20 Aug And here’s where I’m glad I’m a girl
This post is an utter failure of feminist sensibility.
Today was a terrible, horrible, no good really bad day. Not for any particular reason- it didn’t help that my youngest woke me before 6, I have a million things to do, and the puppy keeps getting into the tulle and making the house look like a fairy godmother’s wardrobe exploded. Gods, she loves tulle. That didn’t help, but it’s all pretty standard around here. No, I’m just having a Bad Day for no good reason. And so here’s where I utterly fail to be a gender-neutral feminist:
My cute-girl sweater is totally saving the day.
I love being a girl. I love many of the adorable stereotypes and I love that on a grey and miserable day like this I can chalk my mood up to hormones, dig out the weekend’s I-shouldn’t-have-bought-this purchases and slip into the persona of a cute college girl writing Meaningful Things while sipping mochas in a trendy coffee shop- just by changing my clothes. I’ll take your head off if you talk down to me or imply women are less capable or independent beings than men, but I love getting flowers from The Boy and having him pay for dinner even though my feminist literature told me those things reinforce gender roles and will lead to my downfall. I have all sorts of strongly held convictions about consumerism and labour standards that mean I don’t shop a ton- and when I do it’s either secondhand, or at boutiques that promise you your cotton was lovingly tended and died a good death and that the people who made the clothes were not just paid well but also treated with respect. Gosh, I’m a yuppie. But sometimes, like last weekend, I cave and go to the mall with a girlfriend and try on nearly everything and buy something unnecessary and absolutely revel in a totally un-PC kind of Being A Girl and come home with a day-saving purple sweater.
Screw my feminist literature. I’ll be deep tomorrow.