NY Times piece about the (sick, sad) process of picking Victoria's Secret Angels.
Someone else's POV on the Lingerie Football League.
An adorable puppy. Just because.
A mother's struggles with other moms' responses to her son's gender bending Halloween costume.
Happy Friday!
Much love,
The Sheriff
Friday, November 5, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
menstrual revolution!
I'm shocked that I haven't written about this before, but a cursury glance through the archives didn't give any hints that I had (also the search bar is useless, and will be removed today: I tried to find my article on spanking, and it turned up nothing. Google, get on my level). But today is a day for talking about periods!
I had the extreme misfortune of getting my period heinously early (age nine, guys. NINE), and had plenty of heinously embarrassing experiences because of it. I didn't hate it, I just had no interest in having it or really understanding why it was happening to me and not to everyone else my age. It was kinda cool being the most knowledgeable about sex and bodies and hormones at all the sleepovers (that hasn't really changed), but I didn't really feel too strongly about it. Then it disappeared for several years, thanks to anorexia-induced amenorrhea.
But come college and a lovely Freshman 40 weight gain, and things are going mostly smoothly, menstrually speaking. I'd read about how tampon cotton is bleached and contains dioxins, a possibly carcinogenic substance. That's FUCKED UP that anyone would think it's okay for a corporation to market that and sell it widely and have women inserting it directly inside themselves. But organic tampons, like everything crunchy and organic and intended to make rich white folks feel better about their lives, are expensive (even more overpriced than regular tampons!). So what to do?
Enter the Diva Cup.
According to their website, "The DivaCup is a non-absorbent menstrual cup that simply collects menstrual flow. It is inserted in the vagina and sits at the lower base of the vaginal canal. It is worn internally, yet because it is soft and smooth, it cannot be felt nor will it leak when inserted properly." And honestly, all of that is true. It's fantastic. It's sanitary, it's good for the earth, and it's waaaay cheaper than dropping ten bucks a month on tampons.
But. The learning curve is steep. The insertion process is seriously tricky, and the first time I tried about a year ago, I fucked around for half an hour until I felt raw and gave up and wanted to cry. How hard could it be? Trying again the next day somehow made it click, and it worked. And it was glorious.
Also, you MUST be very comfortable with your own blood/fluids to use it. You can leave it in for up to 12 hours, which is fantastic, but sometimes? It gets a little full. You might get some on your hands (or all over your thighs, as I once did). But I think it's a beautiful thing to be comfortable and in touch your body and its processes. You'll be getting your period for probably another 30-40 years: why not make it easier on yourself, and get to know your body?
It does present some awkward social situations (how do I clean out my cup in a busy rest stop bathroom without scaring small children?), but most of those pale in comparison to the perks (less carcinogens in my body and less trash in landfills, more money in my pocket).
Have you ever considered the Diva Cup or another alternative to commercially available pads/tampons?
Much love,
The Sheriff
I had the extreme misfortune of getting my period heinously early (age nine, guys. NINE), and had plenty of heinously embarrassing experiences because of it. I didn't hate it, I just had no interest in having it or really understanding why it was happening to me and not to everyone else my age. It was kinda cool being the most knowledgeable about sex and bodies and hormones at all the sleepovers (that hasn't really changed), but I didn't really feel too strongly about it. Then it disappeared for several years, thanks to anorexia-induced amenorrhea.
But come college and a lovely Freshman 40 weight gain, and things are going mostly smoothly, menstrually speaking. I'd read about how tampon cotton is bleached and contains dioxins, a possibly carcinogenic substance. That's FUCKED UP that anyone would think it's okay for a corporation to market that and sell it widely and have women inserting it directly inside themselves. But organic tampons, like everything crunchy and organic and intended to make rich white folks feel better about their lives, are expensive (even more overpriced than regular tampons!). So what to do?
Enter the Diva Cup.
According to their website, "The DivaCup is a non-absorbent menstrual cup that simply collects menstrual flow. It is inserted in the vagina and sits at the lower base of the vaginal canal. It is worn internally, yet because it is soft and smooth, it cannot be felt nor will it leak when inserted properly." And honestly, all of that is true. It's fantastic. It's sanitary, it's good for the earth, and it's waaaay cheaper than dropping ten bucks a month on tampons.
But. The learning curve is steep. The insertion process is seriously tricky, and the first time I tried about a year ago, I fucked around for half an hour until I felt raw and gave up and wanted to cry. How hard could it be? Trying again the next day somehow made it click, and it worked. And it was glorious.
Also, you MUST be very comfortable with your own blood/fluids to use it. You can leave it in for up to 12 hours, which is fantastic, but sometimes? It gets a little full. You might get some on your hands (or all over your thighs, as I once did). But I think it's a beautiful thing to be comfortable and in touch your body and its processes. You'll be getting your period for probably another 30-40 years: why not make it easier on yourself, and get to know your body?
It does present some awkward social situations (how do I clean out my cup in a busy rest stop bathroom without scaring small children?), but most of those pale in comparison to the perks (less carcinogens in my body and less trash in landfills, more money in my pocket).
Have you ever considered the Diva Cup or another alternative to commercially available pads/tampons?
Much love,
The Sheriff
Monday, November 1, 2010
voting: just do it.
Regardless of your personal politics, just vote. Please. Don't be one of those apathetic assholes who abstains because they think it's useless and that politics is all a sham and we have no say and blahblahblah. This is your right. If you are anything other than a white, educated man, at some point in this country's history, you were disenfranchised and couldn't vote. So act right, enjoy your hard-won power, and cast your vote, dammit.
In related news, this video is absolutely abhorrent. I don't know anyone in Colorado, but if you live there, PLEASE vote no on 62. Your people are acting apeshit if they think this kind of political advertisement is factual or okay.
Much love,
The Sheriff
Friday, October 29, 2010
halloween links!
As noted in my last piece, slutty costumes abound at Halloween...and these are just absurd. Sexy Nemo?! My 8th grade field trip is ruined forever.
Some silly Halloween cartoons...not really related to sex or feminism (except that the sexy female vampires want their rights!).
Why do many women consistently dismiss lousy sex? The Sheriff does not stand for this.
And this is a great piece about a man confronting abortion protesters.
Happy Friday!
Much love,
The Sheriff
Some silly Halloween cartoons...not really related to sex or feminism (except that the sexy female vampires want their rights!).
Why do many women consistently dismiss lousy sex? The Sheriff does not stand for this.
And this is a great piece about a man confronting abortion protesters.
Happy Friday!
Much love,
The Sheriff
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
"Slutty" Halloween Costumes: oppressive, fun, neither?
As a (somewhat) typical college-age woman, I've gone to a few Halloween affairs. And Mean Girls got it right: for many of us, it seems to be the only occasion in which a woman can dress as slutty as she likes and no one can say anything mean about it because hey, it's Halloween.
I do find it hard to get offended about the somewhat revealing nature of Halloween costumes. It's a holiday, and if you truly don't want to participate, I guess you could make your own (non-revealing) outfit. Sure, I agree that it's unfair that it's nigh impossible to find a cute but not borderline prostitute outfit, but it is still something you can opt out of and come up with your own interpretation.
In that vein, last night Baby and I went to a house party dressed as Snooki and Jwoww, respectively.
We looked ridiculous, with our massive poufs, bracelets for earrings, and bronzer, but we looked perfectly Jersey. We set out for a fun evening. And it was fun.
Except when we were sexually harassed. One man felt compelled to actually reach into my cleavage, apropos of nothing, and adjust my shirt. Baby said she felt uncomfortable and hyper aware (as our very sober designated driver...feminists have responsible fun!) of the fact that people were staring at her chest and body as they talked to her. While this (sadly) is not the first time I've had such reactions, I was fucking appalled at the fact that the guys doing this weren't totally trashed or being douches the rest of the time: they seemed like pretty decent, average folks. And they still thought adjusting a stranger's tits was fine?
I talked to my mama about this and she raised the point: why not just wear less revealing clothes if they're going to be dicks? But that's the equivalent of letting the terrorists win: by letting their sexist, unrefined mannerisms alter my behavior, I'm letting them win. Not to get dramatic about slutty Halloween costumes, but it's sort of admitting defeat.
I bare body parts not for the reception that it gets but because it's fun. It's freeing to stop being intellectual and put together and to act like someone else for the night, and that shouldn't be something that's interrupted by unwanted touching. This individual in question was immediately aware of the fact that what he did wasn't okay, but let's raise the bar in general for men. Let's expect more of them, and insist that they rise to the occasion.
So, revealing outfits or not: happy Halloween everyone!
Much love,
The Sheriff
I do find it hard to get offended about the somewhat revealing nature of Halloween costumes. It's a holiday, and if you truly don't want to participate, I guess you could make your own (non-revealing) outfit. Sure, I agree that it's unfair that it's nigh impossible to find a cute but not borderline prostitute outfit, but it is still something you can opt out of and come up with your own interpretation.
In that vein, last night Baby and I went to a house party dressed as Snooki and Jwoww, respectively.
We looked ridiculous, with our massive poufs, bracelets for earrings, and bronzer, but we looked perfectly Jersey. We set out for a fun evening. And it was fun.
Except when we were sexually harassed. One man felt compelled to actually reach into my cleavage, apropos of nothing, and adjust my shirt. Baby said she felt uncomfortable and hyper aware (as our very sober designated driver...feminists have responsible fun!) of the fact that people were staring at her chest and body as they talked to her. While this (sadly) is not the first time I've had such reactions, I was fucking appalled at the fact that the guys doing this weren't totally trashed or being douches the rest of the time: they seemed like pretty decent, average folks. And they still thought adjusting a stranger's tits was fine?
I talked to my mama about this and she raised the point: why not just wear less revealing clothes if they're going to be dicks? But that's the equivalent of letting the terrorists win: by letting their sexist, unrefined mannerisms alter my behavior, I'm letting them win. Not to get dramatic about slutty Halloween costumes, but it's sort of admitting defeat.
I bare body parts not for the reception that it gets but because it's fun. It's freeing to stop being intellectual and put together and to act like someone else for the night, and that shouldn't be something that's interrupted by unwanted touching. This individual in question was immediately aware of the fact that what he did wasn't okay, but let's raise the bar in general for men. Let's expect more of them, and insist that they rise to the occasion.
So, revealing outfits or not: happy Halloween everyone!
Much love,
The Sheriff
Monday, October 25, 2010
stripteasin'
Meatball's birthday came and went, and I still never got around to giving him his birthday present, as logistical factors kept getting in the way: one of us was sick, he had finals, I had my period, we plain forgot about it when we had the chance(further proof I am actually an old woman). But last week, a window of opportunity opened, and I took it and gave my first ever striptease.
Despite Meatball's belonging to a frat and being an athlete, he is quite the gentlemen and never asked for a striptease. I offered. I've thought about performing one for years now, but never had quite the right audience (dating a mixture of jerks and people who made me feel insecure about my body may have contributed to me not wanting to bump and grind naked on their lap). But with him, I definitely did: I know he loves my body, that he'd appreciate it, and that he'd respond in kind with some equally vulnerable display (and he is!). It wasn't super intense or vulgar; I may have been pretty tipsy and a little nervous, but it was straight up me.
And I loved doing it. I felt sexy, it was a huge turn on, and it actually felt pretty natural. Oh, and he liked it too.
Context is obviously everything with an act like this: had he pushed me into doing it, or had I felt deeply uncomfortable, it would've been tainted and gross and dripping with sexism. But I offered to and wanted to do this. Does that take away the fact that it's still something catered to the male gaze? Would it be different if I'd done a dance for a female partner?
For myself, I honestly don't think there is anything inherently wrong with it. I don't claim stripping as a necessarily powerful or feminist act for myself, but it felt amazing, as someone who has struggled vehemently with eating disorders, body image issues and my sexuality, to have total control and to feel truly, uncompromisingly hot. Although it's literally a performance, it was an authentic expression of my sexuality to me: I'm a bold, in control partner, and this was no change from that. Short of painting the female symbol on my stomach, this was as close to a feminist striptease as I'd ever encountered, and I was pretty damn pleased with its non-exploitative feel. It was just good clean sexy fun, for both of us.
But again, context is everything. If he'd demanded a dance and dictated how it went and what it looked like, I'd be out the fucking door.
Much love,
The Sheriff
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Thursday, October 21, 2010
Friday links
It's not actually Friday yet, but I have a job interview tomorrow so I'm posting now (cross your fingers for me!).
Enter for a vibe from us in our previous post :)
There is a whole lot of anger (understandably) on the internets about the Yale DKE incident. Read general stuff/watch the video about it here, read an interview with one of the brothers, and read a feminist response from Yale here.
In nicer Greek life news, the sorority Delta Delta Delta recently hosted Fat Talk Free Week.
Horrifying sexist vintage ads (shared with me by my frat boy boyfriend...should I be worried?)
Response from a young feminist to Katha Politt irritation with us.
And finally: who gets to be a feminist?
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
Enter for a vibe from us in our previous post :)
There is a whole lot of anger (understandably) on the internets about the Yale DKE incident. Read general stuff/watch the video about it here, read an interview with one of the brothers, and read a feminist response from Yale here.
In nicer Greek life news, the sorority Delta Delta Delta recently hosted Fat Talk Free Week.
Horrifying sexist vintage ads (shared with me by my frat boy boyfriend...should I be worried?)
Response from a young feminist to Katha Politt irritation with us.
And finally: who gets to be a feminist?
Much love,
The Albright Sheriff
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