It was easy to roll one’s eyes at Elizabeth Wurtzel’s recent piece on TheAtlantic.com, “1 Percent Wives Are Helping To Kill Feminism And Make The War On Women Possible.” Although I understand the point Wurtzel was trying to make (educated women who don’t advance in the workforce and financially support themselves/their families are bad for feminism) she couched the whole thing in kind of bombastic, linkbait-y statements like, “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.”
But I want to go a little deeper than the eye-rolling. I want to look at the phenomenon of self-described feminists — like Wurtzel — judging other women’s choices. Keep reading »
He liked to talk in bed — a lot, and always dirty — and, as part of his rhetorical repertoire, he liked to tell me about other women he’d been with while he was getting me off. He’d whisper in my ear about how this one went down on him while he told her what a whore she was, or how that one responded when he called her a slut while she was on her knees in front of him. When I told him he wasn’t allowed to call other women by my name — “slut” — anymore, he kissed me so hard I couldn’t breathe and nailed me until I couldn’t see straight. Keep reading »
You remember Chescaleigh from the “Shit White Girls Say To Black Girls” videos? Of course you do. She’s back, this time with a new video about street harassment in which she plays both the loser with no game “hssssss”-ing her on the street and the woman minding-her-own business who has to deal with his catcalls. “Here’s what I don’t understand,” she says. “Are these guys really so desperate, horny, and insecure about their penis size that they are willing to hit on anything? And I mean anything, because they don’t really seem to discriminate.” Yes, Chescaleigh, they really are. Clearly I need to tell you about the time I was catcalled last summer while wearing a fucking eyepatch. [YouTube]
An unidentified reproductive rights activist was forced off her American Airlines flight because her pro-choice T-shirt was “offensive” to the crew.
What did this shirt say? It was the slogan popularized by Oklahoma State Senator Judy McIntyre earlier this year on a famous sign: “If I wanted the government in my womb, I’d fuck a senator.” Keep reading »
While we’ve been covering all of the fashion at Cannes, there seems to be a more unsavory undercurrent on the scene: in the 64 years of the festival, just one woman has claimed the most esteemed Palme d’Or award, and this year’s total lack of female directors in the awards’ lineup has sparked international backlash among feminists. Whether Cannes has provided warranted grounds for contention is still up in the air. A petition hosted on Change.org entitled “Cannes Film Festival: Where Are The Women Directors?” has garnered over 2,000 signees, with feminist icon Gloria Steinem, “The Vagina Monologues” playwright Eve Ensler, and award-winning Australian director Gillian Armstrong among them. However, last year’s nominations for the top prize featured four movies by women, while last month’s Tribeca Film Festival in Manhattan had a heavy female presence, with many of the event’s 90 films both focusing on female protagonists and directed by women. At the time, Daryl Wein, the director of “Lola Versus” starring Greta Gerwig, said, “It’s a moment happening now for women in film.” Keep reading »
“So, should I be calling you something different now?”
The bartender at my local bar walked hurriedly over to my table last week as I sat with my 5 p.m. Hefeweizen, wrapping up the day’s work on my laptop. He looked genuinely worried that, when I’d walked into the bar, he’d somehow offended me by calling me what most of my favorite bartenders over the years have ended up calling me, which is: “Mizz Grimes!”
I don’t know why they’ve all tended to pick up “Mizz Grimes,” but they have, and I love it. It makes me feel fancy and Southern, and there’s something about the way Texas bartenders say “Graiihhhhmmmz” as they’re grabbing a Lone Star or a High Life out of the cooler that just sounds right.
It was the first time someone who didn’t know me well, but who did know that I’d gotten married last month, had asked me about changing my name. Keep reading »
Today In People Are Terrible, a reverend named Jesse Lee Peterson has claimed women “can’t handle stress,” “go nuts,” and “freak out” and therefore shouldn’t be allowed to vote.
In a speech for his organization, BOND, a conservative African-American group which claims to promote “Men, Families and Faith,” Rev. Peterson longed for “the good old days” when “men were tougher” and “in charge.” (Are we shocked to learn this gentleman is also a frequent guest of Sean Hannity’s on Fox News?) Why, he even calls his own grandma “crazy” — and is nostalgic for the days when men like his grandfather would “deal with it.”
You can watch Rev. Peterson’s speech, or I’ve transcribed most of his misogyny-spewing speech after the jump (with the most WTF-iest WTF parts in bold!): Keep reading »
It’s not an accident that when I rummage through my underwear drawer on laundry day, the only pair I can find is a lacy red thong or a silky black G-string. I wear my favorite intimates first, and am then left with the rest as a last resort. But in my case, the last resort is what other people would call “sexy lingerie.”
Yes, I’m a lover of granny panties.
Back in high school, I joined in with the rest of my friends were trying on tiny undies and thong shopping. This is the only reason I own “sexy underwear” to begin with — they’re left over from my experimental days. As I grew up, I came to two conclusions. One, granny panties are fucking comfortable, and two, the only person I should worry about impressing is myself. Keep reading »