Showing posts with label feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feminism. Show all posts
Friday, April 6, 2012
Feminism or Fishnets? Must We Choose?
What does a feminist look like? When someone says the word, what is the image that your mind conjures? A Birkenstock wearing, bra-less, boho chick with a book by Gloria Steinem under her arm? There's nothing wrong with that - of course not. There's also nothing wrong with the feminist who wears lipstick and patent leather stilettos. They exist! I may be one of them.
The truth is, part of being a woman is the conundrum of balancing our femininity with our desire to be treated equally in society. Sexism still exists - it may not be as pronounced as it was in the 1950s, but it is more subversive. Women are still objectified in advertisements, pornography, and Hollywood. It's difficult to be taken seriously nowadays if you like dresses and ruffles. Men still think it's OK to whistle and catcall to women that they do not know. What's even worse, is that women sometimes encourage the behavior and are flattered by it. My friends and I were at a bar recently, and a young man walked past us, and felt it was his privilege to touch us on our buttocks as he went by. He was stunned when I called him out in public. Perhaps he had gotten away with it many times before.
That's not to say I dislike men; I love men. I am married to a phenomenal man who treats me with respect, and understands that I am independent and opinionated. He doesn't feel threatened by that. I worked with a man once who told me that "an independent woman is unattractive." Really? I certainly can appreciate the gentlemanly desire to care for and lovingly protect a woman, and I am not necessarily turned off by that. I AM turned off by men who assume that I NEED that protection. A man that can give me the space that I need to pursue my ambitions and support them is very masculine, because he is secure. My husband realizes that my desire to be successful is not emasculating to him. I also am secure enough to let him open doors for me.
It really bothers me that young women are beginning to turn to a culture of superficiality. I have heard about pre-teen girls posting videos on YouTube asking viewers whether they are "pretty" or not. Having a daughter myself, I worry about this. Not only because of the potential for predatory behavior (YouTube needs filters and controls, who's with me here?), but what this says about our culture. In her book, "Quiet", Susan Cain explains how society has moved away from a culture of character, into a culture of personality and superficiality. Our opinions of ourselves are dictated by how others perceive us. How damaging this is! It is ironic that we, as women, have made so many strides toward equality in the workplace over the past 30 years, yet we care more about if others like us. I've been guilty of that, in my younger years. Thankfully, that matters much less as I age.
But, back to my main point. Since when did I have to quit being "girly" to be a feminist? I am an unabashed admirer of fashion and beauty, in its many forms. I work in the beauty industry. I love helping women, and men, feel great about themselves. I also enjoy being an Oriental (Belly) dancer. One of the most rewarding things in my life has been teaching women how to control their muscles, fat, and limbs to become one with the music. I also love a great burlesque show. See, to me there's a difference in a woman who knows that she is being comical, confident, and sexy in an intentional way rather than a woman who has been beaten into thinking that her body is the only thing she has of value to offer. I know when I get on stage, and I am putting on my glitter, I am not thinking about stealing anyone's husband, or the attention I am getting from men. I am thinking about how I go into a "zen bubble" when I dance, and how free I feel. I do it for me, and for the ladies - for that teenage girl who is self-conscious about the little bit of belly she has, and who feels she's clumsy and awkward. For the mom who has stretch-marks and roomy hips, and for the grandmother with her wrinkles. It's OK to feel pretty.
I DO have a real problem with objectification. I have a problem with women being brain-washed into thinking they have to be a 00. Women turning into Fiats, bottles of beer, I could go on and on...Jean Kilbourne's excellent "Killing Us Softly" series is a fine example of how the media influences us. I was an unwitting victim of this when I found myself in the check-out line with a box of Magnums (ice-cream bars, not condoms). Those racy ads featuring Rachel Bilson had sunk in more than I realized. Although the ice cream is good, the pseudo-sexual image of a beautiful young woman salivating over a phallic shaped ice cream novelty is just another example of targeted advertising. Sure, it's successful, but at what cost? I am not a prude, by any stretch of the imagination. But, the mystery of sex is gone. Where do we go from here? Sex sells; always has, always will. But, I would rather innuendo than soft-core porn in my ads. "Save some for later, Augustus!"
I worry about our young women, especially if they are confused about their sexuality and their place in this world. We owe it to the giants of our history - the Elizabeth Stantons, the Eleanor Roosevelts, and the Marie Curies, to do better. We have to...otherwise we will regress into self-imposed misogyny. Think of fat-shaming, slut-shaming and thin-shaming; these are things that we women do to one another. And this time, we won't be able to blame it all on the patriarchs, because we will have become willing participants in our own downfall. It doesn't matter if you wear overalls, a frilly dress, or a bikini. Be yourself - be a woman. Whether lesbian, straight, transgender or bi, let's try to not hate on our sex. We've worked really hard to get here. Don't take it for granted.
Photo: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Sunday, July 24, 2011
In Celebration of Midge
Growing up poor makes you creative. Forced to find our own fun diversions while other kids were playing with their Ataris, my sister and I invented lots of games and activities. One of my favorite memories is the covered wagon we rigged up with coat hangers, old sheets, and our poor dog, Rocky, as the horse. We were watching too much Little House on the Prairie, obviously.
One of the other projects I enjoyed as a child was making doll clothes for the rag-tag band of Barbies that I owned. We pilfered most of these from yard sales, and my favorite was my Midge doll. She was my muse. Not many people know about Midge; she was usually in Barbie's shadow. Barbie's great, but she's not such a great role-model. She's just too perfect. Young girls can't live up to her standards. Veterinarian one day, teacher the next, then super-model. How does she have time for it all? And that body...well it defies gravity.
Midge was REAL. (As real as a plastic person can be, that is.) She was a kind of everywoman, with a smattering of freckles, a snub-nose and a tangle of red hair that flipped out at the ends. She was perky and cute. What she lacked in sophistication, she made up for with personality. In all of the coloring books and ads, it's Midge with the sassy look on her face, and the gleam in her eye. I guess I relate to that. I'm seldom, if ever the most beautiful woman in the room. I've always relied on my wit and intelligence to carry me through life. That's what happens when you're awkward as a child - you learn how to adapt to whatever life throws at you. You know how to chop and change.
Many of my friends are Midges. Even if they blossomed later in life, they usually didn't start out privileged that way. One was self-conscious of her buck-teeth and grew up just as poor as I did. She now models. One was extremely tall at a young age, and is now a statuesque beauty who is proud of her height. One was a tomboy, and didn't wear makeup until she was in her twenties. One was chubby as a child, and is now a personal-trainer. One was petite and always mistaken for being much younger than her age. It serves her well now! I love it. None of us depended on our looks to get us by, and neither would Midge, I'd imagine.
There was quite a controversy about Midge in the early nineties. She turned up pregnant (even though she was married), and there was an outcry from the public. Mattel discontinued Midge from production, and we haven't seen her since. Vintage Midge dolls are now collector's items. They sometimes go for thousands of dollars. Even though my daughter doesn't play with dolls, I wish Mattel would bring her back. Barbie is pristine, beautiful, and perfect, but give me moxie any day!
There's nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty and glamorous; I enjoy dressing up and being a girl just like most women do. But there's something to be said for making personality a priority. Magazines and movies paint an unrealistic portrait of what a modern woman should be. Somehow, we are supposed climb the ladder of success, be sexy for our men, and raise happy, healthy children all while looking like a cocaine addict. Who can attain all of that and maintain their sanity?? I sometimes look like a psychotic cave-dweller going to the grocery store. Something's gotta give, people.
I guess the point of this blog is to love who you are. I adore the Lady Gaga song, "Born This Way." It really brings home what I'm trying to say. I never want my daughter to feel like she needs to change who she is. I love her attitude; her ears that stick out ever so slightly, her blackened fingernails from playing in the dirt. I love that she can hang out with the boys; that she can make anyone laugh with her absurd sense of humor. I'm not trying to turn her into an idealized image of what I want her to be. I see this a lot in my peer group. It makes me sad. It will always lead to rebellion or a crushed spirit. Neither is good for a child's self-esteem. We need to give our daughters the gift of self-expression.
Let's start a movement. Let's bring back Midge.
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