“A princess should be sexy. She is young, she is beautiful – I would like to create something special for her, but nothing too bold. I would like to prove to the world that Roberto Cavalli can dress a princess. Maybe I would use a print, keeping it young, sophisticated and sexy. Just because you are queen or princess it doesn’t mean you can’t be sexy.”
– Cinderella, watch out. If Robert Cavalli was your fairy godmother, that beautiful blue ball gown would have been a cleavage-bearing bandage dress. As if our dear Duchess of Cambridge didn’t have enough to worry about (it’s not like the heir to the royal throne is growing inside her or anything), she now has to be a “sexy,” according to Cavalli. Keep reading »
I was so sure I was having a boy. I’d even given my baby a boy name, and I talked to my belly and told him he was a great son. A strong, noble, excellent son. People said, “A mother knows…” and nodded along with me.
Not this mother. Apparently, this mother doesn’t know shit.
“Can you tell if he’s a boy or a girl?” I asked the sonographer at the 20 week ultrasound, just to be sure.
She bit her lip and tried not to smile. “Oh yes. I can tell.”
He was a girl. She had always been a girl. I burst into overwhelmed tears. And then something shameful happened. Instead of being fully happy, the way every new mother is supposed to, I was worried. I was worried that she would look like me. Keep reading »
Because that seems to be the point.
This isn’t a real pregnant 70-year-old, though. She’s a British TV host, Kate Garraway, who is 46 and warning young women through the First Response Early Result Pregnancy campaign to MAKE BABIES NOW. Like, right now. Garraway got involved in the campaign because she had her two children at ages 38 and 42 and now is unable to have more. So to scare women about the terrors of old mommies, Garraway got done up in prosthetics to look like a 70-year-old who is heavily pregnant.
Except … no. Keep reading »
A woman is selling genuinely positive pregnancy tests via Craiglist, I guess because she’s pregnant and doesn’t mind peeing on lots of sticks. In the Craiglist post she writes:
Yes, you saw that right! I am selling positive pregnancy tests! Ever since I became pregnant, I have been asked numerous times for a positive test, so I decided to start charging for it! I will take the test the same day you want to pick it up! I dont care what you use it for, not my business! ;)
I am always near my phone, so just send an e-mail!
All that for just $25! Now, let’s just think about why you might want someone else’s used preggo stick. (All of the reasons are vaguely related to “The Maury Povitch Show,” for sure)
Keep reading »
Yesterday, a woman named Christy Zink testifed before the House Judiciary Committee’s Subcomittee on the Constitution and Civil Justice to discuss a bill proposed by Rep. Trent Franks to ban abortions after 20 weeks. Zink spoke about her difficult decision in 2009 to have an abortion at 22 weeks after she learned the fetus she was carrying was severely disabled.
In response to her testimony, Texas Rep. Louie Gohmert, also a Republican, publicly shamed Zink and her family for terminating a late-term pregnancy and suggested she should have carried the possibly nonviable pregnancy to term just on principle. Keep reading »
When I was pregnant, my clothing had one main requirement: comfort. I was mostly concerned with what would help support my growing belly on my slight frame, especially toward the end of my pregnancy when I developed symphysis pubic dysfunction (a fancy way of saying that my pelvic joint was unstable and caused me near constant pain whenever I moved). I was fortunate that during the latter half of my pregnancy I was focused on finishing my graduate thesis, thus fashion didn’t factor much into my days spent behind a computer screen or between library book shelves. In fact, my daily uniform of yoga pants, long t-shirts, a puffy vest, and comfy sneakers didn’t seem to phase me or the number of folks I came in contact with.
In retrospect, I consider myself very lucky. Keep reading »
“I love a good piece of dolphin meat on my plate, but every time I feel bad for eating an endangered animal,” 32-year-old artist, Ai Hasegawa, told Vice. “We’re soon going to be facing a global food shortage crisis. But I still want to give life, I don’t want 30 years of painful menstruation to have all been in vain. And I want to eat good meat.”
What 30-something woman hasn’t been faced with such dilemmas concerning food and reproduction? While most of us chose to avoid dolphin meat/baby making, hoping the problem would rectify itself, Ai Hasegawa got busy looking for options that were “less costly than raising a human” with “fewer responsibilities.” To reconcile both her desire to give life and her need to eat good meat, she came up with an unconventional solution: the idea of women birthing endangered species and eating them.
Hasegawa’s project, “I wanna deliver a Shark…,” tackles “the problem of human reproduction in an age of over-population and environmental crisis” with a literal attempt to birth a shark. And why a shark? Because, her initial research suggests that sharks are the most compatible with the human body and “they’re endangered, their life-span is almost as long as that of a human, and most importantly, they’re delicious.” Keep reading »
A school district in Michigan has banned two pregnant teen girls from showing their bellies in the high school yearbook, claiming it goes against the school district’s abstinence-only sex ed policy. “It’s our feeling … that (the photos) could very well be a contrary message to (the state policy),” White Could Public Schools Superintendent Barry Seabrook said. “We’re not saying they can’t have their photos in the yearbook.” But they do have to reshoot waist-up photos in the yearbook if they want to be included.
Keep reading »
Last summer, I had my first panic attack, and it was induced by children.
By the way, I don’t have any kids.
During an office baby shower, a female colleague about 15 years my senior reminded me that I was next, since I was married, 27, and only had an estimated 12 percent of my eggs left. Highly inappropriate? Hells to the yes. And effective. It freaked me out.
Four months later, I was having a particularly rough morning at work. I couldn’t stop getting interrupted and my to-do list kept getting longer. I suddenly felt massively overwhelmed. My brain went into a crazy-spiral: If I can’t get my work done today, I can’t get home and write the screenplay of the century, and it’ll take me forever to become the Nora Ephron of my generation, and I will be letting down every woman and brown person in America by not unleashing my voice to the masses, and I won’t be able to have a baby until there’s at least some small sign that I could accomplish that, because I’m not trying to be some resentful, broke mom with “dreams.”
I blacked out at my desk for a minute, popped an Advil and sat in a nearby park for an hour inhaling an economy-sized bag of popcorn.
That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Keep reading »