An end to violence?
I feel slightly inappropriate today. I turn up to work looking like Bettie Page and discover it's International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. But where exactly does BDSM sit in relation to feminism? To the uninitiated, it may look like any woman who takes the submissive role in BDSM play is in no position to refer to herself as a feminist. However, there is a huge difference in the sort of thing that Bettie et al got up to and that which the United Nations seeks to eliminate. BDSM should always be "safe, sane and consensual", whereas the UN is calling for an end to the likes of rape, domestic violence, sex trafficking, so-called "honour" crimes and female genital mutilation/cutting. There is no consent in these cases, just horrific unnessary violence. Some people may suggest that images of BDSM activities promote violence towards women, just as they claim that pornography encourages rape, but surely it's only the extremely hardcore and difficult to find examples that could even possibly be considered to support this theory? In addition, I think you'll find that the majority of porn 'users' do not have even the slightest urge to force themselves on another human being, either before or after watching anything that claims to depict that. Hmm, I think more research and a longer article from me beckons on this subject...
Who is Blush?
I was in Boots at lunch time and spotted, next to the Children in Need collection tins at the tills, some charity pin badges for sale. At this time of year, I expect to see Pudsey's smiling face encouraging me to donate money to this worthy cause, but this time he was with someone else. A girl bear.
Two things bugged me about this. Firstly, why does this charity feel the need to spend money on pointless additions to its brand that could no doubt be better spent elsewhere? Secondly, the representation of this new character, Blush. Why does Pudsey need a girl by his side, and why is she so bloody meek! A quick rummage on the BBC Children in Need website revealed that the irritatingly named Blush has girlish pink cheeks and a coy demeanour because, "is quite shy as she's not used to the attention that Pudsey gets". Also, Puds thinks his friend is, "caring, helpful and kind". Want to chuck in any more gender stereotypes while you're at it?
The question of why they needed a female character in the first place is answered by the briefly mentioned Strictly Come Dancing tie-in and, putting all other annoyances aside, I can see why they did it. Get Pudsey dancing in order to get millions of Strictly viewers donating, which will hopefully greatly increse the amount raised for the charity this year. Fair enough. However, my main problem with this character is the sale of related merchandise and the inevitable 'Pudsey for the boys' and 'Blush for the girls'. OK, it's for charity, but that still doesn't excuse the subtle message to kids that boys are allowed to be confident but girls should quiet, and kept in the background.
On the surface it seems that little has changed in the three years since Rosalyn Ball wrote about gender stereotyping of toys for the F-Word. I guess I'll find out myself when I go looking for Christmas gifts for my 7 and 9-year old nieces soon.
Two things bugged me about this. Firstly, why does this charity feel the need to spend money on pointless additions to its brand that could no doubt be better spent elsewhere? Secondly, the representation of this new character, Blush. Why does Pudsey need a girl by his side, and why is she so bloody meek! A quick rummage on the BBC Children in Need website revealed that the irritatingly named Blush has girlish pink cheeks and a coy demeanour because, "is quite shy as she's not used to the attention that Pudsey gets". Also, Puds thinks his friend is, "caring, helpful and kind". Want to chuck in any more gender stereotypes while you're at it?
The question of why they needed a female character in the first place is answered by the briefly mentioned Strictly Come Dancing tie-in and, putting all other annoyances aside, I can see why they did it. Get Pudsey dancing in order to get millions of Strictly viewers donating, which will hopefully greatly increse the amount raised for the charity this year. Fair enough. However, my main problem with this character is the sale of related merchandise and the inevitable 'Pudsey for the boys' and 'Blush for the girls'. OK, it's for charity, but that still doesn't excuse the subtle message to kids that boys are allowed to be confident but girls should quiet, and kept in the background.
On the surface it seems that little has changed in the three years since Rosalyn Ball wrote about gender stereotyping of toys for the F-Word. I guess I'll find out myself when I go looking for Christmas gifts for my 7 and 9-year old nieces soon.
It's not all like Pretty Woman
A couple of days ago, one of the best kept blogging secrets was revealed when Belle de Jour scuppered the Daily Fail's proposed exclusive by outing herself in the Sunday Times. Much has been said since then, by bloggers who'd known for years but kindly kept quiet and by sexbloggers who'd lost their anonymity in a less controlled fashion, but I didn't feel it worth commenting on the matter until now. According to Tanya Gold in today's Guardian, we are all simpletons who fail to understand that one person's experiences do not sum up the experience of a vaguely similar group. According to Tanya Gold, prostitution has been sanitised and we should remember that it kills. Yes, KILLS! If someone's selling £20 blowjobs on street corners to fund their crack habit and then telling people the 'job' is glamorous, I could understand why Gold would be so concerned. However, Brooke Magnanti's well-written anonymous blog was so gripping and truthful that it didn't manage to lure me into prostitution with the mention of possible earnings of £200 an hour. She didn't glamorise it. I wonder if Gold actually read the same blog I did. It's one thing to write an article on the horrors of prostitution because now seems like a good time to remind people, but quite another to suggest there's a link there that we're all to stupid to make.
Update: Just realised that Gold probably didn't read Magnanti's blog at all. She probably just watched ITV series The Secret Diary Of A Call Girl. I realised thanks to Penny Red who has written a much more interesting blog post on the same subject. Well worth a look.
Update: Just realised that Gold probably didn't read Magnanti's blog at all. She probably just watched ITV series The Secret Diary Of A Call Girl. I realised thanks to Penny Red who has written a much more interesting blog post on the same subject. Well worth a look.
Now that's a first
I've made many offers in my time (dinner, drinks, dates, sex etc) and have had many turned down, but never before has someone refused an offer of my friendship. After you've met me, if you don't want to see me again due to boredom/personality clash that's fair enough, but to reject me straight off when I'm apparently just what you're looking for in a friend... just as well I'm not the paranoid type, eh?
What style means to me
As a child I wanted to be a fashion designer. I didn’t have a very clear idea about what that would involve as a career, but I knew I loved drawing clothes and figured that was the most important thing. When I drew a backless strapless evening gown and my mother asked me how the bodice would stay up, I realised that perhaps there was a little more to it than I’d first thought but resolved to persevere anyway. By the time I reached secondary school, my interest in fashion was becoming more of an obsession as I began to research designers with almost as much fervour as I did pop stars. Fashion magazines helped with my knowledge of the styles of the day, while GCSE textiles helped me gain a better understanding of the practical aspects of cutting and sewing fabric to make garments. However, by the age of 16 I was pretty sure that I would only be making clothes using patterns designed by experts as I really didn’t have the creative skills and practical understanding that combine to make an expert. Although I was still a fashion fanatic, the dream of being a designer was fading away.
In sixth-form we could wear our own clothes although, being an all-girls school, the rules stated that we were not allowed to wear trousers. This was a rather arcane dress code that we all assumed was kept in place to help us appear more ladylike to the outside world but, instead of simply stopping us looking scruffy in jeans, it meant that we had to be a bit more creative with the way we dressed. Whilst expanding my wardrobe to include more garments that would be acceptable to wear to school, I chose items not because they went with something I already owned, but because I loved them. This, inevitably, lead to some rather peculiar outfit combinations but, as it was ‘only’ school, I didn’t feel that I’d be stared at for dressing oddly and so I gained the courage to wear what I wanted. I also remember rummaging though bags of clothes that my aunt no longer wanted, taking a particular liking to a blue and white vertical striped ankle-length mutton-sleeved dress from Laura Ashley. I’m pretty sure it was a maternity dress, but I just nipped it in at the waist with a wide elastic belt and it quickly became my favourite outfit. Needless to say, this was not the sort of thing my friends were wearing in the early 1990s so I’m sure they found my dress sense rather odd.
Three years at university studying textiles while keeping my eye on trends and new designers did nothing to sway my faith in the fashion industry and, up until the summer of my graduation, I was convinced I wanted to work as a buyer for a large retailer. A great many knock backs from potential employers’ graduate training schemes then led me to realise that was not the path for me and I lost interest in fashion for a while. It wasn’t until the opening of a beautiful vintage boutique called Rags to Bitches in Manchester’s Northern Quarter several years later that my passion for clothing returned. I still remember my excitement on first visiting that shop, with its beautiful dresses and fairy cakes baked by the owner’s mum, but it took me a few more years of the vintage revival to really find my own style. I now realise that being interested in fashion doesn’t mean having to wear the latest trends yourself, so my 17-year-old self wasn’t quite as peculiar as I thought she was. I’ve always dressed to suit my figure and my mood, rather than getting swept up in what’s current with little or no thought to how it’ll make me look, and it seems like I was right all along.
Moving to London helped me to realise that a true sense of personal style is a wonderful thing to have. In a lot of towns and cities you will see people on the street wearing lovely clothes, but they will mostly follow what is fashionable at the time. In London, however, absolutely anything is possible. I was apprehensive before the move as I didn’t think I’d fit in here, but no one really does which is precisely why London is so exciting. It’s filled with interesting people from all over the world who have brought their own individual sense of style with them, but when you factor in the abundance of quirky clothing stores you realise it’s no wonder that there are so many London folk who have chosen to wear whatever the hell they like. Whether you want to make people stare, or whether you go out confident in your favourite slightly quirky outfit because you realise that no one will give you a second glance, London really is a great place if you want to experiment and find your style. I may be back where I was as a teenager, wearing garments without a thought on what others will think of me for it, but I am happy to have finally found my way. Style for me is about trusting your instincts to put together a collection of outfits you love, and then wearing them with confidence. Perhaps London taught me that, or maybe deep down I knew it all along.
In sixth-form we could wear our own clothes although, being an all-girls school, the rules stated that we were not allowed to wear trousers. This was a rather arcane dress code that we all assumed was kept in place to help us appear more ladylike to the outside world but, instead of simply stopping us looking scruffy in jeans, it meant that we had to be a bit more creative with the way we dressed. Whilst expanding my wardrobe to include more garments that would be acceptable to wear to school, I chose items not because they went with something I already owned, but because I loved them. This, inevitably, lead to some rather peculiar outfit combinations but, as it was ‘only’ school, I didn’t feel that I’d be stared at for dressing oddly and so I gained the courage to wear what I wanted. I also remember rummaging though bags of clothes that my aunt no longer wanted, taking a particular liking to a blue and white vertical striped ankle-length mutton-sleeved dress from Laura Ashley. I’m pretty sure it was a maternity dress, but I just nipped it in at the waist with a wide elastic belt and it quickly became my favourite outfit. Needless to say, this was not the sort of thing my friends were wearing in the early 1990s so I’m sure they found my dress sense rather odd.
Three years at university studying textiles while keeping my eye on trends and new designers did nothing to sway my faith in the fashion industry and, up until the summer of my graduation, I was convinced I wanted to work as a buyer for a large retailer. A great many knock backs from potential employers’ graduate training schemes then led me to realise that was not the path for me and I lost interest in fashion for a while. It wasn’t until the opening of a beautiful vintage boutique called Rags to Bitches in Manchester’s Northern Quarter several years later that my passion for clothing returned. I still remember my excitement on first visiting that shop, with its beautiful dresses and fairy cakes baked by the owner’s mum, but it took me a few more years of the vintage revival to really find my own style. I now realise that being interested in fashion doesn’t mean having to wear the latest trends yourself, so my 17-year-old self wasn’t quite as peculiar as I thought she was. I’ve always dressed to suit my figure and my mood, rather than getting swept up in what’s current with little or no thought to how it’ll make me look, and it seems like I was right all along.
Moving to London helped me to realise that a true sense of personal style is a wonderful thing to have. In a lot of towns and cities you will see people on the street wearing lovely clothes, but they will mostly follow what is fashionable at the time. In London, however, absolutely anything is possible. I was apprehensive before the move as I didn’t think I’d fit in here, but no one really does which is precisely why London is so exciting. It’s filled with interesting people from all over the world who have brought their own individual sense of style with them, but when you factor in the abundance of quirky clothing stores you realise it’s no wonder that there are so many London folk who have chosen to wear whatever the hell they like. Whether you want to make people stare, or whether you go out confident in your favourite slightly quirky outfit because you realise that no one will give you a second glance, London really is a great place if you want to experiment and find your style. I may be back where I was as a teenager, wearing garments without a thought on what others will think of me for it, but I am happy to have finally found my way. Style for me is about trusting your instincts to put together a collection of outfits you love, and then wearing them with confidence. Perhaps London taught me that, or maybe deep down I knew it all along.
Daily reads
I follow quite a few blogs and really should make an effort to keep up with them on a daily basis, like I used to. In the days before Twitter and Facebook I would update my blog on an almost daily basis* and would check other people's blogs with the same frequency. These days, it's a struggle to keep my mind on one thing for more than two minutes so I keep forgetting that there's a bunch of interesting, informative and downright funny people out there that I really ought to be keeping up with. Contrary to popular belief, I can actually read.
Today I've had a little flurry of blog action and it made me feel good and also bad, so this post was inspired by the realisation of what I do and don't like in a blog. I tried out a number of new sites that were mentioned by someone I enjoy reading, and are on a similar subject, but they just didn't grab me. If a blog looks and feels messy, clunky or too corporate, I can overlook that if the content grabs me. You know, if the personality of the person posting really comes across. Sadly, in three cases this morning, I wasn't 'grabbed' and so they haven't made the list. However, some people go a little too far for my tastes and get rather too personal. I love anonymous sex bloggers and enjoy the way they feel free to post about relationships, feelings and encounters without fear of being judged or found out. I love the discussion of situations I've found myself in and details I perhaps couldn't talk to anyone else about at the time. I love the descriptions of preparing for dates and the (inevitable?) sex, but what I really don't like is the details of the acts themselves. If I want porn I can get that elsewhere, besides, I enjoy it more when someone I know is telling me that sort of thing. Seems odd to complain about the sex in a sex blog, eh? Well, I'm not complaining, just working out what I like and dislike. That one goes on the 'no' list.
I like blog posts that are almost detailed short stories - glimpses into someone's life and head. I like wit and humour. I like friendliness, fun and photos. Basically, I like a lot of things that my own blog doesn't have! I think I need to work harder to find some direction of my own as it seems that's what I'm craving.
* The archives are now deleted so you can't prove me wrong. Hah!
Today I've had a little flurry of blog action and it made me feel good and also bad, so this post was inspired by the realisation of what I do and don't like in a blog. I tried out a number of new sites that were mentioned by someone I enjoy reading, and are on a similar subject, but they just didn't grab me. If a blog looks and feels messy, clunky or too corporate, I can overlook that if the content grabs me. You know, if the personality of the person posting really comes across. Sadly, in three cases this morning, I wasn't 'grabbed' and so they haven't made the list. However, some people go a little too far for my tastes and get rather too personal. I love anonymous sex bloggers and enjoy the way they feel free to post about relationships, feelings and encounters without fear of being judged or found out. I love the discussion of situations I've found myself in and details I perhaps couldn't talk to anyone else about at the time. I love the descriptions of preparing for dates and the (inevitable?) sex, but what I really don't like is the details of the acts themselves. If I want porn I can get that elsewhere, besides, I enjoy it more when someone I know is telling me that sort of thing. Seems odd to complain about the sex in a sex blog, eh? Well, I'm not complaining, just working out what I like and dislike. That one goes on the 'no' list.
I like blog posts that are almost detailed short stories - glimpses into someone's life and head. I like wit and humour. I like friendliness, fun and photos. Basically, I like a lot of things that my own blog doesn't have! I think I need to work harder to find some direction of my own as it seems that's what I'm craving.
* The archives are now deleted so you can't prove me wrong. Hah!
