accidental feminist

murderball= reminds me of that night court episode… August 28, 2005

You know, the one with the mean blind lady who everyone tries to reach out to until they find out that she was always cantankerous, and going blind had nothing to do with it. In fact, it’s uplifting, in a way, to see that these quadrapeligic men don’t change when they lose their legs; the pompous ones are still pompous, the goofy ones still goofy. They do what most people would do under the circumstances: go on living.

My favorite part was when one of the players was asked about his upcoming appearance in the Special Olympics. “It’s not the Special Olympics! I mean, what they do is great and admirable, but we’re not in this for a hug. We want the gold!”

wonder woman and smurfette August 26, 2005

I was musing today about the gender identity models that shaped my early childhood, and came up with these two formidable females, both of whom were seminal to my formation of my own sense of what it meant to be a woman. Specificially, a woman must:

1) save the world with her gold bracelets while wearing a bikini (I know I’m not the only one who ran around in those Wonder Woman Under-Roos), or. alternatively,

2) Be the uber-female in a male dominated world; univerally saught-after, sexy and seductive, yet uncompromisingly chaste.

As a sidebar, I also learned from Smurfette that brunettes are evil, and must be transformed into positive members of society through magic incantations and monthly salon visits.

I’m not sure who the fictional female role models of the very young are today, but I wonder if they offer any better alternatives?…

you’ve come a long way, baby? August 12, 2005

Sexy kitchen aprons? According to some (The Wall Street Journal), an attempt to cash in on an affluent market where the women cook once a month as a novelty, and want to look cute doing it. According to others (indignant left-wing feminists with short hair), a feeble subterfuge created by men to lure women back into the kitchen. And still others (eerily happy neocon feminists with manicured nails) see it an attempt by advocates of difference feminism to help us accept and embrace our true femininity.

My question is: why is it that they haven’t created a Chippendales line for men? Hmmm…perhaps because the myth that women are just as image-oriented and objectifying as men is wrong? Or because it’s right, but women are only just as likely to objectify other women (face it ladies, you’re not watching Alias to see Michael Vartan kick box in a strapless dress.)

I reached the end of the rainbow, and it was North Halsted August 10, 2005

My husband and I were driving around aimlessly for our night out this evening, when we stumbled upon a couple blocks which I haven’t visited for a while. You know what I’m talking about. I remember when they erected (pardon the pun) those rainbow beacons along Broadway and I just thought, “Don’t those just scream ‘fun, fun, fun’!?” What tickled us tonight was a Budweiser billboard depicting two obviously gay men in what seemed to be a bar-like setting, holding beer, with the slogan, “Be Yourself.” It’s like a whole other world over there; kind of like driving into Pilsen and having all of the billboards turn Spanish.

At any rate, Yosef and I clearly were not the first to discover that advertisers are tapping the gay market. When this started happening years ago, the Christian right was already all over it. So I guess I’m really behind on the whole gender politics issue.

All I can say is this: those “Queer Eye” podcasts are the cat’s meow. My favorite tip thus far: “Don’t know what to do with that holiday sweater? Step one: roll into ball. Step two: hurl out window.”

burka beauties August 8, 2005

I was just informed by a reliable source that, under their modest and, some would add, symbolic of opression, burka, many Muslim women wear incredibly fashionable clothing, impeccable make-up, and salon-perfect hair styles. According to this source, who saw such women with and without said burka, the rules of modesty that require them to wear burkas in the first place are completely null and void in settings in which they are permitted to remove their burka (aparently with other women and men in their immediate family). Therefore, these women spend hours a day preparing for those few moments of sweet, sweet, freedom when they can shed their black cloaks and bare themselves* to…other women and men in their immediate family.

This answers a burning question I always had when I would pass Muslim women on Devon,, which is: What must they think of me? I had always thought the answer was: “You are an immodest infidel.” Now I know that their thoughts sound more like: “Under this burka, I am hotter than you will ever be, infidel!”

Any Muslim readers (I know I have a big following among the Saudis), feel free to clarify or refute any aspect of the aforementioned.

*Note: Picture may not actually represent a Muslim woman without her burka. Individual results may vary.

Hang Ten! August 1, 2005

I just came back from a family vacation to the Wisconsin Dells, and by far my favorite attraction was the FlowRider (TM) at the Kalahari Resort (TM). First of all, I’d like to note that I totally rocked that thing. I mean, I may not have actually gotten on my feet, but I’m sure I would have, given a little more practice.

But secondly, I would like to observe that, sadly, I was the only “adult” (over high-school age) woman who went on the ride in the half hour I was waiting in line. That’s a sample of about 40 people. There were more three year olds who had to go on with the assistance of a lifeguard (two, to be exact, one of which was my brave little one Bassie), than able-bodied woman willing to “ride the wave.”

Why, I ask?
Was it that they were looking after their children? Isn’t that what husbands are for?
Was it that they feared the embarassment of wiping out? Isn’t that what self-esteem is for?

So, overall: rousing success for yours truly, sad defeat for the post-modern woman.

But don’t take it from me…

For the love of fluffy…

Let us take a step back on this knitting adventure to examine the motivation behind our stichin’. Personally, I believe that knitting is all about love (conceptually). Whether it takes the form of love for thy self or love for others, you are spending your hard pressed time and hard earned cash to make a little somethin’-somethin’ because you care. By its very nature, knitting is about protection—of ears, necks, hands, or even cell phones and yoga mats. Sure, it can be decorative too, but most projects are geared toward keeping our loved ones warm in the winter (or Movie Theater if you live in CA).

For a large group of Americans, visions of unconditional love are often pet-related. In honor of the loving spirit of both knitting and our lingually challenged companions, I thought it apropos to bring your attention to the spinning and knitting of pet hair. Cisco isn’t going to live forever, you know, so why not have a little memento? Saving a pet’s hair has some practical purposes too—someday cloning is going to be affordable for the masses!

What should you make with Sparky’s freshly spun hair? While I think the keepsake heart pattern a bit useless, the picture frame might go nicely with a room already covered in hair.