is actually about (that little ideal America loves to hype so much called equality, crazy idea that) stems from thinking that it's about dominating men or overthrowing them entirely and keeping them underground and using them only for reproduction or some other ridiculous bullshit. It's about finally reaching equal status.
That doesn't mean I'm crazy or hairy or want a penis. It means I want to be able to walk the streets without fearing for my safety or being harassed no matter what I'm wearing or doing or who I'm with. It means that I expect to have control over my reproductive system and to take control of my life in concert with that as to how many babies I do or do not want. It means that I'd love to never have to have another friend tell me she's been sexually assaulted or raped. It means I expect equal pay for equal work, no excuses. It means I'd love to not see images of women in sexually compromised positions used to advertise clothing.
It means I hold my own and take responsibility for my life instead of depending on a man to provide, and if that means I'm "treating" him badly, fine. Guilty as charged. I personally have found that it makes for better relationships: I don't keep them around because I think I need them but because I actively make the choice to enjoy their companionship. That's more authentic to me than being dependent. But hey, I'm a crazy feminist, right?
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
naked.
Sometimes, Smith College is exactly what the stereotypes would have you think it is. Well-educated, spunky women sitting around and passionately discussing women's issues...or constantly gittin' nekkid. Last night was a combination of the two (no, it was not an orgy).
I'm lucky enough to have TWO ENTIRE SMITH COLLEGE QUAD HOUSES to myself for a week, a situation that simply begged for a little soiree. Since all two of the men I know that are staying in the area this summer were out of town, the gathering was all female. As the Malibu and fancy pants beer flowed, the Gaga played and hide-and-seek ensued, the idea of streaking surfaced. And it was one of the best things I've done in ages.
My relationship with my naked self has evolved substantially in the past few years: from posing spreadin' my junk for Sexhibition to sleeping naked to showing off my clitoral hood piercing to near strangers, I've challenged myself to move outside my comfort zone and get more comfortable with my body, with no clothes to hide the stretch marks or bacne. And last night's naked streaking and pizza eating was a happy sort of culmination of that.
What was interesting to me is that the body-talk that surfaces around naked college women is so intensely different in tone than it was in high school. A few years ago, it was mostly gym class locker room bemoaning one's flaws and waiting expectantly for the compliments sure to flow, a la Mean Girls ("I wanna lose three pounds." *pause* "NOOOO you're so skinny!"), and while it may have provided a temporary rush (people think I'm hot! omigod!) was also deeply indicative of the heaps of insecurities that most high school girls harbor about their bodies.
But last night, it was so different. It was complimentary and genuine and wonderful; I heard women of all different body types and sizes "Damn! Look at your six pack!" and "You've got a perfect vagina," as well as reassuring that there is no such thing as an ugly boob. There was the revealing of insecurities too (I explained that I remove most of my body hair because it reminds me of lanugo, the downy fuzz my body developed as a survival technique in the worst of my anorexia; someone complained jokingly about having a small chest; one of us talked uber candidly, as is her style, about her crooked vagina), but it wasn't done in the desperate sense of needing to be seen and heard and acknowledged as beautiful. It was stated as a fact, an acceptance of what one is, the good and the bad.
Maybe the booze rose-tinted my experience of this (one girl quietly left in part because it was too much naked for her, so it was not all lovely), but it felt good and safe and lovely to be able to just be with our bodies around each other without the fear of scrutiny or judgment. I'm not sure if that's a reflection of Smith's culture or of our maturity, but I adored it all the same.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
I'm lucky enough to have TWO ENTIRE SMITH COLLEGE QUAD HOUSES to myself for a week, a situation that simply begged for a little soiree. Since all two of the men I know that are staying in the area this summer were out of town, the gathering was all female. As the Malibu and fancy pants beer flowed, the Gaga played and hide-and-seek ensued, the idea of streaking surfaced. And it was one of the best things I've done in ages.
My relationship with my naked self has evolved substantially in the past few years: from posing spreadin' my junk for Sexhibition to sleeping naked to showing off my clitoral hood piercing to near strangers, I've challenged myself to move outside my comfort zone and get more comfortable with my body, with no clothes to hide the stretch marks or bacne. And last night's naked streaking and pizza eating was a happy sort of culmination of that.
What was interesting to me is that the body-talk that surfaces around naked college women is so intensely different in tone than it was in high school. A few years ago, it was mostly gym class locker room bemoaning one's flaws and waiting expectantly for the compliments sure to flow, a la Mean Girls ("I wanna lose three pounds." *pause* "NOOOO you're so skinny!"), and while it may have provided a temporary rush (people think I'm hot! omigod!) was also deeply indicative of the heaps of insecurities that most high school girls harbor about their bodies.
But last night, it was so different. It was complimentary and genuine and wonderful; I heard women of all different body types and sizes "Damn! Look at your six pack!" and "You've got a perfect vagina," as well as reassuring that there is no such thing as an ugly boob. There was the revealing of insecurities too (I explained that I remove most of my body hair because it reminds me of lanugo, the downy fuzz my body developed as a survival technique in the worst of my anorexia; someone complained jokingly about having a small chest; one of us talked uber candidly, as is her style, about her crooked vagina), but it wasn't done in the desperate sense of needing to be seen and heard and acknowledged as beautiful. It was stated as a fact, an acceptance of what one is, the good and the bad.
Maybe the booze rose-tinted my experience of this (one girl quietly left in part because it was too much naked for her, so it was not all lovely), but it felt good and safe and lovely to be able to just be with our bodies around each other without the fear of scrutiny or judgment. I'm not sure if that's a reflection of Smith's culture or of our maturity, but I adored it all the same.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Friday, June 25, 2010
feminist friday links!
Every other blog in the world posts links on Fridays, so why not us (perhaps because I'll forget next week)? If you find a fantastic link related to fucking, feminism, or something similar, post it in the comments section.
Car dealers are still using sexism as a sales tactic...now to beat the recession! How shocking.
This one pissed me off in part because it uses the uber-sophisticated "you-pussy-you-play-like-a-girl" line of thought, but also because that Chiicago Tribune is mocking the Flyers (and while I don't give two shits about hockey, it's nice to see Philly not suck at things (215 represent!).
And finally, insulting gendered iPad ads. Because clearly I'd prefer a badly written romance novel by Nicholas Sparks to the NYT. Thanks Apple for clarifying my desires!
Have a fabulous weekend, ya'll!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Car dealers are still using sexism as a sales tactic...now to beat the recession! How shocking.
This one pissed me off in part because it uses the uber-sophisticated "you-pussy-you-play-like-a-girl" line of thought, but also because that Chiicago Tribune is mocking the Flyers (and while I don't give two shits about hockey, it's nice to see Philly not suck at things (215 represent!).
And finally, insulting gendered iPad ads. Because clearly I'd prefer a badly written romance novel by Nicholas Sparks to the NYT. Thanks Apple for clarifying my desires!
Have a fabulous weekend, ya'll!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Thursday, June 24, 2010
the sheriff's take on love
I don't mean to do my responses to Lady Lola's posts as antagonistic ("Oh, so you think THAT'S what love is about? I'll show you!"), but it's very interesting to me how we both identify as feminists who have (mostly) had romantic relationships with men and yet our ideas about some very basic concepts are worlds apart. And so, the Sheriff's take on love.
I've been in several relationships where I've dropped the "L" bomb, and all of them have been wildly different. But the one common thread I've found is that the desire to put another person wholly before your own well-being is not love, at least not to me. With Beefcake, the last six months of our relationship were awful because I was so sick with my eating disorder, I relied entirely on him for my emotional well-being. I would've sacrificed nearly anything to keep him in my life, and eventually did in the form of lower self-esteem, evaporated self-confidence, the loss of self-respect and social isolation (factors I blame on the anorexia taking over my brain, not his desires). And I wound up losing him in the end anyway, because no one who really cares for you wants you to give up that much of yourself.
Sacrifice smacks to me of unhealthy relationships. You can only resent someone if there is not mutuality in the sacrifice. If you move across the country to a city where you have no friends to take a mediocre job to be with a loved one while they pursue their dreams, this will not help your relationship. It will slit its throat. You will be overly reliant on them, you will suffocate them, you will resent them deeply, you will probably cheat (or want to).
But to me, love means that person truly wanting what's best for you. It might mean bending your plans to accommodate them in your life, but certainly not to the extent that you would be unhappy or lonely or unfulfilled (and not more than they will for you). It means encouraging and bringing out the best in each other, even if that means that they've got to let you pursue your own goals halfway across the world. It means a partnership
Or so I think. What about you, dear readers?
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
I've been in several relationships where I've dropped the "L" bomb, and all of them have been wildly different. But the one common thread I've found is that the desire to put another person wholly before your own well-being is not love, at least not to me. With Beefcake, the last six months of our relationship were awful because I was so sick with my eating disorder, I relied entirely on him for my emotional well-being. I would've sacrificed nearly anything to keep him in my life, and eventually did in the form of lower self-esteem, evaporated self-confidence, the loss of self-respect and social isolation (factors I blame on the anorexia taking over my brain, not his desires). And I wound up losing him in the end anyway, because no one who really cares for you wants you to give up that much of yourself.
Sacrifice smacks to me of unhealthy relationships. You can only resent someone if there is not mutuality in the sacrifice. If you move across the country to a city where you have no friends to take a mediocre job to be with a loved one while they pursue their dreams, this will not help your relationship. It will slit its throat. You will be overly reliant on them, you will suffocate them, you will resent them deeply, you will probably cheat (or want to).
But to me, love means that person truly wanting what's best for you. It might mean bending your plans to accommodate them in your life, but certainly not to the extent that you would be unhappy or lonely or unfulfilled (and not more than they will for you). It means encouraging and bringing out the best in each other, even if that means that they've got to let you pursue your own goals halfway across the world. It means a partnership
Or so I think. What about you, dear readers?
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The "True" Meaning of Love
Reading this book about gender and sexual agency has made me think about love. Some of the interviewees expressed that their friends had sex (esp. unprotected sex) because they thought that their partner loved them and would never leave. So, what does it mean to love someone?
I have said, "I love you" to two very different guys at different points in my life. I loved my first boyfriend, but it was more about comfort and experiencing everything for the first time. I loved him for sharing all of these new experiences with me. The second guy, Ephram, was the passionate, deep-down, life-altering love. At this point, I learned what love meant to me: sacrifice. Love means that you are willing to sacrifice your dreams (or at least truly consider it) to be with someone else. I knew that I truly loved Ephram when I started to attempt to fit Ephram into to all of my life goals. If he didn't fit, I considered changing them. (We are very different people with very different life goals, so this presented some serious problems) However, the universe had other plans for Ephram and me, so we broke up. Thus, it saved me from having to enact those choices, but I still thought to myself, "whoa, you must really LOVE him if you considered that." So, sacrifice...that's what love means to me.
Lots of LOVE,
Lady Lola
I have said, "I love you" to two very different guys at different points in my life. I loved my first boyfriend, but it was more about comfort and experiencing everything for the first time. I loved him for sharing all of these new experiences with me. The second guy, Ephram, was the passionate, deep-down, life-altering love. At this point, I learned what love meant to me: sacrifice. Love means that you are willing to sacrifice your dreams (or at least truly consider it) to be with someone else. I knew that I truly loved Ephram when I started to attempt to fit Ephram into to all of my life goals. If he didn't fit, I considered changing them. (We are very different people with very different life goals, so this presented some serious problems) However, the universe had other plans for Ephram and me, so we broke up. Thus, it saved me from having to enact those choices, but I still thought to myself, "whoa, you must really LOVE him if you considered that." So, sacrifice...that's what love means to me.
Lots of LOVE,
Lady Lola
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
what feminism means to me
I often have arguments with Beefcake about things I see as chauvinistic or exploitative (like Girls Gone Wild or reality shows in which women get naked and act poorly such as Bad Girls Club) and he usually ends his point with, "it's their choice to participate in these things, and isn't that what feminism is all about?"
No. Well, not entirely.
While I stand wholeheartedly behind the idea that every woman (and every intersex person and genderqueer individual and anyone else otherwise unaligned with the gender binary) should be just as free as every man to do whatever she damn well pleases, even if that means taking off her clothes for money (can't lie to you folks, I think about it from time to time as a means to pay back my significant college debt...this feminist consciousness ain't fo free) or otherwise commodifying herself, I also think that those choices are not made in a cultural vacuum and thus she is NOT "as free as a man" when she makes those decisions.
But this idea that feminism is about choice is very seductive because it simplifies things enormously. It is easy to pretend that feminism has served it's purpose that now woman can ostensibly choose more in their own lives.
However, as I said, feminism isn't just about choice. For me, living my feminism means responsibility. It's not sexy, it's not fun, but it's a real gift to be able to take more direction, to refuse to let yourself be victimized (when you can). Obviously, there are situations in which you are not at all responsible (rape, sexual assault, and the wage gap come to mind) but you do have the power to take action and work to change those things, through raising awareness, activism, legislation, etc.
Feminism in action can manifest itself in much smaller, daily ways too, responsible sex being a primary one. Yes, you could choose to not use birth control or to forgo condoms (male or female) during casual sex. But then you set yourself up to be a victim of an unwanted pregnancy or a sexually transmitted disease. While no form of protection is totally effective all of the time and clearly no one wants herpes or a child while they're in college and eatin' ramen, to not take advantage of the tools at your disposal (free condoms, Planned Parenthood) is, to me, showing a lack of respect for yourself. Take pride in keeping yourself safe! Margaret Sanger fought hard for your right to do so, so revel in it, ladies.
And this responsibility of being a strong, empowered woman extends to all arenas of your life. Do your own taxes. Get tested regularly for STDs (on that note, GET YOUR DAMN PELVIC EXAM). Understand your turn ons, and take responsibility for your enjoyment sexually, whatever that means for you. Balance your checkbook. Know how to change a tire and check your oil. Pay your own bills. To put yourself at the mercy of someone else, be it a man or a woman or your parents, and to expect their help sets you up to be incapable of standing on your own two feet when you need to, and trust me, one day you will need to.
Perhaps some of these views are more indicative of my lower middle class upbringing (full of "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" BS) than my feminism, but I see them as complimentary. Both tout an idea of taking care of yourself as best you can, not needing to rely on someone else for help. While there are greater forces at work that oppress lower class people and women (just a few examples: classicism, sexism, patriarchy, absurdly low minimum wage, etc) and to ignore them would be both revisionist history and ignorant, there are things within your control in your life and, for me, taking full control of those aspects of my life has been deeply empowering. I have the right to own a checking account and my own property (the sum total of which is my books and my 1990 Accord named Melvin, but they're all mine) and to ensure my sexual health, and those are all beautiful things. Embrace them!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
No. Well, not entirely.
While I stand wholeheartedly behind the idea that every woman (and every intersex person and genderqueer individual and anyone else otherwise unaligned with the gender binary) should be just as free as every man to do whatever she damn well pleases, even if that means taking off her clothes for money (can't lie to you folks, I think about it from time to time as a means to pay back my significant college debt...this feminist consciousness ain't fo free) or otherwise commodifying herself, I also think that those choices are not made in a cultural vacuum and thus she is NOT "as free as a man" when she makes those decisions.
But this idea that feminism is about choice is very seductive because it simplifies things enormously. It is easy to pretend that feminism has served it's purpose that now woman can ostensibly choose more in their own lives.
However, as I said, feminism isn't just about choice. For me, living my feminism means responsibility. It's not sexy, it's not fun, but it's a real gift to be able to take more direction, to refuse to let yourself be victimized (when you can). Obviously, there are situations in which you are not at all responsible (rape, sexual assault, and the wage gap come to mind) but you do have the power to take action and work to change those things, through raising awareness, activism, legislation, etc.
Feminism in action can manifest itself in much smaller, daily ways too, responsible sex being a primary one. Yes, you could choose to not use birth control or to forgo condoms (male or female) during casual sex. But then you set yourself up to be a victim of an unwanted pregnancy or a sexually transmitted disease. While no form of protection is totally effective all of the time and clearly no one wants herpes or a child while they're in college and eatin' ramen, to not take advantage of the tools at your disposal (free condoms, Planned Parenthood) is, to me, showing a lack of respect for yourself. Take pride in keeping yourself safe! Margaret Sanger fought hard for your right to do so, so revel in it, ladies.
And this responsibility of being a strong, empowered woman extends to all arenas of your life. Do your own taxes. Get tested regularly for STDs (on that note, GET YOUR DAMN PELVIC EXAM). Understand your turn ons, and take responsibility for your enjoyment sexually, whatever that means for you. Balance your checkbook. Know how to change a tire and check your oil. Pay your own bills. To put yourself at the mercy of someone else, be it a man or a woman or your parents, and to expect their help sets you up to be incapable of standing on your own two feet when you need to, and trust me, one day you will need to.
Perhaps some of these views are more indicative of my lower middle class upbringing (full of "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" BS) than my feminism, but I see them as complimentary. Both tout an idea of taking care of yourself as best you can, not needing to rely on someone else for help. While there are greater forces at work that oppress lower class people and women (just a few examples: classicism, sexism, patriarchy, absurdly low minimum wage, etc) and to ignore them would be both revisionist history and ignorant, there are things within your control in your life and, for me, taking full control of those aspects of my life has been deeply empowering. I have the right to own a checking account and my own property (the sum total of which is my books and my 1990 Accord named Melvin, but they're all mine) and to ensure my sexual health, and those are all beautiful things. Embrace them!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Sunday, June 20, 2010
ridin' solo: masturbation
...sorry ya'll, I couldn't resist that title after that Jason Derula song came on the radio earlier.
One of my earliest memories is of me being in the bathtub,probably around three years old, looking at my vagina and touching my clitoris simply because it felt good. I don't think I brought myself to climax until around age ten, but nonetheless, this set the stage for a lifelong love affair with myself.
I'm a big, huge, enormous fan of masturbation, both for myself and for all women. Most men don't seem to need to be encouraged to crank it (a fact that I learned head-on when my then-boyfriend Ram had incredible difficulty getting off during penetrative sex, since he was 20 year old virgin prior to meeting my acquaintanceship, and had grown quite used to his palm, though he did learn to love vagina too), but for women, especially teens, it's shrouded in all this shame and mystery and weirdness, as if responding to natural desires by touching oneself could somehow be a moral short coming. Which is a load of bullshit.
I gotta give the patriarchy props: the linking of sex and morality (as well as food and morality, from the perspective of a recovered anorexic...future blog post coming) was and is one of the most effective tools used culturally and socially to oppress women. When influenced culturally from every direction to believe this, it would take a pretty brave girl (or one who read The Feminine Mystique as a sixth grader, as the precocious young Sheriff did) to claim her sexuality as her own and touch herself if she damn well pleases.
Masturbation has a lot of benefits. Procrastination (or procrasturbation, as it's colloquially termed in college), no STD risk, stress relief, taking all the time you need to reach climax with no worry about a partner or their feelings, relaxation before bed (seriously!) are a few of them. For me, I've found the most beneficial aspect to be the fact that it allowed me to accrue the knowledge early on about what I liked and didn't, and how I wanted to be touched. This made sexual activity much more pleasurable much earlier for me than it did for most girls I knew, since I wasn't just lying back and taking it. I was actively showing my partners and taking matters into my own hands to be sure I enjoyed myself. And taking that active role in my sex life has been one of the most feminist things I've ever done (except for possibly my use of a Diva Cup and my vertical clitoral hood piercing...oh yeah, and attending Smith).
So ladies, men, and everyone else, I encourage you to find out whatpresses your own buttons, no matter how long it's been since you've tried to get yourself off. There's a whole world of amazing sex toys, lubes (warming/cooling/probably radioactive), and erotic material to help get you to cum, so why not take advantage of it?
Much (self) love,
The Albright Sheriff
"Don't deny my sexual agency!"
I started reading this book this week called "Gender and Sexual Agency: How Young People Make Choices about Sex" by a professor at University of Colorado, Colorado Springs. She conducted 83 interviews with people aged 18-23 about their sex lives, chose interviews that were "representative," and published the results. Her whole thing is that the way people define their gender becomes reflected in their sex lives. Example: girls who define feminity as passive and submissive and not sexual, their actions reflect that. Overall, I agree with the professor's analysis but reading the interviews cause major problems. (I don't know if her sample is accurate, but my problem is that their are definitely people in the world who think like this)
Now I'm going to quote from her book:
Juan, a Mexican-American kid, has chosen to remain abstinent b/c he wants sex to be special. His friends are mostly man-whores and he says this about the girls that they try to get with: "If he was really pushy, I know the girl won't go [upstairs with him]. I've seen it done. It's like they [women] can tell something's going to happen. Some guys act really sweet and childish and really nice, around them, but then they try and get them upstairs and they really change."
Qui, a Vietnamese-American kid, has also chosen to remain a virgin b/c of his religious views. "Good" Christians don't bang before marriage and sex is a gift from God to produce children. (If sex is a gift, then it is meant to be ENJOYED.)
He says: "there's a few women in my door and they're very sexually active, and they can just do it with whoever."
Also, he says that he "would probably stop." If a girl asked him while they were hooking up. "Because of, I think that's the right thing to do if she didn't want it. But, then again, I could another guy coming up to mth and saying, 'No, but if she started, then I guess she did want it. But I guess I would argue that she would have the right to change her mind, but then again, I don't know."
Maya, a Mexican-American kid, is also a virgin b/c she doesn't want to get pregnant and have her bf leave her (uh...Wrap it up???)
She says that girls at parties "aren't doing it of their own will. [going upstairs] They are just like 'I guess.' Not really, 'Let's go' more like 'Ok, find, I guess, why not." Later, " Idon't think that the girls want to have sex. Bedcause they know, 'oh I shouldn't because of this and this."
All of these interviews highlight a different point of the problem: Denying female sexual agency. Maya is the worst because she thinks that a woman never wants just sex and only goes "upstairs" in hopes of also getting into a relationship. I say: BULLSHIT and STOP denying my sexuality. When I bring a boy upstairs (which is usually the case, not the other way around), I am in full control of that situation and WANT it to happen. I am not looking for a relationship, just casual sex. That does not make me a slut. The problem is that our society denies female sexuality, so then women think that they have to pretend not to want to go upstairs unless they want to be labelled a slut.
I do plan on trying to email the author, ask why she chose so many virgins and tell her about this blog. It just pains me to read these interviews and think to myself "oh Goodness, people ACTUALLY do think this way."
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Now I'm going to quote from her book:
Juan, a Mexican-American kid, has chosen to remain abstinent b/c he wants sex to be special. His friends are mostly man-whores and he says this about the girls that they try to get with: "If he was really pushy, I know the girl won't go [upstairs with him]. I've seen it done. It's like they [women] can tell something's going to happen. Some guys act really sweet and childish and really nice, around them, but then they try and get them upstairs and they really change."
Qui, a Vietnamese-American kid, has also chosen to remain a virgin b/c of his religious views. "Good" Christians don't bang before marriage and sex is a gift from God to produce children. (If sex is a gift, then it is meant to be ENJOYED.)
He says: "there's a few women in my door and they're very sexually active, and they can just do it with whoever."
Also, he says that he "would probably stop." If a girl asked him while they were hooking up. "Because of, I think that's the right thing to do if she didn't want it. But, then again, I could another guy coming up to mth and saying, 'No, but if she started, then I guess she did want it. But I guess I would argue that she would have the right to change her mind, but then again, I don't know."
Maya, a Mexican-American kid, is also a virgin b/c she doesn't want to get pregnant and have her bf leave her (uh...Wrap it up???)
She says that girls at parties "aren't doing it of their own will. [going upstairs] They are just like 'I guess.' Not really, 'Let's go' more like 'Ok, find, I guess, why not." Later, " Idon't think that the girls want to have sex. Bedcause they know, 'oh I shouldn't because of this and this."
All of these interviews highlight a different point of the problem: Denying female sexual agency. Maya is the worst because she thinks that a woman never wants just sex and only goes "upstairs" in hopes of also getting into a relationship. I say: BULLSHIT and STOP denying my sexuality. When I bring a boy upstairs (which is usually the case, not the other way around), I am in full control of that situation and WANT it to happen. I am not looking for a relationship, just casual sex. That does not make me a slut. The problem is that our society denies female sexuality, so then women think that they have to pretend not to want to go upstairs unless they want to be labelled a slut.
I do plan on trying to email the author, ask why she chose so many virgins and tell her about this blog. It just pains me to read these interviews and think to myself "oh Goodness, people ACTUALLY do think this way."
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Saturday, June 19, 2010
images of women
I recently discovered weheartit.com, a site with free images that's easily searchable. So, for shits and giggles, I decided to run a search on "women" (Also did "feminism" yesterday, which yielded some hilarious and beautiful results). And the results were disturbing.
I chose a random sample of 20 pictures (I searched through 30 pages out of 495, so I'm sure some better ones came up that I did not get to include). Observe how many present women as strong, capable, independent. Contrast that to the number that present us as stupid, over-emotional, only sexual commodities (check how gay women are presented).
Enjoy.
-The Sheriff
Friday, June 18, 2010
not necessarily about fucking or feminism
Click me!
Ten things you can do to help with the oil spill. Even if you don't do anything about it, at least read this.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Ten things you can do to help with the oil spill. Even if you don't do anything about it, at least read this.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
holla back
"Hey baby, what's yo name?"
"DAMN."
"Great tits!"
"I'd eat dinner off that ass!"
"Yeeehaw!"
"Lil office mama!"
And my personal favorite: "You look like you got white boys callin' you fat, but mama, that's alllll good."
I've heard all this and more while simply walking down the streets in Northampton, MA, where men are strangely arrogant and rude while they're safely in their cars (on the street, I think they're a little scared of the feminists). I do not dress particularly provocatively (although cleavage is usually slightly on display, a fact of life when you're dealing with double Ds), and even if I did, that absolutely does not excuse talking to me or any woman in that way.
I'm not sure what exactly men seek to accomplish by yelling absurd shit like this. Never in my life have I seen it be effective. I've never felt the urge, upon being told I've got "beautiful hooters," to jump into a random man's car and blow him or give him my number or do anything more than laugh at how pathetic he is (though if I'm in a bad mood, they usually just get a "fuck you").
What strikes me as awful about this is that, to these men, my body (and the bodies of all women) are up for commentary at any time. It doesn't matter if you're underage or clearly with another female on a date or if you just don't wanna hear it. So what if she's alone and and it's night time and you're making her uncomfortable? So what if she just wanted to stroll peacefully along the street, alone with her thoughts? Naw, that doesn't matter. Harassment knows no bounds! This asshole has got a message to deliver and that is that she's bang-able, an attribute that his opinion is supreme on because, after all, he's a man.
I recently had a male friend who dresses a little hood who said he hated Northampton and complained about being stared at on the street here. It was all I could do to not tear out my hair as I calmly said, "How do you think women feel?" Our bodies, constantly objectified, are always available for commentary to men. Always. Everyone makes their private judgments, fine. But no one has the right to disturb my peace or make me feel my safety could be in danger simply because they want to share those judgments with me. It's a way of asserting dominance, and that's frightening.
I've had people ask me when I've gotten pissed off about this before, isn't it flattering? Doesn't it make you feel pretty? Honestly, truth be told, some days it does. And that makes me a little sick, that I've internalized misogyny to the extent that a man's approval, even expressed in a way I find to be obnoxious, gives me that rush of feeling good, feeling attractive, feeling hot in a way that my friends or even a female partner telling me I look gorgeous never could.
And THAT, my darling readers, is why feminism is still necessary. To prize the approval of a man over the approval of a female is sexism and misogyny, plain and simple. The importance of their opinions has been inflated in our heads, and we've got to fight it! Make your own opinion more important than theirs. You don't need their approval! Though for now, giving them the finger might be the quickest way to deal.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Oldies but Goodies
Yesterday, I was researching Margaret Sanger and her cohorts views about pre-marital sex. In general, the consensus was pre- marital sex is not the best idea b/c men only want one thing (banging) while women need an emotional and physical connection (which is still most of the current discourse). But I wanted to share a few quotes with you guys that I found either hysterical, amazing, or thought-provoking.
The first set comes from Edward Griffith's book "Modern Marriage and Birth Control" published in 1935. Griffith was a British birth control advocate and became a member of many of the groups over there. He argued the women had a right to experience sexual pleasure in marriage (yes!) and that sex was not something dirty or immoral.
"Sex is fundamental to life. Passion is fundamental to sex. If we were devoid of passion we should be uninteresting people."
"Such a harmonious sex life cannot be lived by a couple if they are in constant fear of having children or if they do not both appreciate to the full the natural satisfaction which should be obtained from a properly adjusted sex life."
"Sex is good and wholesome and clean and every effort should be made to keep it so."
"A woman's natural instinct is to fall in love, marry and have a home and children." (I disagree)
"His ultimate desire is for sexual union...he is satisfying all his own immediate needs whereas the girl is not really satisfying hers." (Again, I disagree)
"Nothing is more painful or immoral than sex relationships without sensations."
"Sex relationships without the bond of home and children are for the most part short-lived and doomed to failure." (ehhh)
The next set comes from Margaret Sanger's book "Happiness in Marriage." (You can actually get copies of this one from amazon)
"Chronic constipation is an enemy to beauty." (Context: she spends a chapter telling young ladies that they need to take care of themselves physically and emotionally to attract a man)
"Remember again that a prize lightly won is not highly valued." (Why girls shouldn't bang before marriage, again I disagree)
"They should read together-poetry, novels, book which intensify their sense of the beauty and greatness of life." (Her suggestions instead of banging. Funny how I see similar ideas in abstinence pamphlets today)
"He must remember that this is the culmination of the first period of her life...No normal girl can be considered as not fearful of this novel and crucial experience." (She says this to the man about the wedding night...I disagree that my life is defined by marriage but I do agree that losing your virginity is a crucial experience that can be pretty scary.)
So, things to think about. These guys advocated birth control for married couples to foster a healthy sex life between them. They tried to break the connection b/w sex and procreation, acknowledge female desire and tell women that being passionate and enjoying sex did not make them a prostitute. This shit was radical in the early 1900's when women had no sexual power unless they were whores. However, these guys also worked within the standard definitions of gender and argued for "race betterment." What can I say, history is complicated (and that's why I love it!)
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
The first set comes from Edward Griffith's book "Modern Marriage and Birth Control" published in 1935. Griffith was a British birth control advocate and became a member of many of the groups over there. He argued the women had a right to experience sexual pleasure in marriage (yes!) and that sex was not something dirty or immoral.
"Sex is fundamental to life. Passion is fundamental to sex. If we were devoid of passion we should be uninteresting people."
"Such a harmonious sex life cannot be lived by a couple if they are in constant fear of having children or if they do not both appreciate to the full the natural satisfaction which should be obtained from a properly adjusted sex life."
"Sex is good and wholesome and clean and every effort should be made to keep it so."
"A woman's natural instinct is to fall in love, marry and have a home and children." (I disagree)
"His ultimate desire is for sexual union...he is satisfying all his own immediate needs whereas the girl is not really satisfying hers." (Again, I disagree)
"Nothing is more painful or immoral than sex relationships without sensations."
"Sex relationships without the bond of home and children are for the most part short-lived and doomed to failure." (ehhh)
The next set comes from Margaret Sanger's book "Happiness in Marriage." (You can actually get copies of this one from amazon)
"Chronic constipation is an enemy to beauty." (Context: she spends a chapter telling young ladies that they need to take care of themselves physically and emotionally to attract a man)
"Remember again that a prize lightly won is not highly valued." (Why girls shouldn't bang before marriage, again I disagree)
"They should read together-poetry, novels, book which intensify their sense of the beauty and greatness of life." (Her suggestions instead of banging. Funny how I see similar ideas in abstinence pamphlets today)
"He must remember that this is the culmination of the first period of her life...No normal girl can be considered as not fearful of this novel and crucial experience." (She says this to the man about the wedding night...I disagree that my life is defined by marriage but I do agree that losing your virginity is a crucial experience that can be pretty scary.)
So, things to think about. These guys advocated birth control for married couples to foster a healthy sex life between them. They tried to break the connection b/w sex and procreation, acknowledge female desire and tell women that being passionate and enjoying sex did not make them a prostitute. This shit was radical in the early 1900's when women had no sexual power unless they were whores. However, these guys also worked within the standard definitions of gender and argued for "race betterment." What can I say, history is complicated (and that's why I love it!)
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
spank me, big boy: questionable sex acts for a feminist?
I've been called a lot of things (including "feminazi" by one of my high school teachers), but quiet ain't one of them. I'm awesome at explaining what I want and need, especially in the bedroom. But about a year and a half ago, one of my own sexual quirks stumped me. My then-boyfriend called me "a dirty little whore" in bed while spanking me.
And I loved it.
But how could that be? I was a feminist! Him calling me a whore in any context (even if it was a huge turn on) was wrong, right?
Eh, I don't think so. I wouldn't say being spanked while someone pulls my hair and calls me a bitch is exactly feminism in action. But it is fulfilling my sexual desires in a safe, consensual way. And the only time it's ever made me feel bad is when I think about how I should feel about it, rather than how I do. It's the self-imposed judgment about what my desires "should" look like that caused unpleasant feelings, not the act itself.
That being said, it is an entirely different thing for a random man on the street to call me a whore than a person who I trust and care about. Context (and knowing that he'd stop the moment I told him to) is everything in this case. Never once did this individual call me a whore or bitch outside of the bedroom (if he did, he'd be no longer getting into the bedroom).
I do think there is an inherently powerful, feminist attribute to being able to claim what you desire as legitimate and real and to experience it in a way that feels safe and right for you. And if that means you don't want someone to bend you over and call you a slut, great. "Sensual" sex or making love isn't any higher in some sexual hierarchy than my rough, balls-to-the-wall style (pun most definitely intended). Limiting yourself based on what you think you "should" do rather than what you want is detrimental, whether that you means you think you shouldn't want to be spanked because you're a feminist or that you think you should want to be spanked because your partner thinks it's hot. Do what you want, and reap the orgasmic benefits (I know I do!).
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
PS--how are ya'll feeling the new look?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Oh how far we've come
Before I begin, I apologize that so many of my posts revolve around progress in terms of women's rights, but birth control is my middle name this summer since my internship involves researching the woman who pioneered birth control in America and around the world. Also I'm a history major.
Anyways, today I began my day reading about the campaign to introduce sex education in schools in Sweden during the early 20th century. The RFSU (Swedish Women's Group) argued that children had a right to be taught about sex. (They also fought to decriminalize homosexuality, and claimed that it was okay for two committed people to enjoy sex outside of wedlock, so overall, we like them!) However, they still stayed away from any graphic descriptions of intercourse i.e. no penis in vag talk or really discussed why people have sex for reasons b/c they wanted to young people to maintain their modesty and morality. So the mystery remained until children were "old enough" to engage in sexual activity. As I was reading this, I was listening to what I like to call "ass-dropping booty shaking music" (b/c it helps me concentrate oddly enough) and the song "hypnotized" came on. "You got me so hypnotized the way you're body movin' round and round...tities just bouncin' up and down." Clearly, sex is everywhere in American culture, fairly explicit sex which just amazes me. Today, it is legal for Nate and Serena to essentially bang on prime-time television (w/o actual penis in vag) and it barely causes an eye-brow raising. (Although my mother was a little scandalized). I honestly don't think that either way is better or that sex in the media will irrevocably damage America's youth. I also thoroughly enjoy my sexual freedom. But wow, has society changed since 1900. And yet, right along side the prevalence of sex in the media is that fact that many children still don't receive comprehensive sex education for the same reasons as in 1900. Sometimes, I just have to stop and think about the complex entity that our society has become (since I'm a total nerd).
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Anyways, today I began my day reading about the campaign to introduce sex education in schools in Sweden during the early 20th century. The RFSU (Swedish Women's Group) argued that children had a right to be taught about sex. (They also fought to decriminalize homosexuality, and claimed that it was okay for two committed people to enjoy sex outside of wedlock, so overall, we like them!) However, they still stayed away from any graphic descriptions of intercourse i.e. no penis in vag talk or really discussed why people have sex for reasons b/c they wanted to young people to maintain their modesty and morality. So the mystery remained until children were "old enough" to engage in sexual activity. As I was reading this, I was listening to what I like to call "ass-dropping booty shaking music" (b/c it helps me concentrate oddly enough) and the song "hypnotized" came on. "You got me so hypnotized the way you're body movin' round and round...tities just bouncin' up and down." Clearly, sex is everywhere in American culture, fairly explicit sex which just amazes me. Today, it is legal for Nate and Serena to essentially bang on prime-time television (w/o actual penis in vag) and it barely causes an eye-brow raising. (Although my mother was a little scandalized). I honestly don't think that either way is better or that sex in the media will irrevocably damage America's youth. I also thoroughly enjoy my sexual freedom. But wow, has society changed since 1900. And yet, right along side the prevalence of sex in the media is that fact that many children still don't receive comprehensive sex education for the same reasons as in 1900. Sometimes, I just have to stop and think about the complex entity that our society has become (since I'm a total nerd).
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
The Sheriff's Philosophy
Lady Lola wrote a piece on her new philosophy with men. And while it might have a high accuracy rating, for me, it just doesn't sit well.
First of all, it encourages sexual and romantic passivity on the part of women. Instead of being an active participant, pursuing the people you want to and blowing off (hopefully kindly!) the ones you don't, waiting for a man to contact you gives you so little power over your own situation.
Second of all, you'll get laid WAY LESS OFTEN. This is a SERIOUS DRAWBACK (requiring all-caps!) to Lola's philosophy. Now, some people are not all about the sex. They probably do not write on, read, or care about this blog very much, and thus are not my intended audience. So this might not matter to them. But for the rest of us, by displaying an interest, whether it's a smile or boldly sending the first text, showing you want the other person is a huge aphrodisiac. Albright House jokes that I have a beer flavored vagina with my capacity to get it, and often (disclaimer: I'm pretty sure it's a normal vagina, genital piercing aside. And I hate beer), but I honestly chalk it up to the fact that I'm not scared to be the one to put myself out there (though it could also be my awesome rack).
Third, it puts you in the position of being the one to choose. Don't feel like seeing what's-their-face after the bloody nose while eating you out fiasco (this has actually happened to me)? Booty call someone else! Or go out and meet new people! Or stay home with your vibrator/hand/dildo/whatever gets your rocks off.
Sometimes, at a women's college like Smith, if you're looking for cock (or more eloquently, "male companionship"), it can feel like you have no options, and you'll take the first man that shows you positive attention, yet you don't want to seem like a desperate Smithie with the Smith Goggles (this refers to the phenomenon in which smart, lovely women hook up with skeevy creepers at Quad parties, or in Amherst thanks to the PVTA [the public bus system that technically stands for Pioneer Valley Transport Authority, but which really means Pushing Vagina Towards Amherst]).
The Sheriff's solution? Be open to everyone. Smile at people. Talk to them, get their number. You never know when it might come in handy, either for banging or help on an obscure research project or a place to party at UMass.
And you know what? It works. I have rarely, if ever, had a problem getting action when I wanted to, which I credit less to my awesome chest than to my fearless attitude. Nothing, not even sex, will drop in your lap without a little work (most of the time...), so it's worth it to figure out how comfortable you feel being the one to initiate. I know some people are shy and need lessons sexting (Fairies, I'm looking at some of you!), but getting your ego burned by someone who has other interests isn't the most tragic thing in the world. It's just a booty call! Don't be scared. They'd probably be a bad lay anyway!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
First of all, it encourages sexual and romantic passivity on the part of women. Instead of being an active participant, pursuing the people you want to and blowing off (hopefully kindly!) the ones you don't, waiting for a man to contact you gives you so little power over your own situation.
Second of all, you'll get laid WAY LESS OFTEN. This is a SERIOUS DRAWBACK (requiring all-caps!) to Lola's philosophy. Now, some people are not all about the sex. They probably do not write on, read, or care about this blog very much, and thus are not my intended audience. So this might not matter to them. But for the rest of us, by displaying an interest, whether it's a smile or boldly sending the first text, showing you want the other person is a huge aphrodisiac. Albright House jokes that I have a beer flavored vagina with my capacity to get it, and often (disclaimer: I'm pretty sure it's a normal vagina, genital piercing aside. And I hate beer), but I honestly chalk it up to the fact that I'm not scared to be the one to put myself out there (though it could also be my awesome rack).
Third, it puts you in the position of being the one to choose. Don't feel like seeing what's-their-face after the bloody nose while eating you out fiasco (this has actually happened to me)? Booty call someone else! Or go out and meet new people! Or stay home with your vibrator/hand/dildo/whatever gets your rocks off.
Sometimes, at a women's college like Smith, if you're looking for cock (or more eloquently, "male companionship"), it can feel like you have no options, and you'll take the first man that shows you positive attention, yet you don't want to seem like a desperate Smithie with the Smith Goggles (this refers to the phenomenon in which smart, lovely women hook up with skeevy creepers at Quad parties, or in Amherst thanks to the PVTA [the public bus system that technically stands for Pioneer Valley Transport Authority, but which really means Pushing Vagina Towards Amherst]).
The Sheriff's solution? Be open to everyone. Smile at people. Talk to them, get their number. You never know when it might come in handy, either for banging or help on an obscure research project or a place to party at UMass.
And you know what? It works. I have rarely, if ever, had a problem getting action when I wanted to, which I credit less to my awesome chest than to my fearless attitude. Nothing, not even sex, will drop in your lap without a little work (most of the time...), so it's worth it to figure out how comfortable you feel being the one to initiate. I know some people are shy and need lessons sexting (Fairies, I'm looking at some of you!), but getting your ego burned by someone who has other interests isn't the most tragic thing in the world. It's just a booty call! Don't be scared. They'd probably be a bad lay anyway!
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Monday, June 14, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
And that's my new philosophy
Over the past few months, I have developed a new policy about relations with men: a man will call you if and when he wants to see you. You should not call him unless he has already called you a few times (thus expressing his desire to see you). It sounds simple, but its much harder to do than it sounds. On a feminist level, I dislike my own policy because it takes the power away from me. However (and unfortunately), it works (almost every time).
I came to this realization after an epic fail one spring evening. A few months ago, a friend and I decided to visit her friends at a local university and party there. Overall, it was a great night. We went to an improv club, a party, and I got some from "Chuck." I did not get "Chuck's number" nor did he ask for mine because it was only a one-night thing. However, I did facebook friend him the next day which was mistake number one. A few weeks later, I was out with friends, drank too much and decided that it would be a good idea to fb message chuck, asking him if he would like to repeat the experience (read: booty call). I woke up the next morning immediately thinking "oh shit." But to my surprise, he replied two days later, asking me if I would like to come visit him that night. I probably shouldn't have gone, because it made me look too desperate, but I thought "what's a two hour drive for a booty call?" So I drove there, and met up with him. After eating and watching a movie, Chuck turns to me and says "I think you have the wrong idea about me. I like you and think you're cool, but I only like you as a friend." I said "but you're a man-whore." My friend's friend had told us about his escapades, and this statement didn't jive with the information I knew about him (albeit through the grape-vine but still). He said that my friend's friend was mistaken. Regardless of his statements, the point is that my booty call failed, but I learned a valuable lesson. Don't contact men, if they want to see you, they will contact you.
I know that this policy sounds a little "he's just not that into you" and honestly, it is. But it works. At another party, I gave my number to a kid, and he texted me three days later. I admit that I don't like it. I wish that girl could call a boy and she can, just not the first time (in my experience). But once he does call you, you know that he's into you which "puts the ball in your court." I know that this policy puts a lot of pressure on the man. "What if he's too nervous to call you?" But men out there: How many times have you been into a girl and not called her? So, I'm sticking to this policy until I find a better one.
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
I came to this realization after an epic fail one spring evening. A few months ago, a friend and I decided to visit her friends at a local university and party there. Overall, it was a great night. We went to an improv club, a party, and I got some from "Chuck." I did not get "Chuck's number" nor did he ask for mine because it was only a one-night thing. However, I did facebook friend him the next day which was mistake number one. A few weeks later, I was out with friends, drank too much and decided that it would be a good idea to fb message chuck, asking him if he would like to repeat the experience (read: booty call). I woke up the next morning immediately thinking "oh shit." But to my surprise, he replied two days later, asking me if I would like to come visit him that night. I probably shouldn't have gone, because it made me look too desperate, but I thought "what's a two hour drive for a booty call?" So I drove there, and met up with him. After eating and watching a movie, Chuck turns to me and says "I think you have the wrong idea about me. I like you and think you're cool, but I only like you as a friend." I said "but you're a man-whore." My friend's friend had told us about his escapades, and this statement didn't jive with the information I knew about him (albeit through the grape-vine but still). He said that my friend's friend was mistaken. Regardless of his statements, the point is that my booty call failed, but I learned a valuable lesson. Don't contact men, if they want to see you, they will contact you.
I know that this policy sounds a little "he's just not that into you" and honestly, it is. But it works. At another party, I gave my number to a kid, and he texted me three days later. I admit that I don't like it. I wish that girl could call a boy and she can, just not the first time (in my experience). But once he does call you, you know that he's into you which "puts the ball in your court." I know that this policy puts a lot of pressure on the man. "What if he's too nervous to call you?" But men out there: How many times have you been into a girl and not called her? So, I'm sticking to this policy until I find a better one.
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
three, tres, drei, trois
Lately most of my posts have veered toward the serious in topic, which is great and all (I've been reading the ten books about sex and feminism that I bought on Amazon...perhaps that's an influence?), but a little lighthearted, sex-advicey piece feels more appropriate today.
So children, let's talk about threesomes.
Threesomes can range from the sublime (pleasure from all angles!) to the ridiculously awkward (one man rubbing another man's cum into my back as if it were nice massage oil!). They allow you a safe space (ideally) to act out a fantasy, to please two people at once or to be pampered by two people at once (which is possibly the most incredible thing I've ever experienced, save for Herrel's chocolate whip cream). Group sex was likely what convinced Beefcake to give a relationship a try, that not all relationships were suffocatingly close and sexually dull (it didn't hurt that it involved an Eastern European girl, I'm sure). They give you a sense of validation (TWO people want me? AWESOME!) but if your heart's not in it and you're doing it more for your partner, you risk feeling even worse afterward.
Unfortunately, for women, threesomes are becoming more de riguer than strange experimental sex act (while I don't think they're as common as, say, missionary position, they're no longer relegated to freaky things that you should be ashamed of, though it is interpreted as an indication of a certain sexual permissiveness and adventurous attitude). And that's fantastic if it's something you'd like to explore. But if it's not, and you're only trying it for your partner and to satisfy their fantasies, the whole experience could be uncomfortable and feel like you're being pressured into something. In the performance vs pleasure dichotomy, you choose performance to make the other person happy, even if it means a queasy stomach during the whole process. A threesome shouldn't be seen as a gift for just the man or just one person; it should be about all of you enjoying yourselves. It's similar to all of those (ridiculous, repetitive, downright STUPID) articles in Cosmo and the like touting "50 New Ways to Please Your Man!" Who said I was with a man? And Cosmo, what about my pleasure?
There is ample pleasure to be had in a threesome if it is something you actually want to do. If you're just doing it for someone else and have no real desire to indulge in it, you might surprise yourself and find it to be a turn on...or you might hate it. The most important thing with threesomes (and all sex, honestly) is to know what you like. Sometimes, this can only be found through experimentation, but if the very idea of something makes you feel like you wanna vom, perhaps it's best to keep that relegated to your partner's fantasies and to focus on something that both turns you on and gives you a sense of sexual empowerment of knowing what you enjoy and how to get it.
You also need to be able to communicate what you like. No one can read your mind (although maybe I should try fucking a psychic before I make that allegation); use your words, you're a big girl! Tell them what you want, or at the very least, guide their hand, tongue, vibrator, whatever, to where you want it to be. This is especially important with threesomes, where you're most likely to suffer simply from over stimulation (not literally, most of the time), because there's two people to attend to and your own enjoyment can get lost in the mix.
It's also important to take stock of how you feel about yourself, especially if you're bringing another woman into the bedroom. Do you have low self-esteem? Do you feel self-conscious naked? Do you constantly compare your appearance to that of other women to see how you rank? If any of those questions ring a bell for you, it might be best to not necessarily seek out the "hottest" woman to join you in bed, but to find someone you genuinely feel comfortable around. It can also be nice to have someone new who touches you as if you're a goddess, especially if you've been a relationship for a long time and that sense of "OMG I'm so lucky this person wants to be naked around me" fades. If they make you feel gorgeous and relaxed, the experience will be that much more pleasurable and you can focus on how good it feels instead of wondering if they noticed your stretch marks or stomach fat or [insert female body insecurity here].
And of course, be safe. But that's a fucking no brainer, right guys? Condoms aren't expensive, but a baby or living with herpes certainly would be.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
So children, let's talk about threesomes.
Threesomes can range from the sublime (pleasure from all angles!) to the ridiculously awkward (one man rubbing another man's cum into my back as if it were nice massage oil!). They allow you a safe space (ideally) to act out a fantasy, to please two people at once or to be pampered by two people at once (which is possibly the most incredible thing I've ever experienced, save for Herrel's chocolate whip cream). Group sex was likely what convinced Beefcake to give a relationship a try, that not all relationships were suffocatingly close and sexually dull (it didn't hurt that it involved an Eastern European girl, I'm sure). They give you a sense of validation (TWO people want me? AWESOME!) but if your heart's not in it and you're doing it more for your partner, you risk feeling even worse afterward.
Unfortunately, for women, threesomes are becoming more de riguer than strange experimental sex act (while I don't think they're as common as, say, missionary position, they're no longer relegated to freaky things that you should be ashamed of, though it is interpreted as an indication of a certain sexual permissiveness and adventurous attitude). And that's fantastic if it's something you'd like to explore. But if it's not, and you're only trying it for your partner and to satisfy their fantasies, the whole experience could be uncomfortable and feel like you're being pressured into something. In the performance vs pleasure dichotomy, you choose performance to make the other person happy, even if it means a queasy stomach during the whole process. A threesome shouldn't be seen as a gift for just the man or just one person; it should be about all of you enjoying yourselves. It's similar to all of those (ridiculous, repetitive, downright STUPID) articles in Cosmo and the like touting "50 New Ways to Please Your Man!" Who said I was with a man? And Cosmo, what about my pleasure?
There is ample pleasure to be had in a threesome if it is something you actually want to do. If you're just doing it for someone else and have no real desire to indulge in it, you might surprise yourself and find it to be a turn on...or you might hate it. The most important thing with threesomes (and all sex, honestly) is to know what you like. Sometimes, this can only be found through experimentation, but if the very idea of something makes you feel like you wanna vom, perhaps it's best to keep that relegated to your partner's fantasies and to focus on something that both turns you on and gives you a sense of sexual empowerment of knowing what you enjoy and how to get it.
You also need to be able to communicate what you like. No one can read your mind (although maybe I should try fucking a psychic before I make that allegation); use your words, you're a big girl! Tell them what you want, or at the very least, guide their hand, tongue, vibrator, whatever, to where you want it to be. This is especially important with threesomes, where you're most likely to suffer simply from over stimulation (not literally, most of the time), because there's two people to attend to and your own enjoyment can get lost in the mix.
It's also important to take stock of how you feel about yourself, especially if you're bringing another woman into the bedroom. Do you have low self-esteem? Do you feel self-conscious naked? Do you constantly compare your appearance to that of other women to see how you rank? If any of those questions ring a bell for you, it might be best to not necessarily seek out the "hottest" woman to join you in bed, but to find someone you genuinely feel comfortable around. It can also be nice to have someone new who touches you as if you're a goddess, especially if you've been a relationship for a long time and that sense of "OMG I'm so lucky this person wants to be naked around me" fades. If they make you feel gorgeous and relaxed, the experience will be that much more pleasurable and you can focus on how good it feels instead of wondering if they noticed your stretch marks or stomach fat or [insert female body insecurity here].
And of course, be safe. But that's a fucking no brainer, right guys? Condoms aren't expensive, but a baby or living with herpes certainly would be.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Saturday, June 12, 2010
lil freak or SLUG?: bisexuality and the college scene
If you read this blog with any regularity, you know I'm bi (though pan is the more politically correct term and truly means the same for my personal intents and purposes, bi just feels comfortable for me). I've known since probably sixth grade, but growing up in Pennsyltucky, didn't exactly have the discourse or safe space available to me to explain what that meant for me and as such am out to almost everyone except for my family. I've been romantically and sexually involved with both men and women, though thanks to my overwhelmingly femme hetero appearance, it's mostly been the menfolk. I've had my share of threesomes of all combinations, and in fact rung in the New Year and Christmas with them (they can be awesome...perhaps a post of that to follow).
But despite the threesome perks, bisexuality has a tendency to bring out reactions in people that, for lack of a better word, SUCK. The two that come to mind most prominently for me are the hardcore Smithies and unfortunately many hetero men (not all, mind you, but a lot!).
SLUG is one of those many acronyms common to the Smith vernacular, and gets tossed around constantly, especially first year. It stands for Smith Lesbian Until Graduation, which is what many people identifying as bi (especially if you don't come out as soon as you are accepted into Smith) are often brushed off as. But that's absolutely RIDICULOUS. I know much of Smith is composed of uber-wealthy people from liberal accepting metropolitan areas, but for many of the rest of us, coming out at home (whether as gay, bi, trans, whatever) wasn't necessarily a great choice, either for social cohesion or actual safety.
Brushing off bisexuality as "SLUG-ing" because it's the only option around takes away a person's agency to experiment sexually. I'm of the opinion, like Kinsey, that very few people are TOTALLY gay or straight, that we're all shades of grey bisexuality (that sounds like a hipster band...), and that everyone varies to the extent at which they feel comfortable acknowledging or feeling or acting on those desires. Smith, with its tolerant and gay happy vibe, is the perfect venue in which to experiment with those desires and feelings. I've known many "straight" women here who fell in love with a woman here, though they might never love another female again. Does that make them gay? Bi? Bored? Can they "pass" as straight more easily, and thus not experience gay discrimination? WHO CARES. I will probably never know what it's like to face real discrimination for my sexuality (I did the queer haircut waaay back in 8th grade and concluded it was not for me...my girl J writes here about gay/femmes/hair), but that doesn't make my feelings and sexuality arbitrary. By cutting these people out of the gay culture and rights movement, we undermine only ourselves and our progress. IT'S WHAT THE CONSERVATIVES WANT.
Now. Onto men. I could save myself the time typing a rant about men and how their perceive bisexuality as something that's theirs to manipulate and enjoy for their sexual entertainment by just posting the lyrics to Usher's "Lil Freak" (featuring Niki Minaj, a real live bisexual!), but I'd like to flesh it out myself.
Nearly every het man I've ever met who I've talked to about my sexuality is immediately at least twice as interested and suddenly full of questions (it has crossed my mind to simply NOT share that about myself, but that's ridiculous. Why should I hide a chunk of who I am so as to not be harassed? Perhaps you could STOP harassing? Idealistic, I know). I met a fella at a house party last night who participated in this exact phenomenon. Oh, you're a bisexual (A bisexual? What the fuck? Are you A hetero?). You like threesomes?
Yes, yes I do. But not with anyone so vile as to ask me about them prior to knowing any proper information about who I am. Many (again, not all) hetero men immediately see this as a golden opportunity, as if I'm (and most bi women) their "lil freak" as Usher would say, ready and eager to please him and letting him dictate the moves. They try to take something that is mine, my sexuality, and make it theirs for their own pleasure. It's just another thing for them to dominate. Even men I've been in relationships with have occasionally seen it as something to brag about, as if they'd achieved something important in finding a woman with long hair who liked both pussy and cock. If I volunteer that information or readily pursue a threesome, wonderful. But I fuck who I want, when I want. And if you're acting vulgar about it the minute we meet, count yourself out.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
But despite the threesome perks, bisexuality has a tendency to bring out reactions in people that, for lack of a better word, SUCK. The two that come to mind most prominently for me are the hardcore Smithies and unfortunately many hetero men (not all, mind you, but a lot!).
SLUG is one of those many acronyms common to the Smith vernacular, and gets tossed around constantly, especially first year. It stands for Smith Lesbian Until Graduation, which is what many people identifying as bi (especially if you don't come out as soon as you are accepted into Smith) are often brushed off as. But that's absolutely RIDICULOUS. I know much of Smith is composed of uber-wealthy people from liberal accepting metropolitan areas, but for many of the rest of us, coming out at home (whether as gay, bi, trans, whatever) wasn't necessarily a great choice, either for social cohesion or actual safety.
Brushing off bisexuality as "SLUG-ing" because it's the only option around takes away a person's agency to experiment sexually. I'm of the opinion, like Kinsey, that very few people are TOTALLY gay or straight, that we're all shades of grey bisexuality (that sounds like a hipster band...), and that everyone varies to the extent at which they feel comfortable acknowledging or feeling or acting on those desires. Smith, with its tolerant and gay happy vibe, is the perfect venue in which to experiment with those desires and feelings. I've known many "straight" women here who fell in love with a woman here, though they might never love another female again. Does that make them gay? Bi? Bored? Can they "pass" as straight more easily, and thus not experience gay discrimination? WHO CARES. I will probably never know what it's like to face real discrimination for my sexuality (I did the queer haircut waaay back in 8th grade and concluded it was not for me...my girl J writes here about gay/femmes/hair), but that doesn't make my feelings and sexuality arbitrary. By cutting these people out of the gay culture and rights movement, we undermine only ourselves and our progress. IT'S WHAT THE CONSERVATIVES WANT.
Now. Onto men. I could save myself the time typing a rant about men and how their perceive bisexuality as something that's theirs to manipulate and enjoy for their sexual entertainment by just posting the lyrics to Usher's "Lil Freak" (featuring Niki Minaj, a real live bisexual!), but I'd like to flesh it out myself.
Nearly every het man I've ever met who I've talked to about my sexuality is immediately at least twice as interested and suddenly full of questions (it has crossed my mind to simply NOT share that about myself, but that's ridiculous. Why should I hide a chunk of who I am so as to not be harassed? Perhaps you could STOP harassing? Idealistic, I know). I met a fella at a house party last night who participated in this exact phenomenon. Oh, you're a bisexual (A bisexual? What the fuck? Are you A hetero?). You like threesomes?
Yes, yes I do. But not with anyone so vile as to ask me about them prior to knowing any proper information about who I am. Many (again, not all) hetero men immediately see this as a golden opportunity, as if I'm (and most bi women) their "lil freak" as Usher would say, ready and eager to please him and letting him dictate the moves. They try to take something that is mine, my sexuality, and make it theirs for their own pleasure. It's just another thing for them to dominate. Even men I've been in relationships with have occasionally seen it as something to brag about, as if they'd achieved something important in finding a woman with long hair who liked both pussy and cock. If I volunteer that information or readily pursue a threesome, wonderful. But I fuck who I want, when I want. And if you're acting vulgar about it the minute we meet, count yourself out.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Thursday, June 10, 2010
A picture is worth a thousand words
Yesterday, I was at Harry Potter's house after work, where his brother was immersed in a video game. Personally, I'm not much of an enthusiast, mostly for the usually violent nature of today's games, though my lack of decent hand-eye coordination plays a large part too. But yesterday made me dislike the activity for another reason...
I couldn't tell you what game Little Brother was playing; it was war-based in nature, with very detailed graphics and very serious ammunition. But what disturbed me specifically was the depiction of women in the storyline. They were highly sexualized; attire was skimpy and revealing, DD's were a recurring theme, and during segments where characters had pre-programmed exchanges, the camera looked on from peeping-tom angles (I kid you not--there was one shot of a female character from the floor beneath her that suggestively panned up the back of her legs and all the way up under her miniskirt--gross.) This particular character was the helpless victim of the storyline, constantly needing rescuing and protection; it was belittling. Don't lie around helplessly while you wait for macho-man to rescue you--save your own damn skin, and for goodness sake, do it with your shirt buttoned over your boobs! (Even more youth-friendly games send the damsel-in-distress message. Take Mario Galaxy for instance--Princess Peach is kidnapped, so Mario embarks on a [less violent] quest to save her. Hey, if you're going to send a certain implicit message to viewers, you'd better start 'em young! Ugh.)
Even more disturbing in Little Brother's game was the treatment of the second female character when she made her appearance in the game. Here was the enemy, dressed in a skintight suit that emphasized every curve (including a not-at-all-concealed camel toe; thank you, detailed video game graphics, for showing off what doesn't need to be put on display). The player's mission? To kill her, like the other foes of the game. Yet while other opponents were mowed down under one round of AK-whatever fire, it took multiple attempts to kill off this character--all while she was on the floor, crying for mercy. It was sickening to watch.
But why should I get upset over what I saw? After all, it's just a game, right?
There's plenty of debate surrounding video games; do explicitly violent games desensitize children/teens/players of any age to violence, and/or do these games make players more prone to violent acts themselves? It's a legitimate concern. But amidst all this hype, I hope that the implicit messages aren't overlooked--they are just as damaging.
Teach peace,
La Femme Nikita
I couldn't tell you what game Little Brother was playing; it was war-based in nature, with very detailed graphics and very serious ammunition. But what disturbed me specifically was the depiction of women in the storyline. They were highly sexualized; attire was skimpy and revealing, DD's were a recurring theme, and during segments where characters had pre-programmed exchanges, the camera looked on from peeping-tom angles (I kid you not--there was one shot of a female character from the floor beneath her that suggestively panned up the back of her legs and all the way up under her miniskirt--gross.) This particular character was the helpless victim of the storyline, constantly needing rescuing and protection; it was belittling. Don't lie around helplessly while you wait for macho-man to rescue you--save your own damn skin, and for goodness sake, do it with your shirt buttoned over your boobs! (Even more youth-friendly games send the damsel-in-distress message. Take Mario Galaxy for instance--Princess Peach is kidnapped, so Mario embarks on a [less violent] quest to save her. Hey, if you're going to send a certain implicit message to viewers, you'd better start 'em young! Ugh.)
Even more disturbing in Little Brother's game was the treatment of the second female character when she made her appearance in the game. Here was the enemy, dressed in a skintight suit that emphasized every curve (including a not-at-all-concealed camel toe; thank you, detailed video game graphics, for showing off what doesn't need to be put on display). The player's mission? To kill her, like the other foes of the game. Yet while other opponents were mowed down under one round of AK-whatever fire, it took multiple attempts to kill off this character--all while she was on the floor, crying for mercy. It was sickening to watch.
But why should I get upset over what I saw? After all, it's just a game, right?
There's plenty of debate surrounding video games; do explicitly violent games desensitize children/teens/players of any age to violence, and/or do these games make players more prone to violent acts themselves? It's a legitimate concern. But amidst all this hype, I hope that the implicit messages aren't overlooked--they are just as damaging.
Teach peace,
La Femme Nikita
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Vagina Teeth
I was reading the "MetroNews" paper this morning (crappy paper handed out at subway stations like "Express" in DC) but I discovered this article: "African doctor's anti-rape condom has teeth, critics." A female doctor in South Africa has invented a female condom which has tiny hooks that attached themselves to a rapist's penis and can only be removed in a hospital. The hooks do not cut the attackers skin (somehow I don't exactly understand how this works) which reduces the chances of HIV. Dr. Sonnet Ehlers who invented the condom said that "she was inspired by a rape victim who told her: 'If only I had teeth down there.'" "Dr. Ehlers says the device is vital to help women who in a country with one of the highest rates of rape in the world. A survey by South Africa's Medical Council found that 1 in 4 women in the country say they have been raped." Criticism: "Women would have to wear this every minute of their lives on the off-chance that they would be raped,' said Lisa Vetten, from the South African Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation.
Personally, I'm on the fence. On the one hand, the device could reduce the number of rape victims during times of conflict where rape is used as a systematic way to defeat the will power of another group (once men lose control of their women, what do they have really?). For example, in the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo), millions of women have been raped by forces on all sides, to the point that that now they can't leave their homes without fear of attack. This device would give them back their independence and sense of control. However, this is only a short-term solution. Rather than treating the symptoms, we need to treat the disease. We need to address the problems in society that cause such a high rate of violence against women, primarily the belief that men have a right to dominate women. Women have been identified as the means through which a population continues, so if you attack the women, you break the people. Men need to acknowledge that they have an equal stake in society b/c it takes two people to make a new person. Overall, the question is "does the device give women a sense of power and control over their bodies or does it only breed fear of all men? Honestly, I just don't know.
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Personally, I'm on the fence. On the one hand, the device could reduce the number of rape victims during times of conflict where rape is used as a systematic way to defeat the will power of another group (once men lose control of their women, what do they have really?). For example, in the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo), millions of women have been raped by forces on all sides, to the point that that now they can't leave their homes without fear of attack. This device would give them back their independence and sense of control. However, this is only a short-term solution. Rather than treating the symptoms, we need to treat the disease. We need to address the problems in society that cause such a high rate of violence against women, primarily the belief that men have a right to dominate women. Women have been identified as the means through which a population continues, so if you attack the women, you break the people. Men need to acknowledge that they have an equal stake in society b/c it takes two people to make a new person. Overall, the question is "does the device give women a sense of power and control over their bodies or does it only breed fear of all men? Honestly, I just don't know.
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Strut your stuff
During finals week, my procrastination-obsession quickly became Texts From Last Night. I mean seriously, how can you not become an instant addict?? Some of the texts on there are pee-your-pants hilarious. Anyway, one of the most recurrent themes throughout TFLN's posts is the ever-infamous "walk of shame."
Yet in the spirit of our blog, what exactly is so shameful about the morning following an evening of sexual empowerment? Is there some unspoken switch that flips in the early morning hours that transforms the previous night's conquest into something disgraceful? (Exhibit A: (630) Just saw two girls doing a walk of shame together. Slut bonding at it's best.) Um, excuse me? Slut bonding???
Furthermore, how often do you hear of a man's morning-after departure as an embarrassing escape? Rarely. (Exhibit B: (571) I think I just witnessed the elusive male walk of shame).
Just a little food for thought...
Love,
La Femme Nikita
Yet in the spirit of our blog, what exactly is so shameful about the morning following an evening of sexual empowerment? Is there some unspoken switch that flips in the early morning hours that transforms the previous night's conquest into something disgraceful? (Exhibit A: (630) Just saw two girls doing a walk of shame together. Slut bonding at it's best.) Um, excuse me? Slut bonding???
Furthermore, how often do you hear of a man's morning-after departure as an embarrassing escape? Rarely. (Exhibit B: (571) I think I just witnessed the elusive male walk of shame).
Just a little food for thought...
Love,
La Femme Nikita
motherhood
Last night after work, I was attempting to relax while mindlessly flipping through this month's Marie Claire (in my defense, sometimes they write good pieces about international women's issues! But they also published a piece by Lori Gottileb, author of Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough, a moderately horrifying book). I came across a fact in their article on birth control that literally made me gasp.
By age 30, almost 90 percent of a woman's eggs are done. By 40, a full 97 percent have disappeared (according to a January study from University of St. Andrews and Edinburgh University in Scotland).
I just felt the first tick of my biological clock. Immediately I began to worry: 30?! I've only got nine years! What if I wind up totally infertile? What if I can never participate in birth? Or motherhood? Sure, I could adopt. But what if I miss my chance?
It's a testament to the strength of the myth that motherhood completes a woman that an avowed feminist who might not even want kids such as myself (in my senior yearbook blurb, I wrote "I plan to be fabulous, take over the world, find someone I love waking up next to everyday, and not have babies." Seriously) still feels these socially-induced knee jerk reactions to facts like that.
What bothers me about the way motherhood is perceived is that it's not really seen as a choice. Sure, you could choose to not have kids. But what's wrong with you? Couldn't find anyone to knock you up? Or are you just that selfish? I've heard all of these and more when I tell people I don't think I want kids (or I'll have at least four. Ask me why sometime, I have a rational reason). I think my favorite one is the total dismissal of my desire to perhaps not have kids as illegitimate: "Oh, you'll change your mind." Really? When? After I get bombarded with more media reports on how my fertility is fast disappearing and how much harder birth will be on my older body (because we all know more mature women aren't good for anything since they've lost their sex appeal!). It's disgusting.
And if you do choose to have children, you'll only face tons of articles and studies about how you're doing it wrong, with the myth of "perfect" motherhood glimmering in the distance just beyond your sleep-deprived, over-worked and under-appreciated reach. Stay-at-home mom? You will be judged for not "doing it all," or will be assumed to have given up your dreams (or if you're a woman of color, you'll be cast as a "welfare queen"). Work outside the home? Obviously, you're neglecting your kids and they'll begin to resent you as soon as you put them into daycare. And if you dare to out-earn your male partner (you do have a male partner, don't you? Side note break from the sarcasm: this makes me deeply happy!), you're emasculating hubby and rendering him impotent and that can't be good for the baby. And it is about the baby after all, isn't it?
All these are (slightly exaggerated) social attitudes women face about children, and they're sexist. Plain and simple. Men who choose not to have children or marry are sexy independent bachelors; women who do so are selfish or bitches or spinsters or old maids. Why? Because social attitudes are usually shaped by middle class straight white dudes, people who (whether they mean to or know it or not) are deeply invested in maintaining rigid gender roles. What better way to do that than to make women feel incomplete for not producing (and having the gall to not want to produce) a child?
I know this post is snarkier than mine usually are (I am not demeaning motherhood, let me make that clear. I have enormous respect for any and all mothers. I love my mama!). And I think that's just because I was so blown away and MAD by how instantly I (someone who spends a good deal of her time criticizing the Man and society and sexism and whatnot) bought into this idea of motherhood being a woman's supreme life achievement. And it bothered me all day long. In the back of my head is the Greek chorus wailing about motherhood and lost chances and fertility when I'm only 21. That's sad. So call people on their bullshit when you can. Your choices are just as valid as anyone else's, as long as they're true to what you want.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
By age 30, almost 90 percent of a woman's eggs are done. By 40, a full 97 percent have disappeared (according to a January study from University of St. Andrews and Edinburgh University in Scotland).
I just felt the first tick of my biological clock. Immediately I began to worry: 30?! I've only got nine years! What if I wind up totally infertile? What if I can never participate in birth? Or motherhood? Sure, I could adopt. But what if I miss my chance?
It's a testament to the strength of the myth that motherhood completes a woman that an avowed feminist who might not even want kids such as myself (in my senior yearbook blurb, I wrote "I plan to be fabulous, take over the world, find someone I love waking up next to everyday, and not have babies." Seriously) still feels these socially-induced knee jerk reactions to facts like that.
What bothers me about the way motherhood is perceived is that it's not really seen as a choice. Sure, you could choose to not have kids. But what's wrong with you? Couldn't find anyone to knock you up? Or are you just that selfish? I've heard all of these and more when I tell people I don't think I want kids (or I'll have at least four. Ask me why sometime, I have a rational reason). I think my favorite one is the total dismissal of my desire to perhaps not have kids as illegitimate: "Oh, you'll change your mind." Really? When? After I get bombarded with more media reports on how my fertility is fast disappearing and how much harder birth will be on my older body (because we all know more mature women aren't good for anything since they've lost their sex appeal!). It's disgusting.
And if you do choose to have children, you'll only face tons of articles and studies about how you're doing it wrong, with the myth of "perfect" motherhood glimmering in the distance just beyond your sleep-deprived, over-worked and under-appreciated reach. Stay-at-home mom? You will be judged for not "doing it all," or will be assumed to have given up your dreams (or if you're a woman of color, you'll be cast as a "welfare queen"). Work outside the home? Obviously, you're neglecting your kids and they'll begin to resent you as soon as you put them into daycare. And if you dare to out-earn your male partner (you do have a male partner, don't you? Side note break from the sarcasm: this makes me deeply happy!), you're emasculating hubby and rendering him impotent and that can't be good for the baby. And it is about the baby after all, isn't it?
All these are (slightly exaggerated) social attitudes women face about children, and they're sexist. Plain and simple. Men who choose not to have children or marry are sexy independent bachelors; women who do so are selfish or bitches or spinsters or old maids. Why? Because social attitudes are usually shaped by middle class straight white dudes, people who (whether they mean to or know it or not) are deeply invested in maintaining rigid gender roles. What better way to do that than to make women feel incomplete for not producing (and having the gall to not want to produce) a child?
I know this post is snarkier than mine usually are (I am not demeaning motherhood, let me make that clear. I have enormous respect for any and all mothers. I love my mama!). And I think that's just because I was so blown away and MAD by how instantly I (someone who spends a good deal of her time criticizing the Man and society and sexism and whatnot) bought into this idea of motherhood being a woman's supreme life achievement. And it bothered me all day long. In the back of my head is the Greek chorus wailing about motherhood and lost chances and fertility when I'm only 21. That's sad. So call people on their bullshit when you can. Your choices are just as valid as anyone else's, as long as they're true to what you want.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Monday, June 7, 2010
cause for optimism
In a few days, I plan to do a post on why feminism is absolutely still necessary (to silence any haters). But today, I want to recognize that sometimes, there are very real reasons to have some sense that feminism has accomplished quite a bit, even in changing deep seated attitudes.
Beefcake and I were talking one night about this blog, and he said something that was so awesome, I thought it deserved a plug here.
He said that there needed to be a better definition of consent, for the sake of both men (most of whom really don't want to be part of someone's non-consensual, horrible experience) and women (who don't deserved to be in those situations to begin with), something based more on an affirmation of desire than of a lack of no. He literally defined enthusiastic consent, having never (to my knowledge) read anything about the concept. I don't know if it's my feminist influences rubbing off on him and it's not the beginning of a revolution or anything, but it did really make me happy to see a white heterosexual male coming from a place of privilege and making that kind of statement.
Talking about the kinds of issues that women face, even if it's often dismissed as "complaining" does have an impact. It's the cheapest, easiest and most effective way to raise awareness of why feminism is still necessary: by talking about it. I hope all of you have moments like that with menfolk, as well as "I'm not a feminist, but.." womenfolk (and transfolk!).
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Beefcake and I were talking one night about this blog, and he said something that was so awesome, I thought it deserved a plug here.
He said that there needed to be a better definition of consent, for the sake of both men (most of whom really don't want to be part of someone's non-consensual, horrible experience) and women (who don't deserved to be in those situations to begin with), something based more on an affirmation of desire than of a lack of no. He literally defined enthusiastic consent, having never (to my knowledge) read anything about the concept. I don't know if it's my feminist influences rubbing off on him and it's not the beginning of a revolution or anything, but it did really make me happy to see a white heterosexual male coming from a place of privilege and making that kind of statement.
Talking about the kinds of issues that women face, even if it's often dismissed as "complaining" does have an impact. It's the cheapest, easiest and most effective way to raise awareness of why feminism is still necessary: by talking about it. I hope all of you have moments like that with menfolk, as well as "I'm not a feminist, but.." womenfolk (and transfolk!).
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Sunday, June 6, 2010
pretty and feminism
I was going to write a post on how it isn't anti-feminist to take an interest in your appearance, that smart and pretty aren't mutually exclusive, etc.
Then I stumbled upon an article about that very topic on another blog, Already Pretty.
But if you're too lazy to click that, here's what she says.
I've heard people say that whenever a woman dresses up, elements of patriarchal oppression, conformism, and weakness are at play. That it goes against the feminist grain to cinch your waist, or maximize your bust, or lengthen your legs with flattering clothing because on some level, you're doing it to garner male attention ... or to make your fellow women feel inferior. That you're unconsciously playing into some societal idea of what a woman should look like, even as you're telling yourself you're doing it because it makes you feel good.
But I don't buy it. Not for a minute.
This kind of thinking paints women as mindless, consumption-driven zombies incapable of making their own decisions. It assumes that any time we dare feel good about our looks, any time we include grooming and style in our regimen of self-care, we are surrendering power. And, perhaps even worse, it feeds into the smart-versus-pretty dichotomy. I mean, any woman who wants to dress up and look fashionable every day can't be smart, can she? If she makes sexy shoes and perfect makeup a priority, she can't possibly have room in her life for anything deeper or more meaningful. And, obviously, someone who stays abreast of the trends and dresses to accentuate her assets couldn't be a real feminist.
Obviously.
And that's a bit extreme and most people who accuse women of pandering when they pull on miniskirts and brush on mascara aren't quite that prejudiced. But a few months back, I saw a blog comment about how Eve Ensler wasn't relevant as a feminist anymore because she'd gotten a flattering new haircut and put on some lipstick for an interview. And I had to walk around the block a few times to keep my head from exploding. Because Eve didn't lose brain cells as she lost length off her 'do, and she didn't get the smarts sucked out of her when she slapped on that lippy. She's still herself, still amazing, just a little different-looking. And saying she's a sell-out for changing her personal style is assuming that she took someone else's opinion into consideration when she made those changes. That's a BIG assumption, and not one I'm comfortable making. About anyone.
The choices we make when we dress are nothing if not complex. To deny that societal ideals have influenced modern fashion would be naive, and to claim that women never dress to appeal to men would be preposterous. These things play in, sometimes, for some women. But it really frosts my cake when people assume that ALL women who dig clothes and fashion, cosmetics and fitness, are brainless bimbos who'd love nothing more than to bulldoze all that feminists have worked so hard to build.
Are all women who dress up feminists? No. Are all women who dress down feminists? No. What someone wears tells you some information about their tastes, choices, and lifestyle, but that information is minimal at best. Important, but minimal. There is no way to determine from looking at a woman whether or not she is a feminist. There is no way to determine from looking at a woman whether or not she is smart. You have to dig deeper to find those things out.
So don't tell me I'm not a feminist because I'm a clotheshorse. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Then I stumbled upon an article about that very topic on another blog, Already Pretty.
But if you're too lazy to click that, here's what she says.
I've heard people say that whenever a woman dresses up, elements of patriarchal oppression, conformism, and weakness are at play. That it goes against the feminist grain to cinch your waist, or maximize your bust, or lengthen your legs with flattering clothing because on some level, you're doing it to garner male attention ... or to make your fellow women feel inferior. That you're unconsciously playing into some societal idea of what a woman should look like, even as you're telling yourself you're doing it because it makes you feel good.
But I don't buy it. Not for a minute.
This kind of thinking paints women as mindless, consumption-driven zombies incapable of making their own decisions. It assumes that any time we dare feel good about our looks, any time we include grooming and style in our regimen of self-care, we are surrendering power. And, perhaps even worse, it feeds into the smart-versus-pretty dichotomy. I mean, any woman who wants to dress up and look fashionable every day can't be smart, can she? If she makes sexy shoes and perfect makeup a priority, she can't possibly have room in her life for anything deeper or more meaningful. And, obviously, someone who stays abreast of the trends and dresses to accentuate her assets couldn't be a real feminist.
Obviously.
And that's a bit extreme and most people who accuse women of pandering when they pull on miniskirts and brush on mascara aren't quite that prejudiced. But a few months back, I saw a blog comment about how Eve Ensler wasn't relevant as a feminist anymore because she'd gotten a flattering new haircut and put on some lipstick for an interview. And I had to walk around the block a few times to keep my head from exploding. Because Eve didn't lose brain cells as she lost length off her 'do, and she didn't get the smarts sucked out of her when she slapped on that lippy. She's still herself, still amazing, just a little different-looking. And saying she's a sell-out for changing her personal style is assuming that she took someone else's opinion into consideration when she made those changes. That's a BIG assumption, and not one I'm comfortable making. About anyone.
The choices we make when we dress are nothing if not complex. To deny that societal ideals have influenced modern fashion would be naive, and to claim that women never dress to appeal to men would be preposterous. These things play in, sometimes, for some women. But it really frosts my cake when people assume that ALL women who dig clothes and fashion, cosmetics and fitness, are brainless bimbos who'd love nothing more than to bulldoze all that feminists have worked so hard to build.
Are all women who dress up feminists? No. Are all women who dress down feminists? No. What someone wears tells you some information about their tastes, choices, and lifestyle, but that information is minimal at best. Important, but minimal. There is no way to determine from looking at a woman whether or not she is a feminist. There is no way to determine from looking at a woman whether or not she is smart. You have to dig deeper to find those things out.
So don't tell me I'm not a feminist because I'm a clotheshorse. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Votes for Women
Last night, The Librarian and I watched Iron Jawed Angels which is a fantastic movie about suffragist Alice Paul and her homegirls. (If you haven't seen it, you need to!) Every time I watch this movie, I get angry but also thankful. Thanks to the efforts of thousands of women over 70 years, every woman in the US has the right to vote. Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony started the fight for women's rights back in 1848 at the Senecca Falls convention where they declared that women needed to have certain rights. (At this point in US history, it was legal for a man to beat his wife, among other things.) In 1920, over 70 years later, women gained the right to vote. The amendment passed by one vote. Women were not granted the right to vote. They fought for it with their blood, sweat and tears.
Our great-grandmothers, grandmothers, and mothers fought for every freedom that we enjoy today. Currently, I have the right to vote, open my own bank account, have control over my reproductive capacity, get an education and even play on sports teams. A married women could not open her own bank account until the 1960's. Women were not admitted to Dartmouth, Harvard, Yale etc. until the late 1970's. When Margaret Sanger began advocating for birth control, it was illegal for her to open a clinic or disseminate any information via the mail. Congress had passed a law in 1873 which defined birth control as obscene material, so it became illegal to distribute it. The Supreme Court declared laws against birth control as unconstitutional in 1965 (Griswald v. CT) b/c these laws violated a woman's right to privacy (no shit). But again it took 60 years for women to have the ability to control her own body.
Unfortunately, I think that we have a tendency to forget these facts (or we never learned them due to an education system only concerned with the history of the white male). So, I encourage you to take a class in women's history if you can or even just read a wikipedia page about Margaret Sanger, Alice Paul, Elizabeth Cady Stanton etc (the list goes on). We need to remember this history and these women because they sacrificed not for themselves really but for us. So, exercise the rights that your foremothers fought for. Don't let anyone take them away from you or tell you that the fight for gender equality is over ('cause it isn't).
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Our great-grandmothers, grandmothers, and mothers fought for every freedom that we enjoy today. Currently, I have the right to vote, open my own bank account, have control over my reproductive capacity, get an education and even play on sports teams. A married women could not open her own bank account until the 1960's. Women were not admitted to Dartmouth, Harvard, Yale etc. until the late 1970's. When Margaret Sanger began advocating for birth control, it was illegal for her to open a clinic or disseminate any information via the mail. Congress had passed a law in 1873 which defined birth control as obscene material, so it became illegal to distribute it. The Supreme Court declared laws against birth control as unconstitutional in 1965 (Griswald v. CT) b/c these laws violated a woman's right to privacy (no shit). But again it took 60 years for women to have the ability to control her own body.
Unfortunately, I think that we have a tendency to forget these facts (or we never learned them due to an education system only concerned with the history of the white male). So, I encourage you to take a class in women's history if you can or even just read a wikipedia page about Margaret Sanger, Alice Paul, Elizabeth Cady Stanton etc (the list goes on). We need to remember this history and these women because they sacrificed not for themselves really but for us. So, exercise the rights that your foremothers fought for. Don't let anyone take them away from you or tell you that the fight for gender equality is over ('cause it isn't).
Lots of Love,
Lady Lola
Friday, June 4, 2010
Macho macho man.
About a week ago, I was at a house party of a friend of a friend (let's call him...Hammy). Hammy is himself a very typically masculine guy--he was in the military, could absolutely kill you his pinky finger, and played lacrosse. All the right traits of a macho man. He also owns and adores a yorkshire terrier and wears pink polos, so I give him credit for the crossing of boundaries (I think he can own a yorkie and wear pink because no one would ever give him shit, lest they wind up in the river...but I digress).
Some of Hammy's neighbors drunkenly wandered over and hung out for a while, and they provided the more interesting social dynamics to observe. They were definitely older than us, probably early 30s, but wanted to chill with the college kids and re-hash their youth (one man bragged to me twice about his DUI as if it was supposed to be impressive, and they all wanted to play flip cup).
One of the women began ragging on one of the guys, mocking him because he'd watched Dear John all by himself, something that she said made him "gayer" than the pink tissues Hammy kept in the bathroom. Dear John is a sappy romance (that I rather enjoyed, shhh) based on a Nicholas Sparks novel. The plot is more or less unimportant (it's sad, is what you need to know) It's a film clearly marketed towards young women and attempts to capitalize on the supposed romantic yearnings typical of that age group. And to watch this film, by himself, earned this poor guy the nickname of "Dear John" for the rest of the night and branded him with the status of being gay.
Obviously, this is a rather minor, harmless example: this man was just being teased, but not mercilessly bullied. But it does illustrate how clearly we've delineated acceptable patterns of "feminine, girly" action and "masculine, manly" action. Anything that doesn't fit the box is either manly/unnatural for women or makes one a faggot for men.
I would argue that, in some ways, this pull to stay within the hegemonic concept of gendered behavior is actually stronger on men, and the repercussions for violating that standard are often harsher. Women no longer are discouraged from sports for fear of being called manly, short hair might get one teased but does not necessarily indicate sexuality or a "masculine" nature, and many professions that were once closed off to women are still male-dominated but far more open (excepting possibly for construction and other manual labor jobs). In contrast, male nurses are ridiculed (think Meet the Parents), men who are "too" well-groomed or well-dressed are harassed and dismissed as "fags" (think every public high school in America), and men drinking fruity drinks are "pussies" (see Lady Lola's post on Manning Up). Please know that I am not saying hegemonic concepts of femininity don't hinder women, because they absolutely do. I just think it appears to be more socially acceptable for women (especially if they are otherwise straight, attractive and feminine) to take on "masculine" traits and get away with it.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Some of Hammy's neighbors drunkenly wandered over and hung out for a while, and they provided the more interesting social dynamics to observe. They were definitely older than us, probably early 30s, but wanted to chill with the college kids and re-hash their youth (one man bragged to me twice about his DUI as if it was supposed to be impressive, and they all wanted to play flip cup).
One of the women began ragging on one of the guys, mocking him because he'd watched Dear John all by himself, something that she said made him "gayer" than the pink tissues Hammy kept in the bathroom. Dear John is a sappy romance (that I rather enjoyed, shhh) based on a Nicholas Sparks novel. The plot is more or less unimportant (it's sad, is what you need to know) It's a film clearly marketed towards young women and attempts to capitalize on the supposed romantic yearnings typical of that age group. And to watch this film, by himself, earned this poor guy the nickname of "Dear John" for the rest of the night and branded him with the status of being gay.
Obviously, this is a rather minor, harmless example: this man was just being teased, but not mercilessly bullied. But it does illustrate how clearly we've delineated acceptable patterns of "feminine, girly" action and "masculine, manly" action. Anything that doesn't fit the box is either manly/unnatural for women or makes one a faggot for men.
I would argue that, in some ways, this pull to stay within the hegemonic concept of gendered behavior is actually stronger on men, and the repercussions for violating that standard are often harsher. Women no longer are discouraged from sports for fear of being called manly, short hair might get one teased but does not necessarily indicate sexuality or a "masculine" nature, and many professions that were once closed off to women are still male-dominated but far more open (excepting possibly for construction and other manual labor jobs). In contrast, male nurses are ridiculed (think Meet the Parents), men who are "too" well-groomed or well-dressed are harassed and dismissed as "fags" (think every public high school in America), and men drinking fruity drinks are "pussies" (see Lady Lola's post on Manning Up). Please know that I am not saying hegemonic concepts of femininity don't hinder women, because they absolutely do. I just think it appears to be more socially acceptable for women (especially if they are otherwise straight, attractive and feminine) to take on "masculine" traits and get away with it.
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
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