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Tag "body image"

Katy Jones dabbles in a bit of 90s fashion nostalgia and talks about the cyclical nature of our sartorial choices. (The Blind Hem)

Laci, Ward’s Island, Toronto, 1997. © Leeta Harding.

I, for one, am OBSESSED with the Hunger Games. I’m still reading the first book, and I don’t want to spoil it by seeing the movie. But I’m really, really looking forward to seeing how Jennifer Lawrence portrays Katniss. (Ms. Magazine)

Katniss succeeds with audiences where other women heroes have failed because she isn’t an FFT. Fighting fuck toys are hyper-sexualized women protagonists who are able to “kick ass” (and kill) with the best of them–and look good doing it. The FFT appears empowered, but her very existence serves the pleasure of the heterosexual male viewer. In short, the FFT takes female agency and appropriates it for the male gaze.

British journalist Samantha Brick is receiving a lot of flack for her original article on the woes of being too beautiful. Mama Mia did an open post about it here, and  Tim Dowling wrote a very hilarious satirical piece in response. (The Guardian)

This is what being single looks like. (XOJane)

The writer of The Vibrator Play talks about unexpected success, and did you know that vibrators were initially used as medical treatment? True story. (The Guardian)

So, like, isn’t feminism a bit sexist, you know? Actually, no. Check out this post for a bit Feminism 101. (Lipstick Feminists)

At last, someone else who LOATHES happy snaps. (Eat the Damn Cake)

In defense of not being a sour puss. (XOJane)

Just by being happy, something obvious and wonderful happened. Everyone I met was equally kind in return. People consistently went out of their way to help me, to have lunch, to offer me tips about my new city. The more I actively tried to focus on the good things happening to me and the good people I met, the better I felt and the more awesome stuff fell in my lap. It wasn’t like I was walking around scowling and cursing before, but rather suddenly, everyone was a carefree and chipper as I was.

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I don’t think I ever really felt ugly until 6th grade. I was raised by a mother and father who always praised my intelligence and creativity; they really did not have an eye for nor an interest in aesthetics. I didn’t really notice my appearance – my wild, sea-weed like curls, the explosion of freckles on my face, my alabaster glow which later earnt me the nickname ‘ghost’ – until the very end of my primary school education. I wasn’t really made aware of it, as I never felt inclined to compare myself to my peers. Until I met Dolly, and her chief competition, Girlfriend. Two girls of the same elite, media environment, they competed for my attention, usually resulting in an eventual tie as I gave them both my unwavering affection.

In my pre-teen years, magazines for young girls were in scant supply, and the dotcom boom was well and truly yet to take off. When I was a tween, you had a handful of options: Smash Hits for TV/Movie/Music news, Dolly Magazine, or Girlfriend Magazine.  I was 10, and after my favourite arts and crafts magazine folded, I landed my hands on a copy of Dolly Magazine, Australia’s favourite tween-age glossy for the discerning pop tartlet. According to its publisher it is “the single most trusted source of information for teenager girls”.

Dolly Magazine 1998 with Claire Danes on the cover

Maybe it had Dawson’s Creek on the cover. Or a Zach Hanson centre fold to add to my every growing shrine of boy band paraphernalia. Dolly Magazine, as you can probably guess from the featured celebrities splashed across the cover that caught my pre-pubescent eye, is the Australian equivalent of America’s beloved Seventeen or Teen Vogue. They were a girl’s pop-culture bible, and the ultimate go-to for any young fangirl wanting to read about boys, fashion, health, tv, movies, music, not to mention the ever popular sealed-section. I wasn’t even a teenager yet, but boy did I want to be one. Whilst I couldn’t speed up my body clock, I could enter girl world through these portals of pop culture.

Every month when the new issue of these magazine would come out I would treat them as gospel, seemingly preached from a heavenly host of older, stylish, smarter, popular ethereal beings who sat somewhere within their glamourous inner Sydney city offices. I learnt much, and I learnt fast, unconsciously programming myself to fit within  the quintessential target demographic of 12-18. Obviously, age is a large part of this requirement, but a keen interest in boys, fashion, makeup and celebrity culture counts for a lot too. I’d always been friends with boys, and having an older brother meant I was often in the company of the opposite sex. Magazines taught me that not only should I care about the opposite sex, I should also care about what they thought about me. I should care right down to the hair on my head, the clothes on my body, the makeup on my face and the fat beneath my flesh. Was I charismatic? Was I pretty enough? Did I have an adequate gaggle of girly friends that would, by extension, render me part of the “in crowd”? I found myself pushing and pulling, stretching and altering my appearance and attitude. Young Camilla felt desperately inadequate, attempting to remedy any personality flaws with the help of these magazines like they were commandments written in stone.

Was I happy before hand? Quite possibly. What child from your generic middle-class family home isn’t? But suddenly happiness became unattainable. The most important thing I learnt from these glossy periodicals is that not only should I care about fashion, about boys, about the zits on my chin and the amount of boobage in my bra, but that because I was a girl I should care. My vagina was my downfall, a physiological trait that rendered me a consumer of the highest order. I couldn’t help it. I was a girl. I was made this way. I would always want, want, want, because there was a never ending list of things out of my reach. What was fashionable was always changing, leading young girls everywhere round and round like a dog chasing its tail (except dogs have more luck in this venture).

It wasn’t until probably two years ago when I started studying journalism that I learnt of the media’s power and the manufacturing of desire. I learnt that I’d been duped. I was but a mere pawn in a system that is designed to make money from making girls feel bad about themselves. I’m proud of the fact that I don’t feel that a bottle of perfume will enhance my quality of life, or that the key to success lies in a pair of shoes, a dress, or an expensive hair cut. I trip up from time to time, as my credit card debt will testify. My media consumption’s changed not just with age (and a brief graduation from Dolly and Girlfriend to Cosmopolitan and Cleo), but also with the times. Tumblr and fashion blogs over costly magazines is now the riguer du jour for the conscientious female. Of course, these can also be harmful too, as I’ve written about previously.

I think these magazines still enjoy a good sized readership. Thankfully, some of them have jumped on board the positive body image brigade, with Australian journalists like Mia Freedman leading the pack with the National Body Advisory Group. Their most notable achievement is the Industry Code of Conduct on Body Image. It’s non-compulsory set of guidelines for media outlets, which lists things such as the need to portray a healthier weight, a diverse range of girls, fair placement of advertising material, etc. You can check it out here if you’re interested.

This year I made a pledge to only consume media that will enrich my intellect and give me a positive outlook on life. I adore Gala Darling, Wellness WA (whom I occasionally blog for), Charade Style, Jetta Vegas, and loads more which you can find in the links tab to your right. What I want to know is, what magazines/blogs do you read? I’m always interested in finding new blogs and for overloading my feed.

 

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I first came across Jetta Vegas’ work around the time I moved to Perth. I was in a shit-hole of self-indulgent woefulness and was fairly fed up with an angry princess bitch face 24/7.. This might sound a bit hippy-dippy (hey, I do live in Fremantle), but I think I was supposed to stumble across her blog The Radical Uprise. Somewhere in the higgilty-piggilty of my own despondence, I sat up and heard what she had to say. And it was awesome. Whether it’s all down to hand of fate or a the manifestation of the semantic web isn’t paramount. What is is that Jetta Vegas is spreading her own version of a feel-good phenomenon, and it’s not all coated with saccharine sweetness and light. Although in a similar vein to Gala Darling and Charade Style, The Radical Uprise is entirely gender-neutral, and focuses on helping readers develop a Positive Mental Attitude. It’s fairly bad-ass, and so is this interview I had with her.

Bonjeezy girl! Firstly, I just want to say how much I dig your blog, The Radical Uprise. It’s seriously inspirational stuff. When and why did you start it?
First of all, thank you! That’s what it’s here for, I suppose. (; The Radical Uprise was born out of an epiphany I had a couple of years ago, really. I was at a low point in my life, feeling sorry for myself, letting my emotions get the best of me, and I dumped a bunch of verbal garbage onto the Internet. Big mistake. I woke up with regret and embarrassment, deleted all of my “Woe is me” posts and decided to make a change. I didn’t want to feel bad. I wanted to feel good. I realized that no one else could help me accomplish this because happiness stems from within. However, words are incredibly powerful and I wanted to use my own to help inspire and motivate others. The Radical Uprise exists in hopes to influence people to live a positive and fulfilling life and break free from conventional chains. Oh, and kick ass at life.

What do you do when you’re not writing for your blog, or making kick-ass zines?
I’m a bachelor. You know that bachelor frog meme? That epitomizes my life. But really, I enjoy reading, watching Adventure Time and exploring new places. And eating a lot of cupcakes. Simple things. However, my work absorbs me, permeates through my entire being, so even when I’m not working, I’m still constantly brainstorming. I keep a notebook with me at all times, filled with sloppy pen dribble. Most things inspire me and I never want to miss an opportunity to share things with my readers. Quite honestly, it’s extremely hard for me to separate myself from work. I suppose it’s just because I enjoy it so much. Or perhaps I’m just a work-a-holic. Who knows. Oh, I also really dig pizza.

Is Vegas really your last name? Sorry! I had to ask!
I get that a lot. It is! A reader actually commented on a recent post of mine and said, “I live in Vegas and drive a Jetta,” to which I responded, “I live in Seattle and ride the bus.” Oh, jokes.

 

You seem super chill in your own skin. Was there ever a time where you didn’t feel so proud of yourself?
Oh, certainly! I believe we’ve all been there at some point of time. Some of us are still there. It’s such a cliche, but it’s all about being true to yourself. I mean, humans are very impressionable creatures. We are influenced by society, magazines, TV shows and hundreds of thousands of opinions of how one “should” be. We doubt ourselves, wear a mask. We hold back from doing so many things because of the fear of looking stupid. We don’t want to be judged or ridiculed. Oh, I feel some rambling coming. Brace yourself.

 

I know everyone says it, but I just used to be so…awkward. Insecure. Lost. I even used to lie about my shoe size because I was self conscious about how big my feet were compared to my peers. Hilarious, right? Petty things. It’s all about embracing everything that makes you who you are. We’re always concerned with how other people perceive us. Why? When we overcome those barriers, life becomes a lot more enjoyable. Not everyone is going to like you. That’s okay! What matters is that YOU like you. You weren’t put on this earth to impress those around you. Life is supposed to be fun. If you’re not having fun, you’re not doing something right. If my big feet bother you, don’t look at them (they’re really not that big – I wear a 9 1/2).

 

What advice would you have for anyone who feels pretty low in the self-esteem department?
Stop it. Be nice to yourself. Easier said than done sometimes, but it’s true. If you don’t like something, make a change. If you can’t change something, change the way you think about it. It’s really as simple as that. That advice has helped me overcome a lot the past few years. It’s really all about your mentality. Go into the bathroom, stare at the reflection in the mirror, say “Hey, you kick ass.” Give yourself a fist bump and choose to be awesome. Really.

 

What can we expect from Jetta Vegas for 2012?
Hopefully lots of new things! The Radical Uprise will continue to grow and flourish. I’m hoping to come out with lots of fun, interactive products, more blogging, zine goodness and hopefully you’ll see me getting my grove on with Ellen Degeneres on her show. That’s kind of a high goal to shoot for but hey, it could happen.

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Sunday Hustle is back for 2012! Here’s what went down on the rest of the web this week.

How to grow some serious backbonage and not give a fuck about what other people think of you. I really wish someone had told me this when I was in high school. (In Over Your Head)

Everyone has an internetal eye. It always watching. It has been slowly constructed by society at large and by your friends and family, and it checks you for unacceptable behaviour. If you have had it around for long enough, you actually start to believe that the eye is you, and that you’re “being reasonable” or some other rationalization.

But the eye isn’t you at all. It is a prison, and you have justified its existence by obeying it. It’s strong because you let it be strong.

But the secret, the part that’s amazing, is that it can’t do anything to stop you, even if it wanted to. It’s an eye. It can only watch. The rest of you is free to act as you wish.

What a real size 12 looks like. Does anyone hate it when they go shopping and have to try on at least a few sizes? I fluctuate between an Australian 6, 8, and 10. Needless to say, there’s a huge difference between a size 6 and a 10. It’s really hard to implement a one size 6 fits all measuring system! Everyone’s body’s are so, so very different. Check out this website that Zara talks about if you’re feeling a little uncomfortable in your skin. (Zara Rabinowicz)

Fuck yes Alannis Morissette! I remember when I was little and my father wouldn’t let me listen to such spiteful inanities from a very, very angry woman (I believe he called her a bitch). Thus, she was like an angel of angsty chick awesomeness. I think I need to write my own post about this! (XO Jane)

Another post about ‘that scene’ in Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Personally, I thought it was unnecessary and I definitely needed a cup of tea afterwards. And a hug. Lots and lots of hugs. (XO Jane)

To the best of my knowledge, I was the only person who violently thrashed out of the theater during what can only be described as torture porn. When a crowded room of seemingly normal people watched a young girl chained across a four-posted bed against her will, screaming so loudly I could do nothing to block out of the sound except leave, they all sat there. I imagine most of them watched every gory detail play out larger than life.

Sometimes it’s hard to practice what you preach. I, like Becky Sharper who authored that post, live within a set of rules which I think are utter fuckery, yet I don’t plan on changing my ways anytime soon. I wear makeup. I wear high heels. I like showing off my legs. Is this wrong? (Pursuit of Harpyness)

This is Marie Calloway. She slept with a famous author, than wrote a 15,000 word essay about the experience. Fame-whore, new guard of feminism or just plain self-indulgent? (The Observer)

IDGAF, I love these videos of Shit Stereotypical Members of X Subculture Say. Someone needs to make a Shit Aussie Girls Say video, and it should be full of tripe about lying on the beach with cider, passive aggressive racism, and panic attacks over GHD’s. All of which I have been guilty of, and judge other people for.

If you haven’t seen this Czech surrealist film Daises by director Vera Chytilová, go find a copy now. I am not above suggesting Bit Torrent. It is all sorts of crazy and doesn’t make sense, except for the part where it’s about girls not giving a fuck and doing as they please, which I would really love to be my template for life. Read about the director here. (The F Bomb)

Clementine Ford shares her life-long battle with her body image. (Mama Mia)

My body has endured 18 years of punishing self hatred. I have been imbued with such an abhorrent self obsession that, at my lowest points, I assume everyone is staring at me when I walk down the street, whispering to each other, laughing. Ooh! they must be thinking. I wouldn’t wear those shorts if I were her. I assume quite willingly that I must be offensive to people; that every failed relationship is intrinsically linked to my looming, garish size and the sheer embarrassment of people being seen by the world to love something so hideous. Society drowns women in an ocean of narcissistic self-loathing, until eventually the only thing they can see is themselves and how incomplete they are, and they’re oblivious to the thousands of other bodies being sucked under the waves around them.

There is nothing wrong with solitude. I just recently booked a trip to Bali. I thankfully haven’t been met with any cocked eyebrows and people seem to be understanding of the fact that I’m comfortable in my own skin. I have, however, been confronted with bewildered looks in regards to my single life, so I adore this post. (Persephone)

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This week has been off the heezy with breezy sunny days, rainy days, drinks with friends, movies with friends, coffee with friends, hommus with friends, new friends, old friends (who are actually family – auto win!), a new house, new postcode, new blogging opportunity and new haunts. I’ve moved for the fourth (!!!) time this year, and finally found myself in a place I’m willing to call home. Unless of course I get a bed bug infestation/have a nervous break down/accidentally end up living with vampires again. My new flat mate appears as normal as anyone could possibly be, and is actually a pretty rad chick too with a similar bout of nostalgic francophilia.

Seeing as uni is now over and I have so much free time lying about the house nursing a broken foot, I’m hoping to put some more juice into GAMFP. Stay tuned for improvements!

Here’s this week’s best reading. Enjoy!

What’s in a name? A lot, if you’re an unwanted daughter. Girls in Indian culture are still less favoured (to put it mildly) than boys, and are thus bestowed with names that stigmatise their unwanted births. These young Indian girls have been given the legal rights to change their names. (Jezebel)

Aphra Behn (no, not that one thinks Doctor Pepper’s marketing team needs to stop watching Mad Men. (Shakesville)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBtp4NWg_ks]

Sarah thinks politeness and power should go hand in hand, especially when it comes to climbing the corporate ladder. (XOJane)

We need to question the maxim that women are naturally nicer and more nurturing, but also that people respond positively to aggression and indifference. As many an assassinated dictator will tell you, respect earned through fear is not genuine, nor is it a productive long-term strategy. There’s no recipe for success, but perpetuating a cycle where someone’s always on the receiving end of the office equivalent of a good, old-fashioned paddling is going to get you little more than a sore ass at the end of the day.

Learning to stand up for yourself at work while treating other people like human beings is possible without the world as we know it going to shit. As I just heard someone say on the episode of “Law and Order: UK” I’m watching, “Treat people fairly and you’ll get the best of them.

The YWCA Victoria has launched a new campaign against violence against women, a speed dating campaign aptly called Feminists Are Better In Bed. Described as an event that approaches feminism with humour, the event aims to create awareness about sexual equality, violence within non-hetero relationships, and the 15-25 age group. (Feminaust)

Cheerleading IS a sport! As an Australian accustomed to the cheerleaders-as-bimbos stereotype, this post was an eye opener. Who knew cheerleading consisted of more than pom poms and peroxide? (Fit and Feminist)

Their athleticism stunned me – the strength of the girls who served as bases, the fearlessness of the girls who were thrown into the air.  They could jump so high, like they had springs in their legs, and they tossed off standing back tucks with about as much thought as most of us give to getting out of bed in the morning.  When the football team scored, the squad ran to the end zone and did as many push-ups as the team had points.  I couldn’t even do one push-up, yet there they were, doing twenty or thirty of them.

Think sommersaults are for sissies? Think again...

Do we need words like straight, bisexual or homosexual? Hell to the no, says Lisa Wade. Features pie charts! (The Society Pages)

On the sweetness of solitude and learning to get by on your own. Personally, I love being by myself. How can you really learn who you are if you’re constantly surrounded by other people’s thoughts? Ya dig? (AutoStraddle)

The US National Organisation for Women is running a blog carnival for positive body image. Go get some good vibes into ya! (NOW)

If you were meant to resemble a praying mantis, you would have been born as an insect. Women have curves for a reason! (Poppies and Ice Cream)

Who’s to thank for women’s rights within the British monarchy? British PM David Cameron? Democrat Nick Clegg? The creator of Downton Abbey? Kate Middleton’s ticking biological clock? (The Guardian)

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Style b­logging is a beautiful if somewhat chaotic medley of fashion, design, and the every-day-girl. As with a lot social media tools like Facebook and Twitter, anything and everything goes. It’s a candid mish-mash of individual perspectives, formed to create a sort of digital look book of all things stylish. Like moths fluttering towards bright lights bulbs, so too are the fashion-savvy towards the blogosphere. Blogs show case the lives and loves of normal girls, and if the success of tabloids and reality TV is anything to go by, we can’t get enough of the everyday Jane.

But therein lies the rub. What happens when the everyday girl is just as beautiful, just as thin, just as well dressed as the fashion models we see in magazines? Has the every-day become the glossy world of picture perfectionism? We crave diversity, but are we really rising to the challenge with the tools that let us do so?

Source: Tumblr

Let me illustrate. There is a girl I follow on Tumblr with thousands of fans. At just a mere 17-years of age, she has reached what is known as internet fame. Everyday she uploads or reblogs a beautiful mixture of images she finds from all corners of the web, creating a fashion-lover’s archive of inspiration for the self-confessed clothes horse. She is adored not just for her treasure trove of pictures, but also for own personal style. Self-portraits of thin, tanned legs reclining in a computer chair, a messy head of long blonde hair and a perfect pout receive hundreds of notes, likes a reblogs. She’s internet famous, and all she has to do is click her mouse.

“How did u get soooo skinny?!” One follower asks.

“can we plz get a rundown of what you eat each day?” Asks another.

The reaction to these images, whether they’re of the bloggers themselves or of catwalk models they admire, is uncannily similar to the way we react to the headlines that blazen the covers of magazines. We want to know what the other person does to look and feel good. What’s their secret? How can I be like them? How do I compare?

The girls of Tumblr are undoubtedly gorgeous, a community of style bloggers, amateur fashion designers and enthusiasts, writers and makeup artists alike. They love what they do, and best of all, they’re just like us. However, just like the perfectly choreographed images they post, web cam shots become DIY fashion shoots with real designer labels and some serious effort involved.

Fashion and beauty have always been about creating magical worlds, with control over these fantasies commanded from the top down. The Internet has given fashion and beauty lovers a place to openly share and create their own worlds, and take a little bit more control over what the media hands to us. The thing is, sometimes the pages of Tumblr aren’t that far away from the sartorial jungles of high-fashion magazines. The everyday fashion blogger and her Tumblr posts start to look more and more like the unattainable world we see inside the glossy covers of our favorite reads. Sometimes, it’s a little hard not to compare ourselves, especially when the girls responsible might even be people we know.

Social media tools like Tumblr are great for getting the creative juices flowing yes, but if something you’re viewing at is making you constantly look at yourself and how you compare, where’s the fun in that? And that’s what blogging should be all about – fun! Creativity! Expressing yourself and sharing your passion. Tumblr is just another form of media, and just as with magazines, television, movies and other images you see, it’s important to think about how blog content is created. Is it opening up your world to a variety of looks, styles and tastes? Or is it just reflecting the same old, same old?

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Is Zooey Deschanel too girly? This article extends upon the New York Magazine’s interview with the indie-darling we all either love or hate. Conventionally beautiful with a penchant for cupcakes and kittens, is Deschanel the paragon of anti-feminism? (Huffpo)

Source: Movies Pad

What I find baffling about the controversy surrounding Deschanel’s trademark adorableness is that she doesn’t fall neatly into a feminine pigeonhole. Yes, she is thin, white, conventionally beautiful, and bubbly, and she has an apparently authentic enthusiasm for cupcakes and baby animals. But she has played characters who curse

indiscriminately (“The Good Girl”), defy their parents (“Almost Famous”), and reject the men who love them (“500 Days of Summer”) — not exactly ladylike behaviors — and her laugh (which Yuan describes rapturously as “as the joyous union of a bray, a bark, and a honk”) is decidedly unfeminine. Deschanel, as far as I can tell from her films and Yuan’s profile is, like all of us, complicated: a mix of soft and hard, girly and nerdy, silly and serious.

Julie Klausner writes about cutesy behaviour in her ode to age-appropriateness. (Julie Klausner)

Working women are selfish and should go back to making babies, according to a doctor in Perth. As a child whose parents were always a great deal older than my friends, I understand to a degree what Doctor Walters is saying. It’s hard when your parents are more conservative, less energetic and on a more superficial level, less up to date with popular culture. However, I’m also really proud of the fact that my parents dedicated their younger lives to being their best selves. Both my parents left home before 21 and travelled the world, seeing and doing amazing things, enriching their lives far more than they could have if they’d decided to shack up as soon as the first marriage proposal rolled in. It wasn’t until their late 30s that they settled down and had children. Sounds pretty sweet to me! (Sydney Morning Herald)

Rachel Hills defends writing for women’s magazines. (Musings of an Inappropriate Woman)

I chose it because I think there is a certain magic to combining political ideas with candy coating. There are a lot of people who know their feminist theory, and there are a lot of people who can adapt their writing voice to sound like a Cosmo article. There aren’t as many, I dare say, who can do both. I chose it because writing for women’s lifestyle magazines means writing articles that are ”for” women rather than just “about” them. As I said at the beginning of this post, I chose it because I wanted to write about women’s social issues, and women’s lifestyle magazines are a logical place to do that.

What Girls REALLY need. This is by far one of the best articles I have actually read all year. Why? Because not only do they mention awesome cool must-haves like a power song to boogy too, it’s also a clarion call for more girl-love! Yeehaw! (Vice)

Australia sets the standard with the Positive Body Image Awards. (About Face)

Why fashun needs a flock of people staring at the pretty. (Final Fashion)

The Talks interviews Mila Kunis, and she has some really poignant things to say on learning from others mistakes, perfectionism

Source: I Know Hair

and losing yourself in Hollywood. (The Talks)

Is that a problem in Hollywood, the pursuit of perfection? So many girls at your age try exactly that: to be and to look perfect.

It is really sad, because it’s true. Everybody is starting to look the same. It is bizarre how everyone has the same facial features now. One person dyes her hair brown, everybody dyes her hair brown. I think people lose all sense of themselves. It’s unfortunate.

Is that something the entertainment and fashion world caused itself?

I don’t know what caused it, I don’t know what came first: the chicken or the egg, but something caused it. I don’t know if it’s the covers of the magazines where you see the most perfect, most beautiful people. The sad thing is that it is all photoshopped. There is no such thing as perfection. What I consider beautiful, most likely you don’t. That doesn’t mean that I am right and you are wrong, it’s just a difference of opinion.

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I was trying to figure out what was wrong with myself this week. Fatigued, beaten to death by academia, and sniffly and snotty like a snivelling toddler, I wasn’t myself at all. Insomnia had crept back into my life like a thief in the night (quite literally) and robbed me of my rest. No amount of meditation podcasts and lavender incense could make the whirring in my brain come to a stop. So on Wednesday I felt pretty drunk – but I’d never made it to the party. I ended up in Fremantle hospital, my mind fairly scattered as nurses asked me if I could remember my birthdate. Did I know why I was here? Was there any chance I was pregnant? Can I get you to pee in this again please?

I’m ok now, and I’m actually feeling just a little bit more tired than is normal for a healthy 23-year-old. Despite my medical episode, I’ve somehow managed to get everything done this week. I’m up to my eyeballs in assignments and design work I’d rather not be doing (who knew I’d make a terrible graphic designer?!). I moved into my new place almost a month ago but have spent the majority of my time here holed up in my room cradling a cup of tea over my laptop, shaking my fists at ye Gods of academia.

Which leads me to unraveling my latest project. I have a new website. I’ve officially registered an Australian Business Number for myself, bought www.camillapeffer.com.au, gone head to head with CSS, lost a battle with Posterous, and ended up back at WordPress (I LUFF YOU!). The reason I started it up was to showcase a bit more of my professional work and position myself as a freelance copywriter for small businesses, entrepreneurs and individuals. Check it out, and if you know of anyone who might like some help whipping up some kick-ass copy, send them my way! Be sure to also like me on Facebook. Nobody likes me yet! I want people to like me!

And here’s the usual Sunday Hustle. I must have superpowers or something.

One Female Lead Does Not A Zeitgeist Make – I am SO EXCITED about this new Disney/Pixar film! Brave is set to hit cinemas in June 2012, and tells the story of a fierce archer with flaming red ringlets and strong willed sass. SMH gives props to Pixar for FINALLY having a female lead, and mentioned the Gina Davis Institute too. Does this mark a change in Pixar’s gender bias? Should we even care about the politics of animated films? (Sydney Morning Herald)

Source: Pixar

Actor and filmmaker Jennifer Siebel-Newsom has made a new documentary about the media’s warped beauty standards.  Upon viewing this trailer, I really wanted to walk out onto my porch and yell to the Canning Highway “YES! THIS WOMAN HAS NAILED IT!” Because she really has. Like the majority of anyone with a vagina, growing up I was incredibly insecure. I still am. But I’m getting better. It wasn’t until last year that I felt comfortable, nay safe, in leaving the house without makeup. And it’s empowering knowing that no, you are not just your looks. You are not your tangled hair, your blemished chin, nor your made-up lips or high heels. And thank god.

As a woman who works both in front of and behind the camera, Siebel-Newsom’s documentary examines the media with the critical eye of a woman who’s lived and worked the battle field. She’s interviewed high school girls, media representatives, media workers, media survivors. There aren’t any planned screening for Australia as of yet, but the film’s website offers individuals a chance to organise screenings.

Did anything surprise you during the making of the film, either in the information you were taking in, or in the process?

I did have a sexist experience working with someone, who I ultimately let go, but who came on and wanted to take over and direct the film and was very objectifying of me and condescending. This was a young male. That was a very challenging experience for me, given the theme of the film. I couldn’t believe that he was actually doing what our film was talking about as [being] a bad thing to be doing. In terms of the information, I was shocked by a lot of the statistics. I just couldn’t believe some of the statistics myself, and [in the research] I also started to pay more attention, and I think once you actually start to pay more attention, you see it everywhere, in very subtle ways. What really surprised me is how we just accepted the status quo.

[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/18985647 w=400&h=225]

Newest Miss Representation Trailer (2011 Sundance Film Festival Official Selection) from Miss Representation on Vimeo.

Sweety Darling! Ab Fab is coming back darling! Grab Mummy’s snuggie and a glass of cider! (Jezebel)

Source: Fanpop.com

Beauty and the western woman myth. When reading this post, my mind went back to that scene in Mean Girls where Regina and co are all bemoaning their over sized pores and bad breath and MAN SHOULDERS, etc. Chelsea Bruck over at Gender Across Borders writes about her experiences as a Westerner in Korea and cultural perceptions of beauty. (Gender Across Borders)

Korean girls are generally known for being shy, but put this typically taboo topic on the table and they are anything but! For the past month I have been coaxing English sentences out of these girls as if they were cavities, but now they were fervently typing away on their dictionaries, eager to express themselves.

The desire for double eyelid surgery was unanimous. One girl wanted her forehead pushed out (never heard of that one before). They all wanted smaller noses, a bridge between their eyes, thinner faces, bigger boobs.

I did my best to explain the phrase ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ I even brought up the term ‘Asian fetish’ to try and get my point across, but it fell flat.

One looked me in the eyes and stated earnestly, “Koreans are ugly. We want Chelsea teacher face.”

Amber Heard refuses to put a label on her sexuality. I, on the other hand, am always confused as to whether labels are necessary. I suppose that labels help people to understand what the hell is going on, but do they segregate and divide? Or are they a symbol of pride? Does not labeling yourself gay/feminist/bi/whatever shame those who do? As if to say “Yes, I like girls/boy, but I’m not like them“? What do you think? (Lesbilicious)

The Pursuit of Harpyness echoes the same sentiments in this post. (The Pursuit of Harpyness)

Here’s a sweet infographic for the nerds! A visualisation on the hierarchy of internet distractions. (MoMA)

Gala Darling might have just gotten married, but she still has the time to deliver the material we all know and love. This latest post is about frenemies, and when to kick fun sponges to the curb. Because nobody should feel guilty about feeling good, right? (Gala Darling)

This chick was hot, and then they mentioned her Bieber similarities. (Glamour)

Lipstick Feminists has a firm word with Tumblr over their use of the word rape. You don’t need to be an English student to recognise a trope in a poor taste. (Lipstick Feminists)

And because this image sums up my life:

Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Peace x

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This week has been so majorly overwhelming. What is the weekend anyway? The weekend is a myth, existing in a realm of 9-5 employment in a universe far, far away from this one.

This week I moved from Perth’s version of Mordor to Salter Point, which is right by the Canning River. The location is beautiful, and I have a room big enough to do cartwheels in. I’ve also started up a HUGE life changing project, the details of which I can’t reveal right now but you’ll find out soon enough. Needless to say, I am a walking zombie and Angry Princess Bitchface has been making quite a few appearances. I somehow managed to rustle up a Sunday Hustle for this week, and Lady of the Week shall be returning as per usual as of Monday.

Zoe Saldana (that blue woman in Avatar) speaks up about fame and mental illness. (Jezebel)

Scarlet over at Early Bird Gets the Worm says nay to girl-hate! WORD. (Early Bird Gets the Worm)

Speaking of girl hate- Mean Girls Memes! Nyak, nyak, nyak.

Source: Mean Girls Memes

Have you tried online dating before? Venturing into the cyber-world of courtship is one of the most frustrating, hilarious and uncomfortable aspects of the world-wide-web. I wonder if Tim Berners-Lee (that’s the Grand Poombah of the Web, FYI) envisioned that his baby would be connecting would-be casanovas with unsuspecting young ladies? I feel as though online dating is only socially acceptable (and only just!) within the 25+ crowd and the gay scene. But what’s it really like? Tyla from Feministe dishes the dirt. (Feministe)

…online dating has also given me the chance to date outside my comfort zone. Okay, to be fair, getting approached by a man in real life almost always puts me outside my comfort zone, and I very rarely give out my number. But anyway, online dating has allowed me to look at a man I might not be interested in based on a short meeting in real life, notice all the awesome things we have in common, and eventually, give out my number. He likes Scrabble? One point. He likes this random, obscure book that I’m obsessed with? Two points. He likes cheese? Five points. Oh my god, he works for NPR?! That’s like a million points. Yes, a million. Come on! He could be the next Ira Glass! No? A girl can dream.

Confessions of a real life shopahollic. I think it’s fairly safe to say that no one believes they earn enough. “I have SO MUCH money!” says absolutely no one! Thank you GFC! But if there’s one thing I can say I learned from the GFC, it’s that plastic cards are not toys. Interest rates are a bitch. And absolutely nothing is so delightful that it’s worth paying off interest. Not convinved? Read Rachel’s post over at XOJane.com my new favourite web-haven! (XoJane)

Source: Breafast at Shabby Chick Diva's

Rick over at Mamma Mia interviews a real-life escort. Intrigued? You should be. Delicious Dalliances is an escort service run by women, for women. Yes, that’s right. A lesbian and bisexual escort service.

Having taken its 100th reservation, Delicious Dalliances is amassing a profile of how clients use the service. Some just once, never to return. They try it out and retreat back to the ‘normalcy’ of their families. Other might come back twice. Or three times. Others have become regulars.

They’re driven to exploration, not necessarily because they are lesbians, but because they have had urges they could not explain. A spark. A thrill at the thought of a same-sex experience. Questions. Fantasies. Some strong, some dull. But still there.

The ongoing IRL battle for girl-gamers. (Gender Across Boarders)

Source: Xbox Extreme

Women! Wikipedia needs you to edit more

pages, promises Wikilove in return. (The Guardian)

Scarlett talks about why she prefers older men, and the effect the media is having on body objectification. The majority of females will raise their hand when asked if they love feeling bootylicious. Who doesn’t love waking up with their hair GHD perfect and skin a glowing canvas of baby-flesh as you gaily trill to the tune of ‘I feel pretty, oh so pretty’? But what exactly does being ‘hot’ even mean? I know good looks are a form of social capital and blah blah blah, but I feel a pretty face will only get you so far. (Early Bird Catches the Worm)

I was taken aback recently when a coworker praised me for being close friends with a man who’s not super attractive. Unlike the two who ranked me, I don’t make friends in terms of looks. If anything, I find it easier to be myself around and make friends with men I don’t find attractive.

But my so called “ugly” friend has an awesome personality; anyone would agree. And that makes him attractive. And at the end of the day, it’s what’s on the inside that counts.

Women with fake moustaches. Nyak, nyak, nyak.

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….And thus concludes the end of my second week back at uni. Was I ready for this jelly? No, no I was not. Regardless, you’re more than likely to find me bouncing out of bed ready to LEARN IMPORTANT STUFF rather than clutching at my pillow, praying for JUST 5 MORE MINUTES PLZ. I love learning, and I’m so happy to be back at uni. It’s the ultimate indulgence to feed my mind, to bounce ideas off of other inspiring, positive and creative people.

Things might be a little more quiet now that I’m back at big school and writing essays and trying to remember how to use the APA referencing system (which I totally don’t remember existed, by the way). I wish I had more time to jump up and down on my computer keyboard excitedly and churn out more posts like the eager Gen Y smarty-pants I am, but my course requires a lot of attention and little time for…well, life. Having said that,I’m really determined to make time for the projects that matter to me these days. More writing! More photography! More reading! Like a grocery list chock block of awesome food for the soul! Time is trickier than Where’s Wally. You can’t find it, you have to make it, and you’re never too busy for the things you love. Never.


This week I definitely noticed a trend in articles on self-loathing and self-loving in the physical sense. Because Girls Are Made From Pepsi is all about lady love, coming to terms with and accepting our diverse physicality is a large part of appreciating and celebrating your foxy self. Females of all ages – whether young girls or middle aged women – have all gone through some sort of body image crisis. Some deal with their inner critics more effectively than others, whilst some of still unconsciously grab at imaginary love-handles when trying on new jeans. I personally don’t feel ready to write a body image post of my own, so below are some of the best I’ve read this week (or ever!).

How gay-friendly is Facebook? With the Google+ machine ploughing through the digital stratosphere aiming to catch as many band-wagon enthusiasts as possible (oh yeah, I saw it riding past and climbed on!), Lesbilicious takes a look at how the world’s most popular (and infamous!) social networking site helped (or hindered) queer visability. Can we expect the same from Google+? Do social networks force people out of the closet when they ask you disclose information? Or is it still possible to keep some of our life private? It did not escape me that Google+ does not ask for your sexual orientation…

By the way – it’s awfully lonely on Google+! If anyone wants an invite, holla at me! I’m willing to spread the love around!

Liz at Autostraddle does a fashioncap of the latest Pretty Little Liars, turns the majority of the cast/extras into homos, and consequently makes my week whilst doing so.

THIS IS NEW INFORMATION. Not all women like pink. If you are one of those women, I’m sorry for my blog’s colour scheme and it’s affect on your retinas. Not really, because I love pink! But don’t worry, I still like you. This study, published in the Harvard Business Review (and handily dissected for the sake of my poor attention span by Gawker), suggests that women don’t like pink because it reminds them of other women.

Despite the fact that a full 100% of lesbians are women, it appears that women do not actually love themselves? Because it’s not the color of pink that women hate, according to the study, so much as the fact that pink is “a gender cue” that triggers a “defensive response” among women. This sort of self-loathing behavior is really sad to see among a gender that has produced lots of really quality gymnasts.

The study was conducted in relation to breast cancer donations. Although it seems fairly obvious that sometimes, you know, women prefer blue, some parts of the study actually sounded like they might not be completed baseless.

We put breast cancer banner ads on a website we showed the subjects but never mentioned them. When the site was geared to women [with the colour pink], 33% of women recalled the ads. When it was gender-neutral, 65% remembered. It’s been three years, and we have duplicated the same basic finding 10 times. It keeps happening.

Check out this video for Vanessa Bruno’s SS 12 collection. It features a Lou Doillon and Jessica Joffe as beautifully dressed forest sprites of some sort. (I am still recovering from Stevie Dance’s departure. I feel the need to talk about this. Anyone?)

140 characters can say a lot about your gender. According to a sociolinguistic study, women use a lot more emoticons and exclamation points ( !! =] ). I think I may have been an unwitting subject for this study…

Girl With a Satchel (Erica Bartle, or GWAS as she is known) is talking about body image. It’s a regular topic on GWAS, but I always love her posts on body image because they’re not just empty, superficial rhetoric about how important it is for us to love ourselves. Erica’s past experiences inform her views on body image and the media, so it’s not like she comes across all gung-ho about fighting the evil advertising standards which allow women to look like pore-less faces of sparkling beauty. She just recognises that it really, really sucks to open up a magazine and not feel like you resemble the yummy young things that dominate the pages.

What can be done by publishers in light of the fact that the Voluntary Code of Conduct has not been widely accepted? Go easy on the Photoshop, embrace what’s real, and complement fashion and beauty with a greater proportion of content that gives credit to women and girls’ other attributes. Devote sections to cultivating their minds, creativity, social conscience, resilience and knowledge of the world, as well as playing on their capacity to empathise, laugh, have fun and contribute something positive.

Source: weheartit.com

Rachel Hills shares her personal experience of BDD (body dysmorphic disorder).

When you’re actually living through something, it feels like some dark, impossible shame you could never speak openly to anyone about. Then there’s the stage of recovery where the whole event seems far enough in the past that the stigma begins to evaporate and you can speak about it freely. And eventually, you get to the point where it seems so long ago that it no longer feels relevant, almost as if it happened to another person.

I think I feel a bit like Rachel in a way when she says she finds it hard to open up, and not because she’s ashamed or doesn’t want to relive past events she’d rather keep locked up in her 16-year-old diary, but because it’s had to relate to who we were in the past. How do you speak for someone who exists outside of your here and now? Just as it’s difficult to comprehend and interpret another person’s state of mind, so too is it problematic to try and justify the actions of your former self. I, like many other girls, feel so far removed from who we once were, and that’s why many things are left unsaid.

Conversely, Anna Sussman writes of the eating disorder cliche – ‘Me Too’ Syndrome. I would really love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this one! Do you think there’s an E.D cliche? Or are you more partial to an open book policy? Over sharing? Or over people not caring?

Your vagina is a beautiful flower and anyone who gets your naked as hit the jackpot. Nay to vulva antagonism!

gucci gucci louis louis fendi fendi prada

Look familiar?

Apple, Pear, or Eggplant? I never understood why people compare their bodies with the shapes of fruit. I get the need to associate the female form with a deliciously sweet snack, but I’ve never felt these so called guides to female body shapes ever achieve anything.

Not satisfied? You might have more luck with something like Trinny & Susannah’s body shape guide, which has 12 possible forms—but, if you’re like me, you’ll still be left untyped. This isn’t because of your crazy, freakish body type that is unfit to be clothed. It’s because your body is probably a combination of run-of-the-mill (I mean that with love!) without a particular feature that calls for attention, and certain features that you may want to highlight or conceal but that don’t land you in one of the classic types.

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Before I dish out a week’s worth of webby goodness, I would like everyone to have a moment’s silence for mother. I was one of those difficult babies who decides to show up early, and at 3 in the morning 23-years-ago, I was born butt first. Ouch. I have been inflicting a similar style of inconvenience on my mother ever since, mainly in the form of stealing her jewellery, drinking all of her coffee, and only calling whenever I need money. And when she refuses my demands? “You were born butt first, Camilla.” Touche, mother, touche. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Returning to Slut Walks Roots – Rachel Rabbit White writes about losing the message amongst feminist politics. What exactly is a Slut Walk? We understand that it’s a global demonstration where girls are taking to the streets to protest against sexual violence. The marches started when a Toronto police officer remarked that it was the ‘slut’ clothes of rape victims that were to blame, and not the perpetrators themselves. So whilst harassment is never ok, and no means no and yes means yes, what is allowed, and what isn’t?

I’m not sure these guys are hearing SlutWalk means clothing choice does not = rape, but even that original message seems to have gotten murky. Some Slutwalkers have been quoted as saying “our outfit choices are not an invitation to come on to us” Quiet Riot Girl (last week’s metro-sexy guest poster) challenged this. On her twitter stream, she says “So some feminists believe all and any unsolicited /unwanted attention of women by men is ‘harassment’. Men have to wait to be asked/told to pay a woman any attention at all? Basically the Slutwalks are slutshaming hetero men.

How are men supposed to hit on women in public, talk to them or even ogle them? Because surely, ladies, we aren’t saying when we go out in a hot outfit we don’t want to be seen, or talked to by anyone. I think talking with men about what’s okay and what’s not–as well as talking with each other about what harassment is and isn’t– is necessary for this conversation. I’m honestly surprised it’s been left out of SlutWalk.

Photo: AP

Reclaiming slut and faggot – Mia Freeman is certainly wrangling shit storm over at Mama Mia! This post talks about the trend in reclaiming insults and using them as a battle cry, most recently seen with the famous international Slut Walks. My favourite word is cunt, and I detest its negative connotations. Cunt just means, vagina. Why is this an insult? Vaginas are awesome – they’re big strong muscles used for pushing out humans. Hooray for female genitalia!

Photo: Amber Forrester. Patch available on Etsy.com

The pros and cons of your natural winter woolies – This post is about pubes and body hair in general. To be fashionable or natural? That is the feminist question. Who are we shaving for? For society? Ourselves? Our boyfriends? I’m going to be frank. I shave to fit in. If I didn’t, I know society would treat me a different way. So while I applaud chicks who ditch the Schick and embrace the pits in all their natural glory, I’ll admit that I’m not that brave.

Blogger Beautiful? Radical self-love guru Gala Darling writers about the hypnotising, extravagant, magical world of fashion blogging, and the damage it may be having on young girls’ self esteem. The great thing about fashion blogging is that it makes the whole fashion world more attainable. You can create your own fashion shoots, and the blog serves a DIY publication. You have access to your readers and you can gauge their needs as consumers of your blog but directly engaging with them through comments. This is what makes fashion blogs a popular choice amongst the clothes horses of today – they’re taking inspiration from blogs rather than glossy magazines. But as advertisers and the fashion industry start wanting to work with fashion bloggers, the whole fashion blogging spectrum changes. In with the skinny models, out with the real girls.

99.9% of us are not models, & that is why so many of us love it! Blogs are where we go to get inspiration from what other girls are really wearing in their daily life. But as daily outfit pictures evolve into photoshoots & production values increase, more actual value — we’re talking $$$ here — is placed upon how we look. After all, for a lot of us, making money from our blog is the ultimate dream. Where does that money come from? Mostly, it comes from big companies with big budgets.

In a conversation with Karen from WhereDidUGetThat last week, I said, “Sometimes I think if I was skinnier I would get more work! & that’s CRAZY! I’m a writer, not a model!” It’s true that some very popular bloggers are much smaller today than when they started. Is it coincidence, or is it a carefully-orchestrated attempt to obtain (or maintain) success in this strange world? At some point, you have to ask yourself whether your health or your career is more important.

Photo: news.com.au

The news story on everybody’s lips this week – the Supre Jeggings campaign. Some are expressing outrage over the fashion crime of leggings cross-breeding with denim, but the main focus is over the fact that this ad, which features a very young girl in a pose more fitting for a soft-porn magazine. Wearing nothing but leggings and a full-mane of softly curled dark hair, she poses seductively with her thumb in her mouth. The model’s come-hither bedroom eyes and bare naked back suggest the ad might be for a more mature product, surely not a clothing line targeted at girls aged 12-18. Unfortunately, this is something Supre has been doing for years. I remember when I was thirteen and Supre was very rigour du jour amongst my peers. One week it was t-shirts with cheeky slogans like SPANK ME and NAUGHTY GIRL, the next it was tank tops with condoms sewn onto the front, with a slogan that read BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY.

Nice girls get the corner office – Corporate coach Lois Frankel tells Aussie ladies to ditch the Pollyanna act and embrace their inner diva. Being nice is a good personality trait: it makes you more approachable and probably gets you more Christmas cards.  And who doesn’t like creating a shrine of joyous yuletide well wishes to the wonderful you? Unfortunately, sweetness needs to coupled with other personality traits.

“Women also often let people cross their boundaries inappropriately,” she said.

“They tolerate inappropriate behaviour and don’t walk away when they should.”

Dr Frankel said Australian culture encouraged “nice girls” rather than women who sought success in their careers and private lives.

“While American women are starting to get the fact they need to take better care of themselves and be more verbal and ask for what they want, Australian women are still hesitant to do that,” she said.
Ditching bitches and why less is more – Do you have a fickle friend? Or are you a fickle friend? Do you have a friend who cancels plans at the last second because they have the sniffles or they forgot their aunty is up from Melbourne or their dog is sick or they’re tired or they have thrush or, my personal favourite excuse, they’re staying in tonight to have monogomous sex in the missionary position have a quiet one with their significant other. In Australia, we have a term for this. It is called ‘dogging it’. Although I’m not sure why – dogs are very loyal, no?
Ambivalent relationships may do more than dishearten. In a study published in 2003 Holt-Lunstad and Uchino asked 102 male and female volunteers to wear blood pressure monitors for three days. Every time a subject had a social interaction lasting more than five minutes, he or she would describe it in a diary and rate the quality of that relationship. Not surprisingly, blood pressure readings were typically higher when individuals encountered ambivalent friends than when they saw supportive friends. But intriguingly, blood pressure was also more elevated in the presence of ambivalent friends than it was with people the subjects disliked but could not avoid (such as classmates or co-workers). You expect very little from someone you loathe, Holt-Lunstad surmises, whereas ambivalent friends, unpredictable as they are, often raise your hopes only to dash them. And that disappointment, or fear of it, can negatively affect your health.
Are you a female writer or a writer who is female? Does being a female mean you should automatically tailor your work to reflect your gender? As a young woman, I find myself predisposed to write about topics that appeal to other young women. I like writing about female issues, like gender discrimination, body image (which is of course not limited to females, but eating disorders are more prevalent amongst young girls), and I’m always referring to other women who quick ass. As Ms. Breslin says:
I’m sort of over relating my crotch to my place in the world.
But perhaps I’m limiting myself in the world by firmly entrenching myself in the “pink ghetto”? This post over at Deafening Silence talks about cutting across your social conditions, broadening your horizons and seeing yourself as part of a larger spectrum.
In a recent interview on NPR’s Morning Edition, Mr. Albee said the following:“Maybe I’m being a little troublesome about this,” Albee tells NPR’s Renee Montagne, “but so many writers who are gay are expected to behave like gay writers and I find that is such a limitation and such a prejudicial thing that I fight against it whenever I can.”He also said:“A writer who happens to be gay or lesbian must be able to transcend self. I am not a gay writer. I am a writer who happens to be gay.” He continued by saying, “Any definition which limits us is deplorable.”Mr. Albee has been criticized for his remarks by many gay writers, artists and bloggers.  Yet, like Ms. Breslin, he was simply advocating for the most radical, most basic human right- the right to be fully himself, whatever that is and whatever it means.

There are people whose entire identity seems to hinge on being part of some extremely narrow social tranche (sexual, ethnic, gender, religious, etc.)  Sometimes I wonder if pulling an identity blanket over yourself is a just a way of avoiding the messy confusions and contradictions that come with being human.

Denying the gray areas can certainly make life easier.

And finally, this photo made me want to jump on my bed with glee!
But not as gleefully as I would have face-smashed this cake!
Happy birthday to me!
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I have a love hate relationship with teenagers. I love them because of their youthful optimism. I also hate them for this reason. In addition to this, I feel they possess the distinct ability to ruin public transport for respective citizens such as myself, and sometimes the boys from the School up the road leave smushed sandwiches in my street. Those blossoming, pimply years are such an intense, exciting, horrible, haunting, excruciating and memorable time in a person’s life. Despite experience such a horrifically melodramatic roller coaster ride of the high school years myself (but really, who didn’t?), I’m still fascinated by adolescents. Everything is a life or death situation in your blossoming years; I’m sure we all remember the pain of love’s first sting across the handball courts, the phones subject to 24-hour surveillance by hopeful romantics, the scrutinising of every last detail of a conversation (I can’t believe they said “Hey! How’s it going?” instead of “Hey! How are you?”), the dissecting of every text message like Sherlock Holmes on speed (damn you emoticons!), the stolen kisses behind the football shed, the after-school punch-ups…. Teenagers and their concerns, hopes, dreams and obsessions exist in a separate, private universe from those who’ve entered ‘the real world’.

Which is why I’m still drawn to the young adult section in book stores. Instead of tripping over myself to lunge at the latest Elizabeth Gilbert release with new age enthusiasm, at 22-years-of-age I still trawl through the latest teen literary obsessions. But books aren’t where my fascination stops – usually after hurling the remote at the TV post prime time viewing, I’m logging onto Side Reel to indulge myself in mindless teen oriented programs. I’m disgusted but equally intrigued by TV shows like Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, the Vampire Diaries and the OC. These shows are unrealistically glamourous and melodramatic, usually featuring teenagers played by people older than myself with very pretty hair and an advanced vernacular (and for some reason an endless supply of credit cards).

But the point of this post I want to talk about one particular new cultural phenomenon – Lisi Harrison’s new series Monster High. More than a series of books, Monster High is franchise, which consists of dolls, an online cartoon and a whole website of games. Although obviously cashing in on the current supernatural fascination, I think Monster High might just be what all young teenage girls need.

Author of other popular teen fiction books such as the Clique, Lisi Harrison is well versed in the machinations of consumer consumption. Especially teenage fandom. Having worked at MTV and for teen magazine Jane, Harrison’s books contain a winning formula for pop culture success. She obviously knows what sells and what doesn’t. Take a look at the book covers for Monster High on Amazon – all nicely wrapped up in a pretty in punk rock pink package. Perfect for a mass female audience.

The series revolves around two female protagonists – Frankie Stein and MelodyCarver. Set amidst the backdrop of a fictional US high school, teenage politics are of course central to the plot. The catch? Not only are the school’s queen bees super rich, super pretty super smart and super sassy– they’re super human. Frankie Stein is the grand-daughter of Victor Frankenstein’s monster, Cleo de Nile a relative of the Egyptian queen, and Draculaura the miracle child of the lord of the un-dead, Dracula (perhaps Meyer’s theory of vampire consummation extends outside of the Twilight universe?). And so on and so forth. All aptly and quite obviously given a double entendre moniker (Melody Carver is the daughter of a plastic surgeon, get it? Har, har har!), these girls are all pre-occupied with the same 21st Century concerns. Boys? Check. Fashion? Check. Body image? Double check. And it is for this reason that I like the books.

Despite the obvious supernatural themes, Monster High is a lot more relatable than one may think. Like most girls, I was fairly repulsed by my reflection during my teenage years. Weighing more when I was 12 than I do now, I felt fairly freaking UGLY. Beastly, even. Similarly, the characters in Monster High all have their own individual body hang-ups.

After being created by her father Viktor, who also implants 15 years of knowledge, social mores, behaviour, customs and a bucket-load of 21st century popular culture into her brain, Viktor delivers to his daughter what might just be the most damaging message of all.  A message that’s unfortunately all too common in today’s society. Although described as an otherworldly beauty with a few supernatural gifts up her sleeve, Viktor tells Frankie her individuality will not be so easily accepted by the locals. Lest she be hunted down and burned at the stake, Frankie is given a closet full of unfashionable clothing and heavy-duty makeup to conceal her freakish figure. He tells her to be proud of who she is, just as long as she wears concealer (to cover up her skin, described as a delightful shade of mint).

Shocked at such a negative message, Frankie finds herself confused by the latest copy of Teen Vogue, which encourages young girls to celebrate who they really are, imperfections and all. Rather than heed her parents advice (who are really just acting in concern for their daughter’s safety), Frankie understands that she’s “supposed to love her body just the way it was…Natural was in.”

Unfortunately for Frankie, after ignoring her parent’s warnings, she steps out into public without covering up her seams, bolts and skin, and is met by a hysterical gaggle of teenage girls. They alert the authorities, and the area is put on red alert. Frankie has no option but to blend in and fade into suburban life.

What I love about this series is that unlike the Twilight monsters, who are described as achingly beautiful, sparkly, agile, strong, hyper-intelligent and oozing sexual appeal, the monsters in Monster High are so brutally insecure of their natural appearance and abilities that they go to extreme lengths to hide their true identities. Claudine, a teenage werewolf with extreme body hair issues, books herself in for extensive waxing sessions regularly to maintain a sleek and smooth feminine appearance. Frankie is even encouraged by her peers to visit the solarium to get a boy to fall for her.

Chances are, if you’re not in the demographic plagued by ‘Bieber fever’, then you’ll find the books incredibly cheesy and end up face planting in some Chaucer for recovery. But there’s more to this series than meets the eye – it’s just hidden under a plot laden with eye-rolling puns and the most popular culture references I have ever come across. I think the way the characters react to their natural attributes are something all young girls can relate to, and Frankie’s determination to buck against harmful body image trends is something all young girls can learn from.

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