About three months ago, I had an experience in the subway that really blew me away and solidified my fiscal politics. I didn't write about it at the time because I was feeling writer's blocked, but it seems important enough to reach back a little bit.
I was riding the subway home from a fancy dinner with my parents, who were in town for Thanksgiving. I was carrying a bag full of various leftovers they'd given me, which I planned to gleefully eat over the next week. I'm not exactly flush with cash, so free food was a luxury I was looking forward to.
As I was sitting there in a half-dozing, full-stomach, late-night stupor, a woman got on the subway and began one of those hat-in-hand speeches that you often hear from bedraggled people on the trains. She was missing most of her front teeth and had graying hair sticking out from the sides of her head. She said, "You're all I've got and I'm hungry and thirsty." She started to ask for whatever pocket change we could spare.
Well, I was sitting right next to her and I had all this food, so I just handed her a big thing of risotto that my parents had given me.
She stopped mid-sentence. Probably mid-word. She looked the container over, opened it, and started eating right there with her hands. She didn't really look at me, except once because I was watching her (I said, lamely, "Happy Thanksgiving,") and she got off at the next stop, still wordlessly eating.
I was so struck by her facial expression and the way she took that food. This woman was clearly starving. She had not eaten in days. It was obvious, and my heart just broke.
It's so impossible to understand living in this city. You can walk up Park Ave and see all the fancy shops and the women with obvious plastic surgery and fur coats and fancy cars with drivers. I collect hundreds of dollars sometimes in single donations on the street. And yet, there are people here who are starving.
Starving.
So, it became immensely clear to me that there's no reason that the kind of extreme wealth that's on display in this city should even exist. There's just no sense in it when we could tax those people into a semblance of reasonable life and be able to feed and house the people who need it.
I'm not saying people shouldn't be able to build up money and that there shouldn't be fiscal rewards for work. I do think it's important to have a bell curve of socio-economic status. I just think we need to cut off the ends, eliminate the outliers. So yeah, still pay doctors more and let people at the top have higher salaries, but there's just no reason for anyone to have gold dinner plates or private jets or whatever. It's just gratuitous.
So I guess that makes me something of a socialist, although not an extreme one by any means. That's something I'd shied away from for a long time because I felt like our fiscal politics were very, very complicated and trying to take a stance when I don't fully understand them would be silly. But really now, I can at least grasp a general concept and think it's close to the right thing to do.
Websites I Love
Showing posts with label consumer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consumer. Show all posts
The History of Removing Women's Body Hair
In case you couldn't have guessed, the practice of removing female body hair in Western culture and especially North America started with advertising.
When sleeveless dresses became popular shortly after the invention of the razor with disposable blades (planned obsolescence anyone?), it was an obvious step for advertisers to try to sell the razors to women. What better way than making them think their armpit hair was unsanitary and needed to be removed?
The above image from 1915 was the first in a widespread campaign which increasingly suggested to women that their hair was dirty and distasteful. Now, this particular advertising trend had to do specifically with underarm hair. The disgust for leg hair and need for razors to shave it off was encouraged later, after hemlines began to rise. Women had to be self-conscious about their newly visible body parts in order to convince them to pay to alter them.
It's a little harder to pinpoint exactly when women started shaving their legs. There seems to be a consensus that it happened in the 1940s when skirts got shorter and sheer pantyhose became available. Some speculate that it had something to do with pinup model Betty Grable showing off her hairless legs and inspiring others to do the same.
Complete removal of pubic hair is a different story, actually. This was less driven by the advertising industry than by the porn industry. If you're a pornie, you've probably seen some of those old 1970s pornos where the women still sported the full bush. Pubic hair got shorter and shorter as porn became more and more accessible via VHS, DVD, and then finally the internet. As it became viable for more people to get into porn, it also became useful to remove their hair, the only visual obstacle to intense closeups of pink vulvas.
So, ladies, the fact that you're socially pressured in a huge way to remove all the hair on your body (except the long locks on your head) comes almost exclusively from industry and advertising. It has nothing really to do with hygiene or femininity, it's just about profits and products. I mean, that's no different than other staples of beauty standards like makeup and anti-aging products, etc. It's just equally depressing.
When sleeveless dresses became popular shortly after the invention of the razor with disposable blades (planned obsolescence anyone?), it was an obvious step for advertisers to try to sell the razors to women. What better way than making them think their armpit hair was unsanitary and needed to be removed?
The above image from 1915 was the first in a widespread campaign which increasingly suggested to women that their hair was dirty and distasteful. Now, this particular advertising trend had to do specifically with underarm hair. The disgust for leg hair and need for razors to shave it off was encouraged later, after hemlines began to rise. Women had to be self-conscious about their newly visible body parts in order to convince them to pay to alter them.
It's a little harder to pinpoint exactly when women started shaving their legs. There seems to be a consensus that it happened in the 1940s when skirts got shorter and sheer pantyhose became available. Some speculate that it had something to do with pinup model Betty Grable showing off her hairless legs and inspiring others to do the same.
Complete removal of pubic hair is a different story, actually. This was less driven by the advertising industry than by the porn industry. If you're a pornie, you've probably seen some of those old 1970s pornos where the women still sported the full bush. Pubic hair got shorter and shorter as porn became more and more accessible via VHS, DVD, and then finally the internet. As it became viable for more people to get into porn, it also became useful to remove their hair, the only visual obstacle to intense closeups of pink vulvas.
So, ladies, the fact that you're socially pressured in a huge way to remove all the hair on your body (except the long locks on your head) comes almost exclusively from industry and advertising. It has nothing really to do with hygiene or femininity, it's just about profits and products. I mean, that's no different than other staples of beauty standards like makeup and anti-aging products, etc. It's just equally depressing.
Modern Work
I had a thought the other day.
Work used to be someone people would do to survive. Work was how you killed or grew and ate your food. It was how you had clothes so you didn't freeze to death. You know, essential stuff. You put in effort because that's what it took to have what you needed, and exertion was the natural consequence of getting those things.
We still have work, though, despite the fact that our clothes are made thousands of miles away and our food is grown and picked by strangers. And sure, the people who supply those things are working at it, and a lot of the work that we all do in this country serves to bring those products to their consumers. But also, so many of the available jobs are marketing or crunching numbers or managing other people to do those things. Somebody cuts the paychecks for the best boy on a movie set. Someone writes the copy on the label of fruit juice bottles.
It's a weird thing to think about, with too many implications to write about in a single blog post. We clearly, as beings, need stuff to do, are designed to struggle at something. Even if it's weirdly insignificant.
Also, the fact that we outsource our physical needs allows for so much more population. When we make someone else get our food for us, we give them a job and something to do and a way to get their own food. And also, then we need a random job ourselves, so it creates this weird society beast. It grows exponentially and the result is that we both need and create more and more people and more and more resources. Sad for our planet that its resources aren't infinite. Sad for us that we're killing it.
This post kind of reads like stoned ramblings, and sadly it's not. It's just odd to be an adult and deconstruct going to work every day even a little. No wonder so much art is made about this. I want to go read John Cheever some more and watch some Mad Men. What a strange world I live in.
Work used to be someone people would do to survive. Work was how you killed or grew and ate your food. It was how you had clothes so you didn't freeze to death. You know, essential stuff. You put in effort because that's what it took to have what you needed, and exertion was the natural consequence of getting those things.
We still have work, though, despite the fact that our clothes are made thousands of miles away and our food is grown and picked by strangers. And sure, the people who supply those things are working at it, and a lot of the work that we all do in this country serves to bring those products to their consumers. But also, so many of the available jobs are marketing or crunching numbers or managing other people to do those things. Somebody cuts the paychecks for the best boy on a movie set. Someone writes the copy on the label of fruit juice bottles.
It's a weird thing to think about, with too many implications to write about in a single blog post. We clearly, as beings, need stuff to do, are designed to struggle at something. Even if it's weirdly insignificant.
Also, the fact that we outsource our physical needs allows for so much more population. When we make someone else get our food for us, we give them a job and something to do and a way to get their own food. And also, then we need a random job ourselves, so it creates this weird society beast. It grows exponentially and the result is that we both need and create more and more people and more and more resources. Sad for our planet that its resources aren't infinite. Sad for us that we're killing it.
This post kind of reads like stoned ramblings, and sadly it's not. It's just odd to be an adult and deconstruct going to work every day even a little. No wonder so much art is made about this. I want to go read John Cheever some more and watch some Mad Men. What a strange world I live in.
Freaking Out
So I had a series of banking fuck ups which led to my bank charging me around 100 dollars that I can't afford in fees because I was absent-minded and kept forgetting to deposit a couple of checks I'd gotten in the mail and also forgot about an automatic charge that was coming up.
This, and my reaction to it, has made it finally apparent to me that I'm completely freaked - over the moon - at the concept of being a real adult and having to be financially responsible for myself. Yes, I have a degree, and I know how to work and how to study and how to learn and some stuff about how to have relationships and I know how to make money. I just have no fucking clue how to manage money or save it or otherwise ensure that I'm not always broke and screwing up with overdraft charges and fucking up my credit. This is something I have not yet learned at all.
And that's really scary. I have a stay of execution of sorts in staying with my parents for the summer - no rent. After that, though, I'm on my own and with almost no idea of how to pull that off.
I realize now that I desperately need help, a teacher of some sort in how to do this. Soon. Now. And I need to save a lot this summer and get it under control. If I screw up my credit (I don't have cards, thankfully, so it hasn't happened yet), that's very hard to undo. I do not want that.
Also, I'm completely broke now and don't get paid until next week. It's so ironic and stupid to be this privileged, living in a nice house, typing on a nice computer, with a pretty degree I'm lucky enough not to have paid for myself, and yet to be so clueless with money that I can't even handle small life expenses. It's such a product of being spoiled, and I'm frankly ashamed of it.
What good can I do with my privilege if I just destroy it by being spoiled and ignorant? I need to get this shit figured out so I can devote my time (and time is money) and money and life to doing good things and helping people.
This, and my reaction to it, has made it finally apparent to me that I'm completely freaked - over the moon - at the concept of being a real adult and having to be financially responsible for myself. Yes, I have a degree, and I know how to work and how to study and how to learn and some stuff about how to have relationships and I know how to make money. I just have no fucking clue how to manage money or save it or otherwise ensure that I'm not always broke and screwing up with overdraft charges and fucking up my credit. This is something I have not yet learned at all.
And that's really scary. I have a stay of execution of sorts in staying with my parents for the summer - no rent. After that, though, I'm on my own and with almost no idea of how to pull that off.
I realize now that I desperately need help, a teacher of some sort in how to do this. Soon. Now. And I need to save a lot this summer and get it under control. If I screw up my credit (I don't have cards, thankfully, so it hasn't happened yet), that's very hard to undo. I do not want that.
Also, I'm completely broke now and don't get paid until next week. It's so ironic and stupid to be this privileged, living in a nice house, typing on a nice computer, with a pretty degree I'm lucky enough not to have paid for myself, and yet to be so clueless with money that I can't even handle small life expenses. It's such a product of being spoiled, and I'm frankly ashamed of it.
What good can I do with my privilege if I just destroy it by being spoiled and ignorant? I need to get this shit figured out so I can devote my time (and time is money) and money and life to doing good things and helping people.
RIP Computer
Well, my computer just officially really and truly died. I'm pretty sure the motherboard fried itself. Woo!
My friend, who is a wonderful lifesaver, is letting me borrow her extra laptop until I can get a new one of my own. I need to, like, spend some serious time kissing her feet. I'm actually excited about the whole thing, though, because now I get a new computer. I'm getting a Mac, happily going to the Dark side. They have lots more fun over there anyway.
I just finished a rough draft of my honors thesis, which is pretty much totally different than it was at the end of last semester. Yes, I used some of the writing I did then, but I've gone in a totally new direction in the last few weeks and I like it a lot better.
Basically, I'm saying we need to make better porn and then give it to children. Well, adolescents. And not in so many words. But I'm excited about it. I'll post some on here when it's a tad more polished.
Graduation in just over a month! Ack! Whee!
That is all.
My friend, who is a wonderful lifesaver, is letting me borrow her extra laptop until I can get a new one of my own. I need to, like, spend some serious time kissing her feet. I'm actually excited about the whole thing, though, because now I get a new computer. I'm getting a Mac, happily going to the Dark side. They have lots more fun over there anyway.
I just finished a rough draft of my honors thesis, which is pretty much totally different than it was at the end of last semester. Yes, I used some of the writing I did then, but I've gone in a totally new direction in the last few weeks and I like it a lot better.
Basically, I'm saying we need to make better porn and then give it to children. Well, adolescents. And not in so many words. But I'm excited about it. I'll post some on here when it's a tad more polished.
Graduation in just over a month! Ack! Whee!
That is all.
Feminism vs. Real Life
Courtney at Feministing wrote about the ways her feminist ideals differ from her actual life, and invited others to do the same. I think this is a really good exercise in self-awareness, so I'm going to try to answer her.
1. I'm incredibly self conscious about how I dress and what I look like at all times. I know that there's no need for me to always be sexy or attractive, but I can't help the running commentary in my head that compares my own appearance to other women's in a very competitive, distinctly un-feminist way. I try, but it sneaks in. (I do dress however the hell I want, but I'm very aware of when I look different from how I'm "supposed to.")
2. I have and often give into the urge to take care of people much more than I let them do so for me.
3. I make all kinds of assumptions about people based on their gender (and race and apparent sexuality) which may have nothing to do with reality. Things like men are going to be less progressive or women will be more sexually shy or black people won't want anything to do with me because I'm white or queer people won't be misogynistic. I try to be aware that I'm doing this and at least not act on my assumptions, but I know I have them.
4. I enjoy blatantly misogynistic pop culture: movies, tv shows, music, etc. Sometimes it's as a cultural critic and sometimes it's just because it's got a catchy beat or a satisfying good vs. evil plot line. I like James Bond.
5. I buy lots of products whose production I know nothing about, including beauty products, clothing, and random toys. I do try to be conscientious most of the time, but other times I just go with convenience. I'm more of a thoughtless consumer than I feel I should be.
6. On a very basic level, I take advantage of gender roles by getting guys to pay to see me naked. Most of them wouldn't do it (or at least wouldn't spend as much as they do) if the male sexual role didn't prevent them from having intimacy outside sexual situations or from finding real sexual satisfaction in their unpaid interactions. (This is a complicated issue which I'd like to talk about more in depth but haven't gathered together the time and thoughts yet.)
1. I'm incredibly self conscious about how I dress and what I look like at all times. I know that there's no need for me to always be sexy or attractive, but I can't help the running commentary in my head that compares my own appearance to other women's in a very competitive, distinctly un-feminist way. I try, but it sneaks in. (I do dress however the hell I want, but I'm very aware of when I look different from how I'm "supposed to.")
2. I have and often give into the urge to take care of people much more than I let them do so for me.
3. I make all kinds of assumptions about people based on their gender (and race and apparent sexuality) which may have nothing to do with reality. Things like men are going to be less progressive or women will be more sexually shy or black people won't want anything to do with me because I'm white or queer people won't be misogynistic. I try to be aware that I'm doing this and at least not act on my assumptions, but I know I have them.
4. I enjoy blatantly misogynistic pop culture: movies, tv shows, music, etc. Sometimes it's as a cultural critic and sometimes it's just because it's got a catchy beat or a satisfying good vs. evil plot line. I like James Bond.
5. I buy lots of products whose production I know nothing about, including beauty products, clothing, and random toys. I do try to be conscientious most of the time, but other times I just go with convenience. I'm more of a thoughtless consumer than I feel I should be.
6. On a very basic level, I take advantage of gender roles by getting guys to pay to see me naked. Most of them wouldn't do it (or at least wouldn't spend as much as they do) if the male sexual role didn't prevent them from having intimacy outside sexual situations or from finding real sexual satisfaction in their unpaid interactions. (This is a complicated issue which I'd like to talk about more in depth but haven't gathered together the time and thoughts yet.)
Hipsters Suddenly So Hip?
I've noticed this trend lately. I'm not sure if I'm just making shit up, but I think more and more people are starting to present themselves in "queer" or "alternative" ways.
Maybe it's just an instance of the mainstream starting to adopt an underground culture as it always does and this is the first time it's a culture I've identified with. I'm at an age where what I think is cool is going to be what trendy culture thinks is cool. Also, the trend that's coming into popularity is the hipster thing. It's perfectly bred to work in the mainstream. It's consumerist, focused on music, slightly pretentious.
It's not just the hipsters, though. I've been seeing a lot of girls who I'm pretty sure are straight presenting themselves in blatantly gender-variant ways. You know: lesbian pant syndrome where they're a little baggier because you just don't care or a prevalence of baggy, plaid, button-down shirts or a short shaggy haircut. It's everywhere now, I swear.
And it's confusing as hell! My gaydar is all messed up. I mean, it's probably a good thing. If mainstream culture is adopting queer ways of expressing itself, that could mean queer identity is becoming more acceptable. I think it's already a lot less stigmatized among people my own age. (The over 65 vote was definitely a huge factor in the passage of Prop 8. Is it bad for me to want the bigots to die of old age already? No violent deaths, I don't want pain for them or anything, just passing on peacefully in their sleep to the heaven they're so avidly awaiting. Is that mean?)
It is really strange, though, to be a part of something that's mainstreaming and to feel my identity as less my own. It's so external and silly to base how I feel about myself on superficial things. It's a little foolish to identify strongly with one subset of people, one way of dressing, one box in the identity column. I'm young, though; I think it comes naturally until you're ready to live simply in your own skin.
Has anyone else noticed this trend? Am I blowing smoke rings?
Maybe it's just an instance of the mainstream starting to adopt an underground culture as it always does and this is the first time it's a culture I've identified with. I'm at an age where what I think is cool is going to be what trendy culture thinks is cool. Also, the trend that's coming into popularity is the hipster thing. It's perfectly bred to work in the mainstream. It's consumerist, focused on music, slightly pretentious.
It's not just the hipsters, though. I've been seeing a lot of girls who I'm pretty sure are straight presenting themselves in blatantly gender-variant ways. You know: lesbian pant syndrome where they're a little baggier because you just don't care or a prevalence of baggy, plaid, button-down shirts or a short shaggy haircut. It's everywhere now, I swear.
And it's confusing as hell! My gaydar is all messed up. I mean, it's probably a good thing. If mainstream culture is adopting queer ways of expressing itself, that could mean queer identity is becoming more acceptable. I think it's already a lot less stigmatized among people my own age. (The over 65 vote was definitely a huge factor in the passage of Prop 8. Is it bad for me to want the bigots to die of old age already? No violent deaths, I don't want pain for them or anything, just passing on peacefully in their sleep to the heaven they're so avidly awaiting. Is that mean?)
It is really strange, though, to be a part of something that's mainstreaming and to feel my identity as less my own. It's so external and silly to base how I feel about myself on superficial things. It's a little foolish to identify strongly with one subset of people, one way of dressing, one box in the identity column. I'm young, though; I think it comes naturally until you're ready to live simply in your own skin.
Has anyone else noticed this trend? Am I blowing smoke rings?
Visible Panty Lines
I wonder why we don't eroticize visible pantylines?
Thongs, pantyhose, girdles, and all those other "shapewear" items are meant to give a woman the appearance of complete smoothness under her clothes. I mean, girdles and shapewear also literally force women's bodies into more socially acceptable shapes. Covering up panties or making them so tiny you can't see them anyway is part of that. None of these things are comfortable.
Panties are sexy, though. AND comfortable. I mean, god forbid we don't make women contort themselves to look beautiful. Then they'd have time to think about, I dunno, equality and shit.
Why shouldn't the visible bit of the edge of a pair of panties under a tight pair of pants or skirt be sexy, though? Maybe its lack implies that she's wearing no underwear. Mmmm, implied sexual availability, sexual objectification, I guess men love that.
I find that even men tend to like lingerie better than no lingerie, though. A lot of them have made jokes to me about unwrapping "the present." I've noticed that when I wear a very low-cut shirt or dress, it's sexier if I have a pretty bra showing underneath it. Maybe changing what we eroticize is a little compromise, a step towards letting women do whatever they want regardless of what men think.
And frankly, what they think doesn't matter that much. Let's forget it for a second and have a little agency in our own lives and clothing choices. I feel sexy when I'm wearing a nice pair of panties. Especially if they're pretty AND comfortable. It makes me feel good.
So why not? This can be sexy:
And it's a whole helluva lot more comfortable. I'll take my cute cotton underpants over a stiff, lacy thong any day.
Thongs, pantyhose, girdles, and all those other "shapewear" items are meant to give a woman the appearance of complete smoothness under her clothes. I mean, girdles and shapewear also literally force women's bodies into more socially acceptable shapes. Covering up panties or making them so tiny you can't see them anyway is part of that. None of these things are comfortable.
Panties are sexy, though. AND comfortable. I mean, god forbid we don't make women contort themselves to look beautiful. Then they'd have time to think about, I dunno, equality and shit.
Why shouldn't the visible bit of the edge of a pair of panties under a tight pair of pants or skirt be sexy, though? Maybe its lack implies that she's wearing no underwear. Mmmm, implied sexual availability, sexual objectification, I guess men love that.
I find that even men tend to like lingerie better than no lingerie, though. A lot of them have made jokes to me about unwrapping "the present." I've noticed that when I wear a very low-cut shirt or dress, it's sexier if I have a pretty bra showing underneath it. Maybe changing what we eroticize is a little compromise, a step towards letting women do whatever they want regardless of what men think.
And frankly, what they think doesn't matter that much. Let's forget it for a second and have a little agency in our own lives and clothing choices. I feel sexy when I'm wearing a nice pair of panties. Especially if they're pretty AND comfortable. It makes me feel good.
So why not? This can be sexy:
And it's a whole helluva lot more comfortable. I'll take my cute cotton underpants over a stiff, lacy thong any day.
Tuesday Review: Pornography: The Production and Consumption of Inequality
Okay, I know the Tuesday Reviews are kind of sporadic, but I'm a busy woman. I do my best.
This week's review isn't exactly a recommendation, more of an exercise in stretching my brain and my opinions on porn. That's important to do, and books like Pornography: The Production and Consumption of Inequality
by Gail Dines, Robert Jensen, and Ann Russo are the background for dialogues about porn and sex work today.In the interest of full disclosure, I'll admit I read this book for a research project I'm doing for my Women's Studies honors thesis. I'll be examining "feminist" porn and the tactics it uses to address critiques like the ones brought up in Pornography
. I'm starting by reading a whole slew of books written by anti-porn feminists so that I can be fluent in their criticisms of porn.One of the things that was striking to me in reading this book was the way the authors framed their arguments in relation to sex-positive feminists who they called "sexual liberals." The first couple of chapters were devoted to naming and disputing "sexually liberal" criticisms of anti-pornography feminism. As the book went on it got a little more nuanced, but the first two chapters set the tone for the narratives about porn.
I'm probably not going to make myself popular with people on either side by saying this, but I have a huge problem with the divisiveness we see surrounding the issue of porn in feminism. It's a problem on both sides, and I think it's really unproductive.
I agree with the anti-porn feminists that a lot of porn does represent and reinforce the patriarchal gender roles of our society. Including a tendency towards violence against women.
I agree with the sex positive feminists that porn can be a very powerful tool for exploring and expressing female sexuality. I think that any consciously navigated choice to be sexual as a woman is an act of rebellion against the stupid virgin/whore complex.
Which, by the way, is hugely at play in the conflict between these groups. The anti-porners basically call the sex pos-ers whores for advocating for what they see as the always patriarchal representations of sex in porn. The sex pos-ers call the anti-porners prudes for criticizing sex and porn and fucked up power dynamics between men and women.
It's a bad show.
I'm having a real "Ack! I've been identifying solely with one side of this argument, but I think the other has solid points too!" kind of moment.
I still think that the sex positive movement has a more productive approach to porn: actually making porn and REconstructing gender roles in it by altering the circumstances of its production and consumption. However, I don't think they'd be much of anywhere without the efforts of the anti-porn movement to highlight the sexual inequalities that are prevalent everywhere.
I think that where the anti-porn movement reacts to a negative sexual situation in our country, the pro-sex movement acts to change it. That's why I'm writing about feminist porn; I want to see how they're doing.
After that long word vomit, back to the book. I did really like the last few chapters where the authors talked more about their personal interactions with porn and how it affected them emotionally. These three closing essays showed, finally, a much more complex view of how to deal with porn.
I think that in the end these three are somewhat open to dealing with sex positive types (or "sexual liberals" as they're called in the book). I hope that we can all find a common ground. We're all working towards the same thing anyway: equality between men and women.
Cross posted at Fourth Wave Feminism
Tuesday Review: Bitch Magazine
This is more of a rave than a review, but I figured it counts.
If you spend any time in the feminist blog-o-sphere, you already know that Bitch Magazine has been in trouble. They've been holding a donation drive to raise enough money to put out their next issue (which they did, thank god) but there is a big question about how they will create sustainable strategies to keep going as an independent magazine.
If you're convinced already, donate here to help them keep things going. Subscriptions give them money and get you the magazine, and like they said even small amounts help. I'm not exactly rolling in cash on my work break, and I gave my $20.
Bitch is a wonderful magazine. I've been reading it since I was a freshman three years ago, and it's one of the things that made me feel comfortable to start calling myself a feminist.
Yep, that's right. For about six months at the end of high school, I was one of those "I'm not a feminist, but..." types. You know, finish the sentence with any variety of "I believe in equal rights for men and women." If you read my blog, you already know that I'm still not 100% satisfied with the word "feminist," but I do proudly and loudly identify as one. I am definitely an activist and strongly believe in sex equality. I am a feminist.
Bitch also introduced me to sex-positive feminism. They ran an article about the different kinds of feminism, followed by an interview with sex-positive heroine Susie Bright. It was the first time I had encountered anyone who had an ethical, activist, intellectual interest in sex, who thought it was a legitimate thing to be interested in.
I pretty much cried with relief. I got on the phone with my then-boyfriend and told him all about it. I'd been enduring the slut label for years and it hadn't occurred to me that there were other people around like me. There were people I could look up to, people I could learn from.
Bitch prints all kinds of feminist pop culture goodness: essays analyzing movies, books, and music, interviews of pertinent people, discussion of various feminist movements (because there are many), etc. They are probably the most important feminist voice in the last decade.
So Bitch is a winner, check them out and help them stick around!
If you spend any time in the feminist blog-o-sphere, you already know that Bitch Magazine has been in trouble. They've been holding a donation drive to raise enough money to put out their next issue (which they did, thank god) but there is a big question about how they will create sustainable strategies to keep going as an independent magazine.
If you're convinced already, donate here to help them keep things going. Subscriptions give them money and get you the magazine, and like they said even small amounts help. I'm not exactly rolling in cash on my work break, and I gave my $20.
Bitch is a wonderful magazine. I've been reading it since I was a freshman three years ago, and it's one of the things that made me feel comfortable to start calling myself a feminist.
Yep, that's right. For about six months at the end of high school, I was one of those "I'm not a feminist, but..." types. You know, finish the sentence with any variety of "I believe in equal rights for men and women." If you read my blog, you already know that I'm still not 100% satisfied with the word "feminist," but I do proudly and loudly identify as one. I am definitely an activist and strongly believe in sex equality. I am a feminist.
Bitch also introduced me to sex-positive feminism. They ran an article about the different kinds of feminism, followed by an interview with sex-positive heroine Susie Bright. It was the first time I had encountered anyone who had an ethical, activist, intellectual interest in sex, who thought it was a legitimate thing to be interested in.
I pretty much cried with relief. I got on the phone with my then-boyfriend and told him all about it. I'd been enduring the slut label for years and it hadn't occurred to me that there were other people around like me. There were people I could look up to, people I could learn from.
Bitch prints all kinds of feminist pop culture goodness: essays analyzing movies, books, and music, interviews of pertinent people, discussion of various feminist movements (because there are many), etc. They are probably the most important feminist voice in the last decade.
So Bitch is a winner, check them out and help them stick around!
Tuesday Review: The LayaSpot from Fun Factory
I'm starting a new weekly review! It's on Tuesdays because unexpectedly life-altering things always happen on Tuesdays. It's that day of the week that sneaks up on you. So maybe my reviews will change your life. Mwahahahaha.
I know there are a million bloggers (and especially sex bloggers) writing reviews of sex toys and other sexy shit all the time. I'm going to do that, too, but I also want to write about books that have blown my little feminist mind and movies that have stretched my imagination. I'll write about porn, too. Hell, I'll talk about random office products or food items if the mood strikes me. (You'd be surprised how sexy some paper weights can be.)
So this shall be the Everything Review.
Starting wiiiiiiiiiiiiith:
The LayaSpot Vibrator from Fun Factory
This is my favorite vibrator. That's why I'm reviewing it first. I've had it for years, and it lives on my bedside table instead of in the drawer with the rest of them. To put it away would be silly - I use it too often. I've gotten many other toys, but none of them have successfully unseated my Laya in its place of honor.
The biggest reason for this is that the Laya has the perfect level of vibration for me. Everyone is different, but I'm not always in the mood for a powerhouse like the Hitachi Magic Wand. The Laya has some kick; it's definitely more of a buzz than a tickle, but it doesn't leave my hands and clit numb unless I use it for a good long time. If a tiny tickle is a 1 and a motorcycle rumble is a 5, I'd say the Laya rates a 3 on the vibration scale.
It's also pretty quiet. When I had a roommate, I used it plenty of times when she was asleep across the room, and she's never heard it. And yeah, I asked her. We're pretty close like that.
I use the Laya as an external vibe. I really like how it covers my whole vulva, so I get stimulation on my lips, urethra, and the opening of my vagina as well as on my clit. I can see how you'd use it by inserting the hard plastic end into the vagina and letting the rest of the body of the vibrator touch the lips and clit. It's kind of an awkward angle to do this, though, so I wouldn't especially recommend it as an internal vibrator.
It's got very user-friendly controls. It's super easy to push the buttons and change the vibration while you're using it. There's a little nub on the plus button, so you can just feel your way and adjust as you go. The seven speeds of vibration are continuous, so you can just push the plus or minus button until you get to a place you like.
It also has three speeds of pulsation. The only problem with the pulsation is that you have to turn the vibrator all the way up before you get to the pulsation programs. This means that in order to turn it off when it's pulsating you have to push the minus button all the way through the vibration speeds. This isn't as speedy as it might need to be.
The Laya is made out of elastomer and hard plastic, so it's easy to clean and there are no icky pthalates to make your vagina smell funny or cause health complications. You can get it wet, but don't submerge or boil it, as you don't want to damage the motor.
It comes in a variety of pretty colors. Mine is pink because I so love the irony of a girly-ass color on something I use for dirty things.
One drawback to this toy is that it uses AAA batteries instead of being rechargeable. It's waaaaaaay cheaper than rechargeable vibes, though, so if you're looking for an affordable vibe this might not matter that much to you. I'll be happy when I find a comparable toy that doesn't make me worry about the affect my masturbation has on my carbon footprint.
I love to lie on my stomach with the Laya between my legs while a man fucks me from behind. It's not quite small or soft enough to use during vaginal intercourse if you're really into the missionary position, but I'm sure you can be more creative than that. It's also easy to hold while a man or woman has a hand (or a few fingers) inside me.
The Bottom Line: I love the Laya, and recommend it for anyone who likes moderately strong clitoral stimulation.
I know there are a million bloggers (and especially sex bloggers) writing reviews of sex toys and other sexy shit all the time. I'm going to do that, too, but I also want to write about books that have blown my little feminist mind and movies that have stretched my imagination. I'll write about porn, too. Hell, I'll talk about random office products or food items if the mood strikes me. (You'd be surprised how sexy some paper weights can be.)
So this shall be the Everything Review.
Starting wiiiiiiiiiiiiith:
The LayaSpot Vibrator from Fun Factory
This is my favorite vibrator. That's why I'm reviewing it first. I've had it for years, and it lives on my bedside table instead of in the drawer with the rest of them. To put it away would be silly - I use it too often. I've gotten many other toys, but none of them have successfully unseated my Laya in its place of honor.
The biggest reason for this is that the Laya has the perfect level of vibration for me. Everyone is different, but I'm not always in the mood for a powerhouse like the Hitachi Magic Wand. The Laya has some kick; it's definitely more of a buzz than a tickle, but it doesn't leave my hands and clit numb unless I use it for a good long time. If a tiny tickle is a 1 and a motorcycle rumble is a 5, I'd say the Laya rates a 3 on the vibration scale.
It's also pretty quiet. When I had a roommate, I used it plenty of times when she was asleep across the room, and she's never heard it. And yeah, I asked her. We're pretty close like that.
I use the Laya as an external vibe. I really like how it covers my whole vulva, so I get stimulation on my lips, urethra, and the opening of my vagina as well as on my clit. I can see how you'd use it by inserting the hard plastic end into the vagina and letting the rest of the body of the vibrator touch the lips and clit. It's kind of an awkward angle to do this, though, so I wouldn't especially recommend it as an internal vibrator.
It's got very user-friendly controls. It's super easy to push the buttons and change the vibration while you're using it. There's a little nub on the plus button, so you can just feel your way and adjust as you go. The seven speeds of vibration are continuous, so you can just push the plus or minus button until you get to a place you like.
It also has three speeds of pulsation. The only problem with the pulsation is that you have to turn the vibrator all the way up before you get to the pulsation programs. This means that in order to turn it off when it's pulsating you have to push the minus button all the way through the vibration speeds. This isn't as speedy as it might need to be.
The Laya is made out of elastomer and hard plastic, so it's easy to clean and there are no icky pthalates to make your vagina smell funny or cause health complications. You can get it wet, but don't submerge or boil it, as you don't want to damage the motor.
It comes in a variety of pretty colors. Mine is pink because I so love the irony of a girly-ass color on something I use for dirty things.
One drawback to this toy is that it uses AAA batteries instead of being rechargeable. It's waaaaaaay cheaper than rechargeable vibes, though, so if you're looking for an affordable vibe this might not matter that much to you. I'll be happy when I find a comparable toy that doesn't make me worry about the affect my masturbation has on my carbon footprint.
I love to lie on my stomach with the Laya between my legs while a man fucks me from behind. It's not quite small or soft enough to use during vaginal intercourse if you're really into the missionary position, but I'm sure you can be more creative than that. It's also easy to hold while a man or woman has a hand (or a few fingers) inside me.
The Bottom Line: I love the Laya, and recommend it for anyone who likes moderately strong clitoral stimulation.
Sexy Clothings
I have decided that I need a Sugar Daddy/Mommy/Friend/Whatever to buy me expensive beautiful lingerie. Because I want it.
That and socks. And stockings. And sexy shoes.
Sock Dreams. Oh, how I love you.
Oh hell. If I had a million dollars I'd have so much hot loungewear even I would not be able to have enough sex to keep up with the costume changes.
That and socks. And stockings. And sexy shoes.
Sock Dreams. Oh, how I love you.
Oh hell. If I had a million dollars I'd have so much hot loungewear even I would not be able to have enough sex to keep up with the costume changes.
Buyin' Bodies
I've been on a quest for porn lately. Despite my interest in sexuality and sexual culture, I never really learned much about porn. I feel like I'm behind the times, and I want to catch up.
So I've been trolling for websites and generally spending winter vacation being a busy porn seeker. I've had some success, but I'm still feeling tentative. Like so many other people, I've seen lots of porn that was more of a turn off than a turn on. I'm excited, though, to find some things that actually float my boat.
I had a strange experience recently, in the midst of this quest. I had just gotten access to Suicide Girls—you know, the popular website with nude pinup photos of alt-y young women with tattoos and piercings and colored hair. Each woman on the site has a page, informing the public of her age, interests, occupation, etc, and links to each of her photo shoots, with titles like “Red Doll Army,” “Rainy Afternoon Kitten,” and “Lovely Lounger.” There are about a thousand Suicide Girls, and I browsed through, trying to figure out which ones I wanted to look at more closely, who I wanted to see naked.
On the Suicide Girls website, there is a new section for Suicide Boys, alt-y tattooed men who put photos of themselves online for women (and other men) to browse through. However, there are no profession photo shoots in this section of the website. There is no official Suicide Boys website, it's simply a subgroup of the part of Suicide Girls that's "like Myspace for adults." Anyone can post his photos. I'm glad it exists, but even on the progressive Suicide Girls site, it's a lesser, less popular section.
I wish that it was a better frequented part of the site. That more women could and would go check out the hot guys. I didn't feel entirely comfortable with what I was doing once I realized that I was in such a consumer's mindset in terms of the Suicide Girls' bodies, but maybe it was actually an important thing for me to do. I was exploring my sexual tastes and fantasies, and giving myself permission to choose who I wanted to look at. I'm learning to apply that in the real world: choosing who I sleep with based on my desires instead of always just going with those who want me. I suppose that's revolutionary in its own way, not giving in to the desires of men to boost my self esteem. I hope more women begin to do it, so that the commodification of sexuality stops being so gender biased. Let's encourage those Suicide Boys.
So I've been trolling for websites and generally spending winter vacation being a busy porn seeker. I've had some success, but I'm still feeling tentative. Like so many other people, I've seen lots of porn that was more of a turn off than a turn on. I'm excited, though, to find some things that actually float my boat.
I had a strange experience recently, in the midst of this quest. I had just gotten access to Suicide Girls—you know, the popular website with nude pinup photos of alt-y young women with tattoos and piercings and colored hair. Each woman on the site has a page, informing the public of her age, interests, occupation, etc, and links to each of her photo shoots, with titles like “Red Doll Army,” “Rainy Afternoon Kitten,” and “Lovely Lounger.” There are about a thousand Suicide Girls, and I browsed through, trying to figure out which ones I wanted to look at more closely, who I wanted to see naked.
It was my first real experience with being a consumer of nudity, of this kind of porn. I've done some porn shopping before, particularly in the last month, but never like this. Here, there are so many face shots, so many bios, and I am literally looking through them to decide what I want. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a blonde today, I’m thinking dark hair.” “She’s sweet looking, but I don’t think I like her tattoos.” It’s very literally being a consumer. I am weighing the products I’m going to buy—except that the products are women.
As a stripper, I'm usually on the other end of that transaction. Every time there's a shift change at work, all the dancers on the clock get up on the stage and pose and prance around together so the gentleman callers can peruse their options. The management calls it "cabaret." One of my coworkers refers to it as "the auction block." Even given this, some men will wait until the end of the night to buy a dance. They want to make sure they get the product—the girl—they like the most. It’s the same thing. Buying a woman.
On the Suicide Girls website, there is a new section for Suicide Boys, alt-y tattooed men who put photos of themselves online for women (and other men) to browse through. However, there are no profession photo shoots in this section of the website. There is no official Suicide Boys website, it's simply a subgroup of the part of Suicide Girls that's "like Myspace for adults." Anyone can post his photos. I'm glad it exists, but even on the progressive Suicide Girls site, it's a lesser, less popular section.
I wish that it was a better frequented part of the site. That more women could and would go check out the hot guys. I didn't feel entirely comfortable with what I was doing once I realized that I was in such a consumer's mindset in terms of the Suicide Girls' bodies, but maybe it was actually an important thing for me to do. I was exploring my sexual tastes and fantasies, and giving myself permission to choose who I wanted to look at. I'm learning to apply that in the real world: choosing who I sleep with based on my desires instead of always just going with those who want me. I suppose that's revolutionary in its own way, not giving in to the desires of men to boost my self esteem. I hope more women begin to do it, so that the commodification of sexuality stops being so gender biased. Let's encourage those Suicide Boys.
On living, loving, learning, and fucking with the materials I've got at hand.
This work by anewparadox.blogspot.com is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Some of the content on this blog may be unsuitable for those under 18. If you're underage, try Scarleteen.com for info on sex.
