A Feminist Watches: Miranda

I’m watching so much film and TV atm, now that my exams are out the way and so I thought, why not put all those hours to good use in a new blogging series I’m calling ‘A Feminist Watches’ because if I’m honest, sometimes I find it really hard to just enjoy the film without focusing on all the inequalities. I’m not trying to appeal to the stereotype feminism takes the fun out of everything but also… well…

I thought I’d start with my all time favourite female comedian Miranda Hart- and it’s spoiler free. Her show Miranda capital STOLE my heart when I was 10 (sorry, did that make you feel really old) but when I recently re-watched it I realised it wasn’t all such fun. See what I did there? (If the answer is no then you’re probably really going to struggle with the rest of this post so I recommend you phone into work, say you’ve caught a terrible case of existentialist crisis, pop to HMV if it still exists, buy the boxset and spend the rest of the day watching it before returning back to yours truly to understand what I’m actually on about.) On with the post.

Hypermasculinity: Miranda, I love you, but sometimes the way you treat Gary is reallllllly bad. (Why did I address that to Miranda, she is famous, she is busy, Jess she is not I repeat not going to read this.) There’s literally a whole episode where she mocks him for being scared of geese when geese are actually pretty creepy- I learnt the hard way after eating a bread roll in front of a body of water in 2003 and having to retaliate to the car bonnet to prevent being eaten alive by one of the hundred birds that emerged from it. Don’t underestimate the quack, it’s lethal. So, not only is this phobia pretty natural- newsflash: men are scared of things too!- but then there’s another episode (or maybe it’s the same one, I’m such a fake fan) where Gary feels the need to turn into a ‘Geezer’ to stop everyone calling him ‘sweet’. All this does is suggest that men have to wear a string vest and own a power drill to be proper men, which is such BS. I’d way rather have someone affectionate that can cry at Captain Phillips with me, than someone that thinks they need a Cher Lloyd style swagger in order to fit in, so stop scaring all the emotionally vulnerable guys into the gym please! Send them my way instead!

Women. Swoon. At. Everyone: I swear these ladies could come into contact with Donald Trump holding his Muslim Ban in one hand and wotsit wig in the other and still swoon. It presents women as such drippy drips. Plus, no one swoons anymore, the game has changed. If you like them you just snapchat them nudes with the dog filter or something.  Continue reading

The Dumbest Shit I’ve Read on Twitter

I’ve been on Twitter a long time. And in that time I’ve seen a lot of ‘DS’ (dumb shit- not to be confused with the Nintendo DS because I genuinely couldn’t bring myself to say a bad word about Animal Crossing). I thought, in homage to me being away from blogging for so long, I would reminisce over the worst bits that I’ve seen in the meantime on social media, in hope that these would set the bar really low for my future posts.

‘Men cannot do domestic tasks because they are too busy building civilisation’ This was said by a meninist who believed men didn’t have time to participate in childcare, housework, cooking, etc. What he hasn’t realised is that, yeah men might’ve built the modern world, but women invented beer, monopoly and the folding cabinet bed, therefore we’ve built the perfect Friday night.

‘Women can’t be SAS trained. They’ll distract men. It’s biological’ Did you see SAS: Who Dares Wins? Did you watch a woman and a man come joint first without sleeping together? And when they were being interrogated in, like, Morocco, did you see her dramatically undo her ponytail, unveiling luscious Herbal Essence-d locks and apply Mac Velvet Teddy, causing all the spies to stop their highly classified, significant jobs and have a wank over her beauty instead? No. Because not every guy was straight. Not every woman is beautiful. And most importantly, these people are so skilled at doing their jobs so if a human with two lumps of fat on their upper torso and no dick can distract them that easily then I really don’t think they’re qualified to protect the country. Continue reading

What FemSoc Taught Me About Feminism

For the past year I’ve been running my college’s feminist society (or femsoc for those of you with an abbreviation fetish) and today was the final session before we go on study leave and all the little year one feminist babs take over.

Despite what every American show suggests, running a society isn’t easy. It takes loads of research, planning, photocopying, shouting at people because they’re not assisting with the research, planning or photocopying, group chat drama and vocal strain because I didn’t realise how chatty everyone would be in between tasks. I’ve basically been popping strepsils like they’re going out of fashion. But out of all this work I’ve learnt so much about feminism and, as it’s been a while since I burnt my bra, I thought I would share.

What Running a Feminist Society Taught Me About Feminism

The Movement Is Still Super White: I realised how much of a white feminist I’d become when, brainstorming for session ideas, the top of the list were body positivity, representation of women in sport and ‘does merchandise devalue feminism?’ Important issues, yes. Deserving to be top of the list? No. These were subsequently interspersed with sessions like women in war and politics, but even then we could’ve done more to promote intersectionality. As a privileged white woman, speaking about cultural appropriation was hard; working out whether the Declaration of Human Rights had a western bias was simply impossible. When a society is run by white women our default topics are white ones, so you have to do a lot of research to stay inclusive. Feminism should encourage not speaking for other women but addressing their issues as if they were our own. Continue reading

Do We Choose Insecurity?

I’m of the (slightly controversial) opinion that people choose to be insecure. Obviously there will be exceptions like if you’re bullied you have insecurity projected onto you or if you have severe body dysmorphia you can’t help but see your body as fundamentally different to what it really looks like, but as a rule of thumb, insecurity is a choice.

In some senses, it isn’t a conscious choice. After all no one would choose to feel shit about themselves, but it other ways, it is a conscious decision as people choose to do nothing about it. They stay insecure and they stay complaining about being insecure and yet they do nothing to make themselves more confident. For a long time, I fell into this category too.

 

When I was younger I hated how I looked and the people I went to school with seemed to agree (why are kids so mean? Anyone?) so I would skip meals to get thinner- spoiler alert this technique doesn’t have the desired effect and only makes your stomach rumble reallllly loudly so it sounds like a miniature thunderstorm mid-maths test- and research different plastic surgeries to save for. I was miserable.

 

And then one day, after watching the Katy Perry movie (I’m convinced all the best mental breakdowns happen during the credits of this film) I cried to my mum about how sad it was making me, and after much emotional support she said: there’s nothing wrong with you, and even if there was, why would it matter?

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In Defence Of Buying Followers

I’ve never bought followers. But I’ve thought about it, and realistically I’m sure I’m not the only blogger who has.
But recently I’m seeing this hugely venomous reaction to people who have bought followers on social media-  it seems Twitter’s top 3 most hated topics are currently Fascism, Theresa May’s kitten heels and follower buying, and I find this really unfair.

 

Don’t get me wrong, is it annoying when you work for years to build up your blogging audience and then some tween with a few posts reviewing shitty Primark makeup gets 10k views overnight because she’s bought her WordPress followers? Yah. But is there anything inherently wrong with that? Well, not really.

 

 Often people are criticised for buying followers due to the belief that they haven’t put in effort so it’s ‘cheating’ but this is a massive assumption. While there are probably lots of people who do buy followers because they have zero patience and dodgy content that no one wants to read, there will also be lots of people who work so hard on their blogs and they just want a numerical reward which reflects how much effort they’re putting in. I mean, are you really going so spend actual, physical, real money on some website that you don’t give a shite about? There has to be some foundation of effort and love there in order for you to care enough to spend your dollar in the first place. For me, I feel like I would be completely justified in buying followers due to the amount of time and research I put into my content, photos and promotion- I just personally choose not to because I prefer to grow my following myself. But who am I to judge someone who has a different preference? 

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Foundation Finding Struggle

I’m the first person to admit, my foundation is always wrong. Whether it’s the wrong shade, brand or coverage for my skin, it’s consistently slightly off in some way (even though everyone’s too polite to tell me, it’s kewl guys, I know). But as I’ve been talking to more people, I realise, we’re all kind of in the same boat- it seems no one really knows what colour sludge to rub across their face- and so I thought I’d compile a list of all the relatable struggles in the search for the perfect foundation.

The Impossible Shade Finding Experience: I go into Boots looking like your average Urban Outfitters It Girl yet I come out as a Dulux Colour Chart with every shade from porcelain to espresso swatched on my arm- even though 90% of the colours don’t even come close to my skin tone, once I’m 5 samples in I usually just think fuck it and collage my elbows with Chris Ofili-esque dotting and pretend I belong in the Tate Modern too. Until Boots run out of tissues. And so I have to walk my exhibit around with me for the rest of the day and risk being chased out of Topshop by the security guard for contaminating the fishnet tights with Rimmel.

But the problem is if you’re one of life’s risk-takers who doesn’t swatch, favouring a ‘grab the bottle which looks right’ approach, then you can face some dire consequences… Continue reading