“When I told a gentleman that I am 45, he was shocked. He wondered what I know that Ponce de Leon did not. Mainly it is a refusal to be a grown-up … I have never been married, which has spared me the unhappiness of that, and the misery of a divorce. Or two. Or three. I don’t have kids, so I don’t invest energy in telling people how gifted my children are, or in figuring out how deep into the spectrum of autism they fall—nor do I turn over my hard-earned cash to SAT tutors and Mandarin coaches. Of course, I have been deprived of the pleasure of breastfeeding my baby on a barstool in a Park Slope tavern while nursing a Campari and soda, but I will survive the privation.”
– This is Elizabeth Wurtzel‘s sage advice on how to look young for your age. I had barely recovered from her last rant and already she’s back to further infuriate women in a new Atlantic piece about how to refuse to be a grownup. Naturally, she’s spewing her special brand of nasty put-downs aimed at women who aren’t like her. So … everyone. You can read more of her advice, which is dripping with judgement and narcissism, if you dare. Some of it I would be inclined to follow (“I do what I want. I don’t do what other people want me to do. Sometimes I don’t do things I want to do because someone else wants me to do them too badly”) if she weren’t so damn obnoxious. [The Atlantic]
This piece was republished with permission from Role/Reboot.
This week I read a wonderful article about our generation’s search for meaning by fellow Role/Reboot contributor Kerry Cohen. It spoke to me so deeply that I went out of my way to read the article that had inspired Cohen: Elizabeth Wurtzel’s recent meandering confessional. It made me so angry my hair nearly caught fire.
I had been primed by Cohen to be compassionate and thoughtful about what Wurtzel was saying. So I took off my judgmental hat as I read about her life. I tried to see the world through the eyes of someone who has lived a life so foreign from my own I could barely wrap my brain around it. When she wrote that she was proud to have never kissed anyone for any reason other than desire or written anything that she did not feel like writing, I questioned my own ideas about kissing and writing rather than immediately assuming hers were perhaps a bit shallow. I decided that she could have done far worse things with her life, like becoming a parent who is a narcissistic dilettante. Keep reading »
I just had the extreme displeasure of reading Elizabeth Wurtzel’s essay for The Atlantic, about how rich stay-at-home moms are “anti-feminist and helping make the ‘war on women’ possible.” In the opener, Wurtzel says that she wants to “smack the next woman who says that raising her children full time—and by that means going to yoga classes and pedicure appointments while the nanny babysits —is her feminist choice.” Why yes, we’d all want to smack that woman too. Does she even exist?
To be honest, I seriously doubt that even the wealthy 1 percent women are going around making up excuses for why they don’t work—they’re rich enough not to, and surely don’t feel defensive about it. So it really seems that Wurtzel is just pissed that some women out there can afford what she perceives to be a life of leisure. She bashes them by saying people who don’t pay their own rent and bills are immature and anti-feminist. Actually, what Wurtzel is doing is immature and anti-feminist. Sure, everyone is jealous of rich women from time to time, but to take a personal axe-to-grind and pretend it’s about feminism is a total joke. Keep reading »
I am going to smack the next idiot who tells me that raising her children full time — by which she really means going to Jivamukti classes and pedicure appointments while the nanny babysits — is her feminist choice.
This is how writer Elizabeth Wurtzel begins a piece on TheAtlantic.com entitled titled “1 Percent Wives Are Helping To Kill Feminism And Make The War On Women Possible.”
You know, subtle.
And it goes downhill from there. Keep reading »