"Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X"

Please read the following in the voice of a British documentary narrator. My personal favorite is Tony Jay, but you feel free to pick your own:

Greetings, followers, and welcome to a special installment of Magical Girl Power's "Field Guide to Misogyny." In this segment, we will explore the first of three prominent players in the field of misogyny, with a focus on body policing, hetero-normalcy, and invalidation. First, we have the ever-present "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X." In the second place, we have the all-too-common "You Can't-er." Finally, we shall finish this series of "Field Guide to Misogyny" with the annoyingly self-superior "One-Upper."

Moving straight forward, we come first to the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X." An insidious creature, no one has ever seen this particular man, but apparently every woman is made painfully aware of him. Every time a woman is told that she should change her outfit because "boys will get the wrong idea" or informed that "men" hate a certain item of clothing, we are exposed to the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X." His opinion is meant to control every aspect of life as a woman. When a woman is told that she should dress to impress, she is being told that the one she must impress is the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X." What he thinks of every possible stitch of clothing on her body or particle of makeup on her face is of utmost importance.

This creature is particularly slimy and harmful due in first part to its obvious use in total cis-het male domination of women, and in second part to its complete falsification of the minds of real men. Both of these aspects work together to harm people of any and all genders. By policing women's bodies in pursuit of ultimate appeal to the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X", we perpetuate hetero-normalcy on all sides. Let us face the facts - not everyone is straight. The range of orientations out there is truly dazzling. Only ONE orientation has anything at all to do with the desires of a cisgender, heterosexual male, and that is cisgender heterosexuality. If you are a cisgender, heterosexual woman, by definition, you are attracted to men. It doesn't even necessitate being attracted to CISGENDER men, as far as I am aware.

So how has the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X" become so phenomenally ingrained into every aspect of our world as we know it?

1. His opinion is the yardstick by which every woman is expected to live her life.
2. The preferences and desires of actual men are over-shouted by his ever-present influnce.
1. Example: I cannot think of a single man I've ever met who even HAD an opinion on hi-lo hems. I asked my friend Elf what he thought of them and he said, and I quote, "hooziwhatzits?"
3. Men who fail to live up to the standard of "Theoretical Random Cis-Het Male X" are demonized, because this creature is the ideal of our society. Deviate from that, and you will be punished.
    

What does one do when faced with the presence of this draining force of a mythical creature - this parasitic unicorn, as it were? How do we, as feminists, remove the importance of his opinions to ourselves and to others around us? 

One suggestion is the same as with bullies on an elementary school playground - ignore the pest and, when it ceases to obtain the reaction it desires, it folds up and disappears. Of course, this suggestion is laughable in all practicality. Nothing has ever been solved with ignoring the problem. However, a change in reaction is beyond doubt a necessity. It is a frightening prospect for many, such a drastic deviation from the norm. Imagine, for a moment, what would happen if everyone woke up tomorrow and entirely ceased to base their lives around the presence of our subject?

It would be 1929 for the advertising industry. Instead of scurrying to buy this, that, and the other thing out of fear and shame, people would buy what they like and what makes them feel good. Of course, it would not be the end of the fashion and beauty industries in entirety, but it would certainly change their place in societal context. Imagine a world in which people brushed their teeth because it is the hygienic thing to do, not under the influence of how "If you're not whitening, you're yellowing." Is it really so radical to think that having less than Chiclet-bright teeth is a sin so heinous that you will spend the rest of your life a tired old hag without a "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X" to sweep you off your feet and fix your life?

That is the presence of our subject: the fact that toothpaste companies can sell you a product based on your worth to him, instead of the product's benefit to your overall health.

We at Magical Girl Power suggest awareness as a combatant to our subject. When one is aware of a problem, when a problem is spoken openly of, then the problem can be solved. Talk to your friends about the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X." Post about him online. Spread this article around. This is your first step.

Your second step involves NOT being on the computer. The second step is the hard one. Have a sit-down talk with yourself and be brutally honest. Not about your flaws, not about what you hate about your body, nothing negative. Have a talk with yourself about what makes you feel awesome. Talk it out loud, write it down, lay things out - put things in front of you that make you smile and think "Dude, this is great!" You are allowed to have pretty dresses. You are allowed to have a pair of perfectly holey jean shorts. You are allowed to have makeup, or Spice Girls CDs, or leggings, or a pair of your brother's cargo pants. Whatever makes YOU feel wonderful, surround yourself with those things. Feel comfortable with those things - tell yourself all the reasons these things make YOU feel amazing. Remind yourself, often and verbally, that YOUR wants and desires and taste matters.

Beware - you may hear the irritable, buzzing voice of the "Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X." It may come in the form of a Cosmo cover, or a rerun of Joan Rivers body-snarking some female celebrity, or even a well-meaning relative. Stuff in your figurative headphones - or your literal ones, if you find that helps. Block out the presence of our subject by reminding yourself of everything that makes you feel amazing. Anything that seeks to invalidate your wants, desires, and taste is to be rubbed out during this step.

Step three is the hardest of all - act upon step two. Choose an outfit - ANY outfit - and wear it in complete defiance of our subject. Tell everyone around you, LOUDLY, that this is what you are doing. Encourage them to do it too. Whatever you are doing or wearing or saying, do it confidently from your own place in the universe. Reject the opinion of our subject, even if you have to say out loud at the top of your voice, "NO, Theoretical Random White Cis-Het Male X - I do not give a shit about what you think I should do or be." The more we practice saying that and doing that, the less power our subject has.

This has been the first installment of Magical Girl Power's "Field Guide to Misogyny." We hope you'll tune in next time for the "You Can't-er." For now, practice your rejection of today's subject.

Marigold, wishing you a happy Monday, over and out!

Just an observation - sort of like birdwatching!!!

I'm not entirely sure how this came up in a conversation between my mom and myself last night, but something brought this subject to our attention. I think it may have had something to do with Marie Antoinette and this book I found in the library years ago but can't remember the title of. Maybe it was something period on television. Either way, I've got no idea, but the bottom line was this: humans are basically birds in reverse.

Before you look at me like I'm entirely warped in the head (don't worry, I know that already!) hear me out on something. Human fashion, for as long as we've had visual records of human fashion, has been far more decorative and elaborate on women, from everything I've found. If you find something to the contrary, please send it to me because I'd love to see it! I did a little digging and everything I found supported the birds-in-reverse theory. I started Googling formalwear for men and women around the world. I tried to find traditional where I could.

Japan, for men - exact Google search "formal kimono for men":

I have to say, for the sake of full disclosure, I am by no means an expert on fashion of any kind. I don't know what the nuances of the colors mean or anything else. I know that the little white stamps on the back are called "mon" and I believe they bear family crests. If anybody can correct me on that, please do so.

Japan, for women - exact Google search "furisode":

I do know enough about kimono to know that the formal kimono for an unmarried woman is called a furisode. I don't know if this one is specifically for the coming-of-age ceremony at 20 years of age, but please notice the differences. The man's kimono is in very subdued, neutral colors, just like most female birds. The woman's furisode is brilliantly colored and the sleeves look almost like wings. They're almost like a male and female cardinal with their color schemes done in reverse!

Korea, for men and women - exact Google search "Korean mens formal attire traditional":

I can't be entirely sure, but from the episode of M*A*S*H I've seen that featured a traditional Korean wedding, I think this may be wedding hanbok. At first, I thought "hanbok" was just the word for Korean women's clothing, but it looks like it might just be the word for clothing! In this case, yes, the man is wearing red too, but his outfit is nowhere near as jewel-toned or elaborate as the lady's.

 This is a picture from the movie of the musical 1776. The costuming is pretty accurate to the period. Notice a pattern here?

I'm no sociologist or psychologist or fashion-ologist or any other kind of "-ologist" you can think of. I'm just a feminist on the internet who happens to notice things every once in a while. There's a million and one implications that can be made out of this pattern, I think. I think some implications are definitely feminist, and I think some are definitely patriarchal. However, in my world, feminism means that everyone has the right to choose what fashion means to them.

The only "-ologist" I come anywhere close to being is a zoologist. I can say, from a zoological viewpoint, that I have never seen a species that treats one gender or the other the way humans treat women. Hyenas are EXTREMELY matriarchal, but you generally don't see packs of female hyenas setting upon and killing a male hyena because they didn't like the look of him. Gorillas are led by a silverback male, but females who do not want to participate in sex have been known to swat oncoming males with sticks while hooting at them in a threatening manner. Bonobos use sex to say "hi" - no joke. No species I've ever heard of so systematically enacts violence and death against its own kind. It doesn't make any kind of species-survival sense to do that.

Just... from what you see here - the "birds-in-reverse" dynamic, what are your thoughts? I'm really interested to hear them. Also, where did we get this whole "stomp women into the ground" mentality that has swept our entire world? I'm quite sure that a great deal of it happens to have to do with colonialism, but I'm nowhere near caffeinated enough to do a whole spiel on that right this second.

Marigold, wishing you a wonderful Wednesday, over and out!
 

Big News: I struggle too.

Go ahead. Call me a hypocrite. Call me a "bad" feminist. Call me whatever you like.

I'm going to level with you. I struggle very heavily with my own body issues, for however much I encourage other people to love their own bodies. Every day, my brain bombards me with things I would never dream of saying to another person. If I heard someone else telling another person the things my brain tells me, I would become violently angry. Again, on the level - I am seeking therapy. It's for more than just body image issues, but that is a large-scale part of it.

Just a sample of what goes through my head every day:

"Dear god, look how fat you are!"
"What the hell is wrong with you, you pig!"
-when eating- "That's it, piggy - snuffle in that trough."
"No WONDER your clothes don't fit, fatty!"

I have my own reasons for hating literally every single part of my body, with the exception of the Hidden Mickey that is my amygdala (look it up!).

Okay, now that all that is out of the way, listen to me, if you still can:

I DO NOT WANT ANY ONE EVER TO FEEL THE SAME WAY ABOUT THEIR BODY AS I DO ABOUT MINE!

Please, if you hear the same voices in your head - the ones telling you that your worth is equal to the sum of the failings of your body, please get help. I need feminism to help me realize that these thoughts are not normal. I need feminism so that I can help myself and other women to stop accepting the things we say to ourselves that we would SLAP someone else for saying to us!

If I could trouble you to read something right quickly for you, this article inspired the writing of today's post: The Fitting Room Trenches: Fighting the War with the Mirror.

In there, they describe the articles women are bombarded with every day - the ones about constantly having to fix or improve ourselves. You know what those articles are doing, no matter how much we claim to be strong and unaffected by them? THEY ARE KILLING US. It happens every time someone looks in the mirror and wilts at what they see.

"Nobody will ever love me with THESE thighs..."
"Ugh, I look like a crack-whore with this hair."
"No wonder my boyfriend left me - she's prettier."

With every thought like that, something inside that person dies. It's like if you're watching Peter Pan and you just... stop clapping. And those advertising agencies (AND THE PATRIARCHY!) are making absolutely obscene amounts of money on these killing thoughts. As long as we're killing ourselves to "improve" this, that, and the other thing, they can keep selling shit we don't need.

You need soap to wash dirt and sweat and all kinds of goop off your skin - not to make your stretch marks disappear.
You need shampoo to wash ick out of your hair - not to land you a relationship.
You need a toothbrush and toothpaste so you don't get cavities and your teeth don't fall out - not because you're worthless if your teeth don't look like Chiclets.

Anything else, buy it because YOU want it. If you want to wear a full face of makeup and dress to the nines all the time, do it! Enjoy it! If you want to never, ever wear makeup and never, ever dress up ever, do that! Enjoy that too! If you want to never do the same thing two days in a row, that's fucking awesome! Just... whatever you're doing, please do it for YOU and to help yourself love yourself.

Example: I wear makeup and put on nice clothes because it actually helps me feel less depressed. When I perceive myself as looking better, I find myself feeling better. On the days when it's the hardest, when I've been wearing my pajamas for three days, I need to dress up the most. And I have had people tell me that I cannot be a feminist and wear makeup/dress up, because that's "feeding the patriarchy." No, I say! It's not feeding THE patriarchy - it's fighting MY depression. In my world, feminism means taking the focus OFF of the perceptions of cisgender men. So what the hell - if I put on makeup and a dress and that makes me look "conventionally attractive" to cisgender men, so fucking what? I'm not concerned with Random Cisgender Man X's opinion when I put on that makeup and those pretty clothes. I'm just concerned with making the voice in my head that says "You'll never be worth anything, you fat whore!" shut up for a little while.

The points of this writing:

1. Even feminists can and do have body image issues, so can the body-shaming. Can it!
2. We really need to stop body-shaming OURSELVES, cos it's counterproductive. I'm working on it.
3. Look however YOU want to, for YOU.

Thank you for bearing with me this lovely Friday, my friends - this is Marigold, OUT!

Elizabeth Short

Hey, sorry for the extended hiatus.

A bunch of stuff happened in my personal life that made blogging not a thing that was happening. I'd spend a few paragraphs apologizing for that, but that isn't what this one's about. Perhaps at a later date, I may go into light detail about what made this summer so crazy and all. Right now, though, it's three days to Halloween, I'm still a feminist, and I've got something to say.

This past Saturday, I went out with some friends to have a few drinks and generally drag my sorry carcass out of the house for a few hours. Expecting me to say something about the "typical" Halloween costume for women right now? Nope, sorry - totally out of luck there because I don't buy into body policing! Suffice it to say, I went the "I have a dress and now I have an excuse to wear it" route. My friend Raven is a stitch-witch and she made this BEAUTIFUL black dress for a performance and I was honored to have another reason to wear it! I sat down in my dressing area with my big mirror and I started getting ready.

Shameless costume bragging: I did totally awesome vintage-y hair and makeup. I call it my Elphaba tribute setup. Green, glittery eyes with black winged eyeliner and lots of mascara on my top lashes... Shimmer cream instead of blush... For a finale, red lipstick with red glitter brushed on over it. Yes, I thought it was right genius to dip a Q-tip in Mehron Barrier Spray and blot that on over it. Okay, yeah, that's enough of that. Back to the whole point of this!

Long story short - put my dress on, threw a vintage greatcoat over it (yay, Goodwill find!) and headed downtown. Parked my car, headed to a coffee shop to wait for my friends to come meet me - sounds pretty standard, right? Well, after people in costumes began to surface, people started to ask me "Well, what are you?" I hadn't really gone out with the intention of anything beyond "Elphaba tribute/kinda pin-up thing," so I didn't have much of an answer. So, I fished around for something more interesting than that to say about it. Then I thought about marathoning American Horror Story, first season, with Raven while she finished the dress...

"Elizabeth Short," I told curious inquirers.

"Who's that?" they would ask.

"The Black Dahlia," I told them.

Of course, THAT'S when the recognition or sort-of recognition would dawn on them. And that is when I started to think. I didn't like what I wound up thinking about. After thinking some more, I sat down to write all this.

Okay, here's a little history lesson. Elizabeth Short led a short and rather troubled life that ended in Los Angeles on January 15, 1947 when she was murdered by an unknown perpetrator. A young mother with her toddler discovered Short's body in the Leimert Park area of Los Angeles. The media of the time went nuts. It is Edgar Allan Poe who said something to the effect that there is nothing so poetic as the death of a beautiful young woman. The sort of macabre cult interest in the "Black Dahlia" murder is sick proof of that.

On the television show Criminal Minds, the team makes extra effort to say things like "Don't name the killer" and "Don't give them that fame." It is right that they say these things. Name me three American serial killers. You're maybe thinking Charles Manson, Ed Gein, the Green River Killer, the Zodiac, Son of Sam... You history buffs may think of Albert Fish and H. H. Holmes. Here's another question, though: Can you name me even ONE victim? Okay, Sharon Tate. I'm not even going to bother giving my full rant on how nuts it is that serial killers have fans and followers while nobody remembers the names of the victims 

Sharon Tate. Go Google her. This is the first sentence in her Google blurb: "Sharon Marie Tate was an American actress and sex symbol." She was white. She was pretty. She was married to Roman Polanski. And she was murdered. Any movie buffs out there? What was she in? Oh, right... Does it matter? She was that sexy girl who was murdered. It's almost like we fetishize murdered (white!) women. 

Okay, back to Elizabeth Short. What was she like? Did she like to dance? Who was her favorite singer? What was her favorite book? Nobody remembers those things. For most people, nobody ever does, so that's not all THAT unusual, is it? I bet you couldn't tell me Ingrid Bergman's favorite song when she was sixteen - that's not what people become famous for. But Ms. Short... Her ONLY claim to fame is being brutally murdered, dismembered, and then discarded like garbage. The crime scene photos are actually pretty well available on the Internet and are objects of fascination, from what I gather. In the words of Timon, "And everybody's... okay with this?"

I'm not. I saw her portrayed as an unhealthy nymphomaniac paying for acting auditions with sex on American Horror Story. I saw her added to the script of the show in... actually pretty decent writing, in my opinion. It made me wonder, though... What was she really like? The Wikipedia said she had trouble with asthma and bronchitis. I can't even find anything that says she WAS an aspiring actress. Are we now just making this murdered woman into a character and remembering things about her that aren't even true? 

So, I'm Elizabeth Short for Halloween. Sure, you saw her on American Horror Story. Whatever, right? No. Not whatever. There's not much that can be done now to right that wrong. There's no killer. There's no closure. However, in my own heart, I am choosing to think about Miss Elizabeth Short and what she might have been like as a person. I want to give her a little glimpse of life again while I go out and enjoy myself and continue trying to make the world a better place. I'm not saying forget her name - remember it! Remember, however, that she was a human person like yourself. Remember that she had dreams. Remember that she was more than a crime scene photo or an object of macabre curiosity.

Elizabeth, I'm talking to you, sweetie - let's go out and have a good time, shall we? I'm Marigold and I won't forget you.

"Slutty slutty slut!" and going to bat for Miley Cyrus

Okay, the only bit I caught of the... was it the VMA's? was the N*Sync reunion thingy. For the record, I remain Team Backstreet Boys and was largely unimpressed. I don't know who won what, and quite frankly, since Josh Groban wasn't involved, I don't much care. Since I didn't watch any of the rest of the show, I didn't figure I would have to think about it anymore. Yeah, I would have been more than okay not to think about it anymore. Awards shows since the Kids' Choice Awards about ten or twelve years ago have about left me cold.

But no, apparently that's not how it works.

This is me stating for all time, I am not and nor have I ever been a fan of Miley Cyrus. Watched a couple episodes of the show on my brother's recommendation, but I found iCarly more entertaining. Over the years, yeah, of course I heard all the Miley fallout - her brief period as "America's sweetheart" and her (HOW DARE SHE!?) steps away from Disney Channel child superstardom. At first, I was just sick and tired of hearing about her - "Why's she such a big deal?" was my question. Then I started hearing (some of it sort of retroactively) about things like counting down to the young lady's eighteenth birthday. That's when some of the stuff I was hearing started to sort of rub me the wrong way - I know what it's like to have people get really nasty when you don't stay what they want. I shrugged most of it off because celebrity gossip isn't something I usually give a whole lot of thought to. Honestly, I figured there'd be a big explosive scandal and then she'd fade off into the background when something else happened. More about that later, though.

Every time somebody opens their mouth about whatever the heck Miley did at the VMA's, all I hear is "Slutty slutty slut!"

Here's Salon.com's take on it.

I really can't say much on the subject of music videos, given that I don't watch them terribly frequently - usually it's something of Tarkan (incredibly attractive Turkish singer) that my friend K. sends me. Also, I don't know what "ratchet" is. Sorry, I really don't. I've heard some of the "Miley + ratchet + cultural appropriation" fallout, but I've got my own opinions on some of that. I'm also really not sure what "twerking" is. Oh, and by the way, most of the "Slutty slutty slut!" battle cry that I've seen is coming from other women, just FYI! Ladies, what have I said about tearing each other down!? I don't care about your unreasoning pathological hatred of Hannah Montana or whatever. If you have nothing constructive to say, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!

AH! AHHHHH! THIS IS IT! I couldn't have said it better myself:

"Last night’s performance brought the public’s perception of Cyrus one step closer to the “crazy” narrative — the casually misogynistic, “OMG, quick, look at another crazy, fucked up, slutty girl go down.” It’s often a white girl, because they’re more commonly featured in our dominantly white cultural narrative. But black female performers are criticized too, sometimes in racialized ways.  Lauryn Hill, Rihanna and other popular performers have been portrayed as dangerous, sexually transgressive and unhinged.  Lauryn Hill went so far as to sing, “I’m not crazy,” at one point.  Our cultural obsessions with the mega flame-outs of Britney Spears, Amanda Bynes, Lindsay Lohan, Whitney Houston and other “troubled divas” have been epic.  And the democratizing effects of the Internet now mean that this kind of micro-examination of girls’ lives and actions is by no means limited to celebrities."

Uh, yeah, about that last line - it's NEVER been limited to celebrities. Every generation spends hours and hours upon days and weeks and months over-thinking every aspect of FEMALE. It's how things like witch burnings and female genital mutilation happened and continue to happen. It's how "Slutty slutty slut!" is the absolute worst thing (besides FAT!) a female can be. Also, I am now laughing myself silly at the "you may also like" that links to a headline about Rush Limbaugh. God forbid, RUSH FUCKING LIMBAUGH be offended by Miley Cyrus. But moving on, I just wanted to say one thing about something that keeps popping up in the running commentary.

"Her daddy screwed up."

FALSE! (Thank you, Katie, for giving me "FALSE!" as a comeback. I love you!) This kind of shit gets my hackles up like nothing else in the world. Look at the sentence: it implies that she - everything about her, like her SEXUALITY! - belongs to her father. Okay, I remember the Vanity Fair shitstorm. I think I saw the pictures once? Okay, she got topless around her dad. HE CHANGED HER DIAPERS, I would assume! Just... fucking ew. Assuming that a young woman "belongs to daddy" until Prince goddamn Charming comes along to ask for her hand (more objectification!) is shit. Complete shit. I do not know the Cyrus family personally. I've never met Billy Ray, never met Miley --- and I'm sure most of the people posting about this never have either! Yes, parents do a lot to shape their children's world view, for good or ill. However, eventually everyone, the parents included, has to get it through their head that the offspring is no longer A child (yes, they'll always be THEIR child) and is their own person.

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Oh, and on a related topic: learn the difference in "I don't like something" and "Something is wrong." You can dislike something all you want, but your personal dislike of something does not make it wrong. You can have your personal opinion of how you think a certain performance should go or what a performer should be doing or whatever. If they fail to coincide with your opinion, you can say "I don't like that." Calling it "wrong" is pretty fucking entitled, in my opinion. It's like you're saying "Everything has to be just the way I like it and I'm going to throw a temper tantrum if it's not."

On this same subject: learn the difference in "wrong" and "incorrect." They are not always direct synonyms. Someone can be doing a thing incorrectly - that has to do with their technique. However, the thing they are doing incorrectly may not necessarily be wrong - that is a value judgement. And doing something "incorrectly" is not always bad. Example - a person is attempting to build a bird house. That is probably not wrong. This same person is attempting to drive in a nail with a shoe. That is incorrect - they should be using a hammer. If, however, the shoe is getting the nail into the piece of wood so that the bird house is coming together okay, then they're probably fine.

The point of the stupid example - you can NOT LIKE that someone is building a bird house with a shoe, but saying that it is WRONG for them to do so is pretty dumb. You're holding them responsible for your feelings, so you can go sit in the back of the bus with the homophobes and the friend-zoners and the people who freak out about exposed breasts.


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Also, I have a whole 'nother spiel about how we treat attention-grabbing behaviors in boys versus girls. I'm not going to go into a whole lot of detail here and now, because Criminal Minds is about to come on and I need to walk my dog, but I'll at least give you a little of my own experience:

"Attention" was a dirty word when I was growing up. I was discouraged from "drawing attention" to myself. I couldn't do theater, couldn't try out for solos in chorus, and I fought with my mom about clothing. I realize that last one is normal, and I also realize partially where it comes from. My mom (I love her!) is painfully shy. She would rather go Steve Irwin on a seasick crocodile than have anyone look at her for any reason. I'm almost the complete opposite... I mean, I'd still help the crocodile, but I'm a performer by nature. I sang and danced all the time as a kid. I like being around cameras and onstage. And, for some reason, throughout my entire formative years and adolescence and all that, that was a horrible, bad thing that made me a horrible, bad person.

Obviously, I don't think I'm that bad. I'm kind of a screwball and my personality is big - that makes it hard for some people to know how to respond to me. Does that make me a bad person, though? Apparently. However, dudes with big personalities who are kinda screwy are lauded - they're class clowns and cute and funny and all that shit.

Just look at the difference there. We tell all kids "express yourselves and do your own thing." When guys actually do it, they're individuals at best and "rebels" at worst - but the "rebel" thing is seen as attractive. When girls actually do it, we say "No! That's not right/ladylike!" or tell them that makes people uncomfortable. The message there is "Fold up and disappear, because everybody matters more than you." Fuck that.

You know what? I never thought I'd be saying this, but you go Miley Cyrus! Do what you do and continue to be your own person unapologetically. Continue to make people uncomfortable. PLEASE make people uncomfortable! Keep making us analyze how we treat females who "misbehave." You're doing something really important. You're really exposing how misogynistic our society as a whole is, particularly in regards to society-wide slut-shaming.

Oh, and one last note: can we stop using "slut" the same way we use "fat"? Like that's the worst thing a female person can be? J.K. Rowling said it best: "'Fat' is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her. I mean, is 'fat' really the worst thing a human being can be? Is 'fat' worse than 'vindictive', 'jealous', 'shallow', 'vain', 'boring', or 'cruel'?" She doesn't think so. For my sake, take a second and re-read that quote with "slut" where the word "fat" is. Is "slut" really the worst thing anybody can be ever? Take these words for what they really are: dismissals. "You don't matter because fat" is the exact same as "You don't matter because slut." The message is exactly the same as spitting the word "attention" at someone who likes to perform, and that message is "FOLD UP AND DISAPPEAR." Apparently, it is the responsibility of women to make sure nobody is ever offended, ever.

Fuck that. Seriously... If you don't like something, be honest - say "I don't like that." If you don't agree with something, be honest too - say "I disagree with that." I'm not saying you have to like and agree with everything because that would be stupid. Oh, and if your reason is "I don't like it because slut" or "I disagree because slut", then go away. Just seriously, go away.

Marigold, feeling beautiful and serene in the days before DragonCon, wishing you a happy and safe Labor Day weekend if I don't talk to you before!!!

A Good Man at the Good Men Project!

I love waking up to something I love! *grumps* Nevermind that it's almost 2 in the afternoon - I've done enough today without being awake and got enough going on besides! Okay, I'm still in the process of reading this one, so give me just a minute to think on it and process it. Wait a tic! I'm being a mite selfish! Here! Y'all read it too!

It's called "Why Women Aren't Crazy" - go read it!!!

You know, just a few paragraphs in - get to the bit about the Bergman/Boyer picture - this stuff already makes a lot of sense! Yashar Ali recognizes and points out with no bones about it, how people (of ALL genders!) constantly berate women about their emotions. Let me level with you on something very, very personal that is quite relevant to this article and its subject:

My dad is not at all well. He's been in ICU in the hospital here in my home town since Monday, July 8th. Given that I don't have my mom's official okay on how much to post here, I'll be brief. Long story short, we've got a 50/50 chance of celebrating Father's Day next year. Things are not looking good. This turn of events is coming after my mom enacted a legal separation with my dad - one that has been very long in coming. ALL of this is coming after watching my dad deal (very poorly at that) with his alcoholism since he retired when I was a junior in high school - 7 years ago.

Now, it seems to me that I should be expected to be a touch wonky during this exceptionally trying time. However, I have discovered that 90% of everyone I deal with seems to think they know how I should handle it, because obviously I'm doing it wrong. I keep hearing from all sides "You're just being over-dramatic - he's not THAT sick" and "Aren't you blowing things a little out of proportion?" (That one always comes with this disgusting tone of faux-sympathy.) My personal favorite is "Aren't you making this all about you?" - that one's the tune and refrain every single time I express anger.

I realize my situation is quite extreme at the present moment and not everyone is dealing with something like this or WILL deal with something like this. I pray to every god in existence that you, my beloveds, never ever do. However, I feel the point is valid in sharing it with you because of one reason: no matter what it is, if a woman expresses ANY negative emotion, she's "nuts."

Here's the problem with all of that, quoted direct from the article above.

"Gaslighting can be as simple as someone smiling and saying something like, “You’re so sensitive,” to somebody else. Such a comment may seem innocuous enough, but in that moment, that person is making a judgment about how someone else should feel."

Oh, and don't even get me started with "What, are you on your period?" Loath as I am to resort to violence, with how short my fuse is recently, that phrase is an instant trigger to a punch in the teeth. If you're a man (assuming you were born male), you've never had one, so you don't get to say that. If you're a woman (assuming you were born female), you've had one, so you don't get to either. Actually, I'd say woman-on-woman gaslighting is worse. We expect it from men - fathers, boyfriends, brothers, guys at school/work. If you're female, please do not contribute doubly to the problem by gaslighting other women and diminishing the possibility for healthy female relationships.

But refer to the last sentence of that block-quote again (and be proud of me for figuring out how to use the block-quote feature). And here's another block-quote for you that actually sums it up better than I could. I'd tip my hat to Mr. Ali, but I haven't got a hat.

I don’t think this idea that women are “crazy,” is based in some sort of massive conspiracy. Rather, I believe it’s connected to the slow and steady drumbeat of women being undermined and dismissed, on a daily basis. And gaslighting is one of many reasons why we are dealing with this public construction of women as “crazy.”

Y'all... This is a man who gets it, and gets it good. It isn't something one person dreamed up one day to "keep us down." It's something that our society does day in and day out, month after month, year upon year, and generation to generation. Well, you may ask, where does it stop?

Go look in a mirror. Yep! YOU. I don't care if you're male, female, whatever gender you happen to identify yourself as. Forgive my total lack of filter, but I don't bloody care if you identify as a spayed English Sheepdog! YOU, YOU, YOU, have the power to help stop societal gaslighting. "Oh, but Marigold!" you may exclaim. "How can I do that with society as a whole standing in my way?"

Here we go: next time someone expresses a negative emotion (don't care about THEIR gender either, come to that), and you open your mouth to say "You're being too dramatic/sensitive/selfish/whatever"... DON'T! You might think they truly are being a nut about it. When a person is upset is not the time to put in your two cents unless they directly ask you for help. Oh, and don't tell them to "Calm down" either. Just don't. (Read that in Captain America's voice.) Yep, it's as simple as that. When a person is upset, it kinda doesn't matter how you think they should feel about it. It matters how they feel about it and that it needed to come out. Try words like:

"I'm so sorry."

"Is there any way I can help?"

"What do you need?/Is there anything you need?"

"Would you like to talk?"

I don't care if you're the "fixer" kind of personality. A lot of the time, what you need to understand is that someone coming to you with a problem is not asking for help. Most people, when they want help, will ask for it. In the situation of "not asking for help," generally what they want is for you to listen. A lot of this societal gaslighting thing seems to come from a general refusal to listen to anybody at any time ever. Everybody wants to be heard, but nobody wants to listen. To a person dealing with a negative emotion like anger, sadness, or frustration, a general refusal to listen boils down in its purest form to "I don't matter."

Yeah, when you're telling someone that they're "dramatic" or "sensitive" or "crazy" or "out of proportion" or what have you, you are telling them "YOU DO NOT MATTER." Can you do that to someone in good conscience? If you can, I feel sorry for you. If you didn't realize that's how it came across, I want to give you a hug. Now you know and you can fix it! This one, like every other problem, starts getting fixed with you.

Oh, by the way... I don't normally do things like this, but I'm going to ask that all of my readers please pray for me and my family. I don't particularly care what deity you pray to or how you pray to them. Just... please... We're having a really hard time and we could use all the prayers and love and good energy and hugs that we can get.

Marigold, sending out love and good energy cos you gotta give 'em to get 'em, wishing you well!

Breaking down "Schrodinger's Rapist"

Recently, I read an article on WordPress and posted it to my Facebook page. No, I'm not posting my Facebook page on this blog, sorry! There has been a great deal of debate going up on my page about the article. First thing I'm going to do is post a link to the article itself.

The Schrodinger's Rapist Article. Please read before commenting.

From what I've seen on Facebook, a great deal more women agree with the article than do men. The argument I've been hearing from men on my Facebook is this: "How dare you speak of all men as if 50% of them could be rapists?" While I do understand the indignation, I maintain that it is impossible for a cisgender male to understand the absolute terror that can come with being born female. I asked my friend P. [name withheld] to read the "Schrodinger's Rapist" article again from a different perspective.

If you haven't yet, please read the article presented in the link above. The commentary to follow is directly related. I was born female, so I feel pretty qualified to explain this. I know I do not speak for all females ever, but I have heard enough assenting commentary/conversation that I am confident in what I say.

Guys, I need you to use your imaginations. Tomorrow morning, you wake up and you were born female. You get out of bed and you go to your closet. You run over in your head where all you're going today and try to dress accordingly. Simple, right? There's different clothes you wear to different places, right? Well, right... to an extent. Are you driving or walking or using public transportation? Let's say you're using public transportation. That affects how you dress today. Say you want to wear that adorable pencil skirt you bought last week... Do you get to? Depends on if you want to run the risk of everything from leers and stares to having obscenities shouted at you to actually being touched.

Congratulations - you haven't even left your BEDROOM and you've just encountered the Schrodinger's rapist concept. A THEORETICAL man you have never even laid eyes on just affected your wardrobe choice. You put the pencil skirt back in the closet and choose some slacks. You get on the bus and you go to work. When you get there, the air conditioner is broken, but you leave your jacket on anyway, because you don't want to get blamed if your male coworkers stare. If one of them complains, YOU are going to be reprimanded - you could even lose your job.

Back on the bus after work. You pull a book out of your purse and try your best to radiate "leave me alone" to every other human being in the near vicinity. There's this one guy. He starts trying to talk to you. He might be a homeless man. He might look like he's in college. He might be Robert Downey Jr. The fact that he's talking to you makes you wonder what he wants. You heard about the incident where a man started screaming and berating and cursing at a woman who didn't want to talk to him on a subway in New York - it circulated through most of your Facebook friends. You can't tell this guy on the bus, "Look, I'm really not interested in conversation right now - please let me read." If you do, 1. you're a horrible bitch and 2. you have no way of knowing if this guy's going to do like the guy in the blog incident.

This guy on the bus... Again, he may be a Nobel Peace Prize winner AND a doctor AND a lawyer AND an Indian chief. The fact that he won't leave you alone makes you nervous. He is now, no matter how good a person he may be, Schrodinger's rapist. You are making it non-verbally clear that you do not want to talk to him, yet he insists. If you talk to him, you feed the behavior and he talks more, making you more uncomfortable. If you don't talk to him, you run the risk of him pushing more, possibly starting to shout, maybe causing a scene. To boot, by social "law", any adverse reaction on his part is your fault. You weren't "nice" enough. You were a "bitch."

And you have no idea how fast or how far this guy's behavior may escalate if he decides he doesn't like something about you.

Doesn't it sound paranoid? Doesn't it sound extreme? Yeah, yeah it does, when you weren't born female and haven't actually had these experiences before, many more than you are even physically capable of documenting because they happen so frequently. Maybe they're not the scale or intensity of the guy on the bus. There's the guy leering at you in the Barnes & Noble - maybe today's the day he'll follow you to your car. There's the way your lady friend's boyfriend makes you uncomfortable when he drinks too much at parties, and how it's YOUR responsibility to excuse yourself away from him - and it happens time after time. There's the icky feeling you get in your stomach when you're working closing shift and you have to take inventory of all your male coworkers. Which one of them is it safe to ask "Will you walk me to my car?" Because remember, if you didn't have someone walk you to your car and something bad happens, it's your fault. If you ask the wrong male coworker and something bad happens, it's still your fault. Maybe you could have asked a female coworker, or maybe you're the last woman to leave the building.

There are a thousand and one little instances of the Schrodinger's rapist concept in a woman's life every freaking day - many of them do not even involve a flesh-and-blood man. That theoretical man who might leer, stare, holler, grab... or rape? You don't even have to see him. You just have to know he's out there. And he affects your life in such intimate ways that if you were not born female, you can never understand what it's like to live without him.

Go read the original article again. Try to read it from the perspective of a woman who's sitting on her couch going, "This makes me sick because I know that guy." Understand that the article is not meant to alienate or bad-mouth anyone. It's meant to communicate a permanent state of mind because whatever horrible things happen to women, it is our fault. Our bodies are public property. Understand that when we say "No man comes with a zero risk factor," we aren't trying to condemn you personally - we're just trying to protect ourselves. Understand how "boys will be boys" and how it permeates every thread of the fabric of our society leaves women perpetually unsure of their personal safety. Do not take it personally.

But please, please be angry. Please be angry at guys you see pestering women who clearly do not want to talk. Please be angry when you hear girls being told how to prevent their own rapes. Please be angry at examples of male entitlement - street harassment, "boys will be boys". Please be angry at how the "rape schedule" (look it up) governs every moment of  life as a woman. Please be angry that articles like "Schrodinger's Rapist" NEED to be written to communicate how terrifying the experience of being female can be! Please be FURIOUS!

Please get angry enough to DO something... besides attack us.

Exams Are Over!

No, this post is not about my exams being over - it's just an explanation of why Tuesday and Thursday went by without any sort of post. Well, it is officially summertime now, so blogging may experience a revamp in schedule, particularly as I lose track of days...

Okay! Following a conversation with my friend N. [name redacted], I have decided to return to a blogging subject very near and dear to me.

As some of you may know, yesterday was a very special day for the Walt Disney Company, hereafter referred to as the Disney Empire. On May 11, 2013, Princess Merida of Castle DunBragh appeared for her coronation as the eleventh Official Disney Princess.

Excuse me... wrong Eleventh!

That one! Yes, Merida (apparently with assistance from Angus - picture is not from coronation ceremony) appeared in the Magic Kingdom yesterday to receive her crown. In true Eleventh fashion, Merida broke with tradition in her coronation.

Yes, Merida was crowned by her mother, Queen Elinor. I don't have the whatsis to go hunting all over Tumblr for the picture I saw yesterday, but here's the gist of it: Princess Tiana was crowned by Prince Naveen. Princess Rapunzel was crowned by Eugene Fitzherbert, alias Flynn Rider. And then it hit me... I scrambled to look up the "Official Disney Princess" lineup, even though I have it memorized. Just needed to see it.

Can you tell me how each of these princesses is similar? There's one answer I'm looking for, and it specifically relates to Merida. Okay, I'll go on and tell you. I am absolutely, positively not knocking any of the Disney Princesses for anything. I think they're all incredibly special and wonderful in their own ways and they all have their own strengths, gifts, and badassness. Merida, however, is the only Disney Princess to remain single by the end of her movie.

I'm just saying. I do not think it is anti-feminist or weak or whatever to have a relationship/get married/whatever. I just think it's really neat that Merida's big step forward at the end was mending her relationship with her mom and becoming a badass leader in her own right. Yes, she had the same issue as Jasmine, and they handled it DIFFERENT ways. That's freaking fantastic! Mulan and Belle had issues in the same vein, and they all handled it the way THEY were meant to!

I want to see people stop tearing the Disney Princesses down for this, that, and the other thing. Tearing someone down, even a character, is not going to get you what you want, and it makes you look terribly petty, in my opinion. Instead, focus on things that ARE badass and awesome. You know what? New summer blogging project. I'm watching every last Disney Princess movie and doing a spotlight on the featured princess, starting with Snow White and finishing with Brave. Then I can just focus on being excited for Frozen!

Marigold, with Disney on the brain, wishing everyone a happy Mother's Day!

This is all kinds of not fucking okay.

Take a second to take a look at this.

Yeah...

Oh, by the way, do NOT tell me I am "taking things too seriously" or "it's just a joke." The hard fact is, if a woman is murdered, it is most likely (per case) to be by an intimate partner. Doesn't matter if they're married, doesn't matter if they had a one-time thing... This is just way effing not-okay. I'm fine with the targets of zombie lawn critters. This? No. Just all kinds of no.

This is just this side of actively encouraging violence against women.

Okay, I know what catharsis is. If you want to make Sims of all your exes and then burn the house down, I think that's probably fairly harmless. I know I've made a few "voodoo Sims" in my time. Seriously, though? Encouraging a real person to put real bullets in a real firearm and shoot them at an actual target that bears disturbing resemblance to another real person? Yeah, I think that may qualify as cultivating psychotic behavior.

This is disgusting. Normally, I do not state my opinions as if they were fact, but this really is. With rates of domestic violence in this country being what they are, there is no excuse for this. Add to that how many instances of domestic violence include the use of a gun, whether or not the weapon is actually discharged? Yeah, let me just say, if you think this bloody thing is funny, I no longer wish to know you.

If you read the article, you can tell these people don't exactly have a history of products in good taste. I don't care what your view on the President of the United States is - it's not a good idea to produce a target that resembles a living individual. Yes, I am aware of the history of effigies. The fact that people do it does not make it a good idea. They pulled that product, and now it's time for people to let them know that they need to pull this one. If I were you, I would be encouraging any firearm-enthusiast friends not to patronize this company at all.

If you are so upset with your former partner that you feel the need to point a REAL GUN at something resembling or representing that person, I encourage you to seek professional help. No, I'm not being patronizing there. Every single gun-related death, I believe, is a preventable one. If you think you may have the desire to harm someone, own up and take responsibility. I, for one, will not judge you for doing the right thing and getting help.

So, all in all, this just made it to the top of my rage list. I'm going to cut this off before it becomes a full-blown screaming rant that can be heard on the moons of Neptune. All of my lovely readers, now is the time for you to rise up and bring forth your squirrel to the bagel shop! No, wait... that's not right. Now is the time for you to send some sort of communication to this company, even if you are not their patron, and inform them of your displeasure. I'm not saying to be rude or mean - that doesn't solve anything or make them listen. Instead, take the time to write something well-thought-out to tell them that this product has no place in distribution.

Have fun making "voodoo Sims"!

Marigold, done with exams, over and out!

Glad I did that post yesterday...

Apologies, folks...

I am ill once again.

Off to enjoy Phenargen, naps, and struggling through tomorrow.

Surprise Wednesday post!

I was skimming through my Facebook feed when I saw something the lovely, wonderful, sweet, and talented Persephone Phoenix shared:

Here's the link, just in case!

Ladies, have you ever felt this way at a con? No matter your size, shape, color, ability, what have you - has someone been unkind about your body at a con? Well, it's happened to me. It's happened to me at my lowest weight, which I estimate at about 102, and my highest weight - approximately 160. (Measurements are in pounds cuz I'm a dumb American...) I've heard it happen to other ladies - built similarly to me, built just like me, and built totally different from me - and it's not okay. 

We deserve to LOVE to love our geekiness. All of us. Those of us who are size 2, those of us who are size 22, those of us above or below or anywhere in between. It is a gift to love something, to have passion for it, and you deserve to love that gift. 

I'll reference my article on being excellent to each other again: we have GOT to stop tearing each other down and stop letting OTHER ladies be unkind to each other. It supports a culture in which our bodies are public property - where any schmuck on the street can say just whatever they please to us. When you hear people being jerks, SAY SOMETHING! Make it known that we aren't going to shut up and take it and neither should anybody else!

Gents... I am disappointed. Not calling out anybody individually here, but I am disappointed. I hear guys complain and complain about women at cons. Guess what? You have absolutely nothing to complain about. Look around at every woman at a con you go to. Think about how many, for every single one you see, stayed home for fear of harassment and body shaming. Imagine if every last one of those women who stayed home - whether out of fear, shame, or just being sick of it all - actually came to the con. Really, sit there and have a think about that. I'm no great shakes at math, but if there's 10,000 women at a con (hypothetical number) and for each one of them, five women stayed home because of body shaming... If I was a guy attracted to girls, I would be wailing and gnashing my teeth in the street! Then, I would get up off my butt and start thinking of how I could get those ladies to come to the con! How could I make cons a safer, cooler, more awesome place for ladies?

Some hints:

• Unless you are actually speaking of a cetacean, let the word "Whale" never escape your lips. 

^^^ This is a cetacean.

• Same goes for any sort of body-shaming language. I am going to assume you know well and good what is body-shaming language. 
• While we're at it, refrain from using any word connecting a woman's worth with what she does with her secondary sex characteristics. I KNOW you know what those are.
• Cut the bullshit about "I bet you never read the comics" and whatever. Got news for you - half of the new Avengers fandom only watched the movies. Same goes for Batman. Same for X-Men, Spiderman... Same will soon go for Superman. Get over it and just enjoy sharing the fandom. 
• When you hear people doing any of the above... Well, I cannot actually advocate violence. Metaphysically, smite them with a giant hammer. In reality, make sure they know what they're doing is not okay at all ever.

Okay, making this list is actually killing my brain cells. Guys, y'all are intelligent people. You know how not to make people uncomfortable. You know how not to be mean. Please, for the love of every single deity ever known to any being on this planet, USE YOUR GOOD SENSE! I'm trying to help you! (I'm trying to help everybody...) 

Pardon me - you may skip the oncoming rant if you so choose.

DUDES! Why the hell would you ever give a girl any trouble at a con!? A girl who caught shit at a con is a girl who will likely not come back, tell her friends not to come, and all that! EVERYBODY LOSES IN THAT SITUATION! If I were a dude, I would be treating every single girl I came across like she was God's gift to the planet itself! Because guess what!? WHEN GIRLS FEEL SAFE AND NOT SHAMED OR HARASSED, THEY WILL LIKELY COME BACK! What the devil is so hard to grasp about this!? Don't be a dick and don't allow harassment and body-shaming to go on and WOMEN WILL COME HAPPILY TO CONS!

Okay, sorry, that was my first reaction to seeing that comic and I just had to let it out. Seriously, everybody, can we just... not? For real. I don't like it. Other people don't like it. At no point does it make sense to go about doing things that are damaging and wrong and hurtful. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Nerds get bullied enough in the "real world." Cons are no place for bullying. 

These guys said so. Do not disagree with these guys.

Marigold, unable to continue typing coherently while looking at that picture, wishing you happy Wednesday!

Quick list of STUFF today!

So, I apologize to everyone, but I've got a lot going on at the present time and I'm not feeling particularly insightful today. Not to leave you with no post and nothing new to think about, I'm just going to post a quick little list of stuff to ponder and links to visit. Everybody cool? Great!

• Could Elphaba's mother really give consent? What the hell was IN that Green Elixir? Yeah... the things one thinks about when one is a feminist musical-lover.
• Project Unbreakable - a picture project to give voice to survivors of sexual violence
• Thing you can do TODAY to make a difference: donate gently-used clothing to crisis centers/shelters/etc. It's season-change time and it's time to do a little closet purging. While you're at it, consider picking up an extra pack of basic underpants next time you're out. Rape victims are often required to give up their clothing for evidence collection. A couple bucks and you can provide someone who really needs it with a pair of undies. 
• Guys - this article makes a fascinating argument for doing the right thing!
• This is not exactly feminist-related but... for the love of several gods, make sure you're drinking enough water! My recent battle with dehydration just makes me want to remind everybody to take good care of themselves. You've only got the one body this time around - take care of it!

Okay, that's about all I have the brain-power for today! I'm gonna go put the dog on his leash and take him out to see the pretty sunshine! Love for everybody!

Marigold, experiencing exam-brain, wishing everyone a happy Tyr's Day - look it up!

Relevant to Issues of Crossplay

How many times have you heard turns of phrase that suggest womanhood/femininity has a negative connotation? Ever been told you do something "like a girl" in that condescending tone? Ever heard a friend stress that their little boy plays with dolls/paints his nails/likes dresses? Ever wonder why the worst thing you can call a guy is a "p*ssy" and the worst thing you can call a girl is a "c*nt"?

Everybody go read this on Feministing.com.

This is a link on how a bunch of Kurd men dressed in women's clothing and accompanied their photos with messages of pride and respect for women. When I first heard about this, I just smiled a lot - I found it lovely and heartwarming and something to be very happy about. I'm still happy about it and I would love to thank these fellas myself. However, now, I'm really sitting down to think about what they're really addressing.

Why the ever-loving hell is it, the world over, somehow shameful to be feminine? Why is it a cardinal sin to be like a woman? Why is it, in some cases, a capital offense to BE a woman?

Then I thought about my friends who crossplay. I thought, first, about my friend Y. [Name redacted] I have known Y. for years through our mutual convention-going habit. For the first many, many times I saw Y., I did not know Y's born gender. I didn't care, frankly - that's just my friend Y. and that's all there is to it. What was under Y's dresses had absolutely no bearing on Y. being my friend! Y's cosplays were fantastic! Showed a great deal of skill and dedication to the cosplay habit! It wasn't until I was at a convention with my now-ex-boyfriend that I heard comments. The comments my thankfully-now-ex made were homophobic, transphobic, and misogynistic. I'm not repeating them hear, because no one I know needs MORE reason to go whomp that guy.

I have another acquaintance - I'll call this one E. I happen to know that E. is biologically female. For as long as I have known E. she has cosplayed male characters. She and I are not close enough for me to know if she has ever received criticism for cosplaying male characters. From other biological females I know who cosplay males, I haven't heard of much flack of that nature. Heck, since most anime men are designed with the intent of satisfying a female audience, they're PRETTY! There are many characters that look equally good when portrayed in flesh by males or females. Correct me if I'm wrong, but there is much less stigma on F2M cosplay than M2F.

It's not just my friend Y. that I have heard catch a hard time. Men who crossplay as women are often assumed to be gay, and the assumption is made with a negative connotation. You know what? I'm not okay with that. I'm female. I think it's pretty awesome. Clothes marketed/designed for biological females are fun! Skirts and dresses are comfy and come in all kinds of pretty colors! I'm perfectly fine with anyone who wants to wear them doing just that!

Cosplay is about way more than clothes, though. Cosplay, for many, many of us is about the characters. You watch a series and, more often than not, the character you want to cosplay is one who SPEAKS to you. For example, I cosplay Tomo Takino from Azumanga Daioh - I have since I was eighteen years old! When I watched that series, I (and most of my friends) immediately saw an overwhelming similarity to my sixteen-year-old self in the character. Tomo is biologically female, like me. In Rurouni Kenshin, the character of Misao Makimachi spoke to me almost more than any other character has ever done. I've cosplayed her since I was sixteen! But imagine if Kenshin had been the one... And imagine if Misao had spoken to Y.

Why would it be okay for me to cosplay Kenshin but not okay for Y. to cosplay Misao?

Oh right... Because in this world, the worst thing you can possibly be is a woman. I'm really fucking offended by that, just so everybody knows. I hate it that you call a guy weak by calling him a "p*ssy." I hate it just as much that you say a girl has a bad personality by calling her a "c*nt." Both of those imply that lady-parts are something bad. FUCK THAT!

I'm just one cosplayer, one blogger, and one feminist, but here is my affirmation to you:

COSPLAY WHOEVER YOU WANT.

It doesn't matter if you look like them in body type, race, or secondary sex characteristics. Make that costume. Commission or buy bits if you need to! WEAR that cosplay! LOVE that character! Go all the way to replicate their personality!

NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO GIVE YOU SHIT ABOUT IT.

If they do, call them out on their bullshit. If you're a guy cosplaying a girl and someone gives you shit, call them out. Tell them that their comments are bigoted. If you're a girl cosplaying a guy and someone says something, you tell them they're full of shit! Tell them you don't appreciate them bringing their crap into a safe space! I'm not going to tell you don't let them affect you. It's okay if something hurts. That's called being human - we have feelings and they get hurt when people are mean to us. TELL people that their comments are hurtful. You've got the right not to be harassed.

Think about these Kurd men. If they can do what they did, where they are, what business do we have using femininity to shame? I'm not ashamed to be a woman. I'm not ashamed to have feminine traits, nor am I ashamed to have masculine characteristics. Polarization and emphasis of differences, to me, are not constructive or productive. Let's look more at what makes us PEOPLE. Yes, there are differences, but I keep saying, instead of assigning value judgments, let's celebrate!

Marigold, psyched for the Georgia Renaissance Festival this weekend, wishing you love!

Seeing as I am also a critter person...

I suggest you all read THIS.

I know I keep telling you to go read things or watch things. It's good for you - keeps your brain active. I'll be patient while you read. Go on! I'll just go walk Stitch and be right back!

Now, okay... If someone hurt one of my animals... Once I got through killing them, resurrecting them, and killing them again, everyone would be calling for their heads on pikes. And this is as it should be. We live in an age that people recognize that animal cruelty is not okay. There are movements to make animal cruelty a felony in many states. Whether it's organizations or individual pieces like the little angel who rescued Jackson the cat, people work to save animals. Never once do they ask what the animal did to "deserve" what happened. Nor do they ask how it could possibly, in any way, shape, or form, be the animal's fault.

You know, I'd really like that same consideration if something happened to me. Not sure if I've made this clear enough, but I happen to be female. And I'm totally okay with that - to tell you the plain truth, I like it! I've got long hair to play with and, let's face it, fashion is always kinder to ladies than it is to gentlemen, aesthetically speaking. Case in point, and in light of my recent participation in a theater appreciation group project, I give you American fashion in the 1960s. MUCH kinder to the ladies - most of that stuff looks tolerable even today. What I don't like about being female is that, no matter what happens to me, it is on ME to prove how it wasn't my fault.

I am all for the bit in the Constitution of the United States that gives people the right to a fair trial and all that - we really need that. But I was unaware that "innocent until proven guilty" somehow translated to "guilty until proven innocent" when the situation involves violence against women... In theory, if something happens to me, not only do I have to prove that I was the victim of violence, but I have to prove I didn't deserve it! To me, that sounds... well, fucked up. If a man is threatened with violence and he gives up his wallet, he did what he was supposed to do. No one would say to him "Well, didn't you know better than to have that much cash on your person?" or "Well, why would you dress to suggest that you had money?"

Go and read a little bit of that article again.

Are you scared yet? If you are female, are you getting it through your head that your pet is more likely to get a conviction if it is a victim of violence than you are? I'm not even going to do the whole "This could be your mother/sister/girlfriend/what-have-you" thing. No, because men need to get it through their heads that women are more than "their" anybody! Guys, look around. There's fully half the population who probably couldn't get their attacker convicted because of their gender. Now look at your pet. I'm not saying people who abuse animals should be given any leeway at all - far from it. I'm just saying it's a little twisted that they're more likely to convict the same man of beating his dog than they are of beating his wife or girlfriend.

I don't normally do the whole "This - be outraged about this!" thing. However, looking at Stitch on the couch next to me got me to thinking. If someone hurt him, I would see them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. If that wasn't good enough, I'd be assembling a posse. The only "justified" cause for hurting an animal is if it's harming someone, and most people get that. However, people seem awfully confused on when it's "justified" to act violently against a woman. You know what? I'm going with the same thing as before. It is only "justified" to use violence against another person if they are doing you bodily harm. Not their clothes, their state of intoxication, their refusal to date you, their refusal to consent to sex within a relationship or out of it... ONLY if someone is doing you bodily harm may you act with violence.

Can we just go with that?

Marigold, retreating to her couch fort, bidding everyone a decent Tuesday!

Miss Representation - my thoughts

He everybody! My sister, best friend, and fellow blogger posted this video, "Miss Representation," on Tumblr a little while back. I apologize again for taking so long, but with the extended illness, it couldn't be helped. I've got several lovely commentaries for y'all stored up in my backlog, but with the end of the semester and trying to play catchy-uppy, I've got to prioritize. Right now, this is what I can't stop thinking about.

Please watch the video. Please! Really, I can wait - I'm patient! I'll just sit here and eat my delicious ginger-sriracha soba with pan-seared squash and portobello mushrooms. Cool? Okay, I'm just gonna wait while you watch.

Watched it? Good! Now, okay, I have a few things to say on this. One, this short video is just the trailer for a whole film. If someone could direct me to where I might watch the full extent of the film, I would be most grateful. Two, this should be required viewing for all human beings in a media-driven society. There are definitely things I agree with, like the media being "gatekeepers" of the status quo, control of information, and a lot of people's distorted self-worth. Three, there are some things that, as a feminist, I disagree with.

I realize these women - good, intelligent, remarkable women - are feminists too. I respect them greatly. In my Media and Society class last semester, the incomparable Dr. Stone had us watch "Killing Us Softly." I encourage everyone to watch that as well - it gives people of every gender so much to sit down and think about. However, the overwhelming message of "Miss Representation" and "Killing Us Softly" is one that I disagree with. The message reads (in my opinion, feel free to RESPECTFULLY disagree) that any sexual portrayal of women is automatically bad. Sexual portrayals of women are, without exception, unilaterally demeaning and objectifying.

As an aspiring pin-up model and burlesque performer, I absolutely must disagree with this on principle. PART of women's power and personhood is sexuality. This is something I disagree with an entire "wing" of feminism on, and I believe it contributes to many misconceptions about feminism. One of these misconceptions is that feminists hate sex and sexuality and want all women everywhere to become asexual so that men can't get laid. I'm sounding the bullshit alarm LOUD AND CLEAR here - I dunno about any of you, but here's one feminist who does NOT hate sex! It's just as bad as the "Oh, they just want an excuse to go have free sex." I'm not even COMMENTING on that crap. I believe it is divisive and unproductive, this first misconception.

1. It, like so many other things, superimposes a removal of choice from the individual woman about her sexuality. She must follow someone ELSE'S definition of "how to do it right" instead of thinking, considering, and making her own choices for her own body and sexuality. 
2. It becomes a "made" problem. While we're busy fussing and fuming and fighting about who's "doing it right" and who's not, we're not making ACTUAL PROGRESS. Chew on that for a second, and how much it benefits the patriarchy.

I am NOT knocking "Miss Representation" or "Killing Us Softly." I think the messages are profound and powerful and they need to be heard. I just think they are not the be-all and end-all of what feminism is. It is always, always, always so important to question ideologies and see how they fit with what YOU want out of life. If something doesn't sit right with you, speak up! That's what I'm doing. I am very impressed by these women and I adore them for what they do. I am also open to the possibility that I may have misinterpreted the message. The bottom line, though, that I got from all this is that media portrayal of women in any sexual context is a bad thing. I know that there are bad portrayals - you'll be hearing about them a lot on here! I do not think, however, that all portrayals can be painted with the same "wrong and bad" brush.

To me, pin-up, burlesque, and the convention scene are all very positive outlets for female sexy-ness and body positivity. I think of these places as safe spaces for women to express themselves in a powerful, wonderful way. I think a lot of women feel the same way. It really does rub me the wrong way to imply that any sexual portrayal of a woman is a bad thing. To me, it smacks of "Poor Widdle Deluded Girl Syndrome" - the mentality of "ANYONE knows what is best for a particular woman better than that woman herself." I dunno about you, but I know ME and I am the only one who can know ME better than anyone else on the planet. To tell me how I should feel about the portrayal of my body is presumptuous and rude. Let me decide for myself how I feel about a particular portrayal, cos sure as hell you're going to hear about it!

Marigold, hoping this lovely soba stays down, and giving everyone a high-five today!

Illness

Hello, everybody! I know I said last time there would be no more unannounced hiatuses. Well, I'm really sorry... I said that before I ran afoul of the local creeping crud or something like it. I got a very definite diagnosis of "It MIGHT be a virus." Long story short, I had a somewhat extended illness. Might as well blog that, right? Yep... Get this recorded for posterity. I shall now advise those who are squeamish to skip this entry and wait for the next one. And away we go - breakdown by day...

Thursday, April 4th: Wake up feeling like something is very, very "off" - can't put my finger on it. I've experienced gastric distress of varying degree before, so I just go "Well, dammit..." and don't think much of it. Now, at my current university, I have never had to leave a rehearsal to throw up before. So, imagine my chagrin and flat-out annoyance when, in the middle of dress rehearsal at the darn church, I have to stumble down from the risers and flee for the ladies' room. Yep, ramen in reverse is never, ever a pretty thing. Disgusted, I go back to rehearsal and just mouth the words, fully intending to pass out and sleep it off when I get home. Sound good? That's usually how it works.

Side note: I don't really remember how this happened, but sometime Thursday night, in between bouts of puking my guts out, I fainted in the bathroom. The shower was apparently the closest place to fall, so fall I did. My legs are just now not black and blue. Came to with Stitch's great big cold nose on me. Dang smart dog!

Friday, April 5th: Wake up with the phrase "Look what the cat dragged in, killed, and then shredded" applying very specifically to me. By this point, I'm aware that something is very much not right, but in no way am I ready to admit this to the general public. I grump, stumble, and zone out through the rest of my day. Fast forward to after my geography class, round 1:10... My friend Josh (more about him in a bit...) and I meet up for Starbucks. [Funny side story: his drink basically attacked me. One, gotta thank my best friend James for that old pair of jeans! Guy jeans are thick as hell, so no harm done from the rogue cappuccino. And I got a decent laugh out of it, which I sorely needed.] Josh says something about me looking unwell, but I insist that I'm perfectly fine. I turn down his offer to accompany me to the health center and swear up and down that I'll be fine.

I have never had a minute's issue with Starbucks hot chocolate. Given that, I was extremely unhappy when said hot chocolate escaped in reverse when I had been home no more than ten minutes. By this point, I have not eaten in over 24 hours and I don't intend on changing that. This has happened before and I've learned the best thing to do is wait it out. I figure on trying to keep water down and doing just that. I take it easy the rest of the day and go to bed rather early.

Saturday, April 6th: I wake up at some ungodly hour with my digestive system trying to turn itself inside out. I am no longer capable of holding down fluids. Exhibiting what I think is common sense, I go back to bed for a while. Even Stitch is looking at me like "Mama, you look like rot." Seriously, when your dog looks at you like that... I dunno what time it is, but the sun is definitely UP when I call Josh and tell him that I'm admitting to being exceptionally stupid and need to get seen about. I seriously cannot possibly thank him enough for turning up to take me to the immediate care center.

We get there and I am seriously not sure how the hell I did all the paperwork. I barely remember doing any of it, except that my hands were shaking really badly for all of it. I get called back and Josh goes with me. By this point, I'm familiar enough with this type of illness to know what's coming. Since I was sixteen, I intermittently get this weird gastric malfunction where I throw up for three or four days (because I'm too stubborn to get seen about) and wind up on IVs. This is where I mention needles are among the only things I actually fear. No, it's not rational, but I really don't care. It scares me and that is that. Knowing it's coming just makes it worse. After the preliminary little Q&A session with the nurse, we get sat in an exam room and it's basically just "wait for it."

Yep, you guessed it: IV fluids. They give me a liter of fluids and a shot of Zofran, to make the nausea go away. Just so you know (this comes back up), that didn't work. I basically freak out through the whole IV process, but kinda sorta stayed conscious. Leave with a prescription for more Zofran, this in pill form.

Josh brings me (and Stitch so he's not at the apartment by himself) over to his place and I pass out for... a while. I slept through the pharmacy being open, so I didn't have any anti-nausea anything. By the time I'm awake... I think around 5:30 or something like that, I'm dry-heaving. There's nothing left to come up and dry-heaving is incredibly uncomfortable. Josh comes in with his girlfriend Kendall and Kendall's getting ready to go to prom with somebody. I get out of bed long enough to get her fixed up with some shoes and stockings and a jacket. I'm shaky and having issues walking around, but I'm still having a problem admitting that I'm not fine. Kendall gets picked up by her prom date and Josh and I go back inside - still at his place, because I really don't think he trusts me to take care of myself...

Night of throwing up and dry-heaving commences - digestive system on the warpath and water is once again not staying down.

Sunday, April 7th: I have no idea what time it is when I register as "awake." Night has been spent rather horribly, pretty much no sleep had. For some reason, I'm in better spirits though. Still at Josh's place. Spend the day with him and Kendall. I nap on and off for most of it. I think I start to get up and move about 4. We go on a gas-station run and I get myself a Sprite. That's what my mom always used to give me when I was sick as a kid. At first, this seems like a great idea. I get about a quarter of the bottle down. Unfortunately, in not too long, two bad things happen. One, I throw up about half of that. Two, my lower GI decides it wants in on the fun. Don't worry, sparing you details. I'm worried, but determined to make sure it's nothing. I get to about half the Sprite... about half of THAT comes up. About 7:30, Josh and Kendall are taking me to the ER.

We're in the waiting room about... I'm gonna guess thirty minutes - I suck at judging the passage of time and I was not really "with it" at this point. My lower GI is on the warpath by this time. Paperwork gets done and they call me back. Okay, if you haven't figured out by now, I'm an incredibly stubborn individual. After I hopped on the scale and off again, I nearly pitched right on over and the nurse pulls up a wheelchair. I'm going "No, no, I'm just dizzy, I swear!" Well, I get wheeled back, mortified and grumbling. MORE mortification - I have to shuck out of my leather jacket and shirt and wear one of those awful hospital gowns. This discomfort is off-set by the load of pre-warmed blankets that the nurse and Kendall get me all tucked into. I've got my bear with me, so that makes everything semi more okay.

The nurse comes back with a load of plastic tubing that's just gut-turning to look at. I point out to the nurse that I've already been punctured in my left arm, indicating the still-fresh poke site. She says we'll just do the right one, then. Okay, still terrifying, but that sounds easy enough. Kendall and Josh are holding onto me, I'm hiding my face in my bear's head, and the nurse starts trying to stick me. This is when possibly the only amusing thing that has ever happened to me in an ER ever, happened. Kendall suggests singing Les Mis. I'm not even really sure how the hell that came up in conversation, but it did. I start launching into - if I may say so of myself - a rather wrenching rendition of "On My Own" from Les Mis. Frankly, I think I make a damn good Eponine when I'm legitimately terrified and in pain. Your real friends are the ones who will do THIS KIND OF SHIT for you.

By the way, that first needle-stick didn't take. She stuck me twice in my right arm and just couldn't get a vein. So she stuck my left forearm. Forearm sticks are particularly nasty because of all the muscle there. You twitch one finger and the needle moves in your arm! Yeah, just really hideous business there. I get a shot of Zofran, this time administered intravenously. They stick my finger as well to take my blood sugar. My blood sugar is 50. Just so you know, you're not supposed to be CONSCIOUS with a blood sugar of 50. I'm just saying. So, the nurse tells Josh (who is in nursing school himself) to come get her when the first liter is through draining.

Waiting game. Honestly, I'm not going to bore you with the details of being in an ER room, waiting for one liter, then another to drain into my arm. Partially, y'all don't want to hear it, and you know what? I don't remember some of it! Mostly, I remember being really cold. Kendall went and got me another of those awesome pre-warmed blankets and has my forever gratitude for this. Well, the second liter went in just like it was supposed to. They gave me another Zofran shot through the port in my arm and stuck my finger again. This time, blood sugar of 90. That's a bit low still, but it's better. At about 4:30, I think, they take the port/IV thing out of my arm and I can put my shirt and jacket back on.

Final note? HOLY SHIT, I HAVE TERRIFIC FRIENDS. This is going to be one of those stories that goes down in the Marigold Archives. That's what I'm going to call it from now on, that collection of wacky and wonderful stories about me and all my friends! If you happen to be around me, you can hear all these stories yourself! Maybe a few of them will make it up here!

Marigold, still on anti-nausea pills, wishing everyone a happy Thursday!

What does a feminist look like?

I found this picture on Tumblr a little while back ago - terribly sorry, but I can't remember the source. It made me think on several things. One, I really need to get that T-shirt from the oh-so-wonderful Feministing.com that says "This is what a feminist looks like." Two, I'd really like to know what the newest bullshit stereotype of what a feminist looks like is - I quit keeping up with that crap. Three, I need to point something out: this picture is entirely right.

Feminists can:

• wear heels
• wear makeup
• have long hair
• paint their nails
• wear dresses/skirts
• Do... things... that girls are "supposed" to do? What are those again?
• I dunno... be scared of frogs?

Or not! 

I really don't subscribe to the whole "a feminist must do X, Y, or Z to be considered a real feminist!" Anytime I see somebody screaming about the "ONE TWUE WAY" to do or be something, at little light turns on in my head that says "Don't take them seriously."

Now, how does one fit this into the nerd scene? Oh! Right! SEXY COSPLAY! I cannot tell you how many times I've been on the receiving end of a tune that goes like this: "My goodness, Marigold! How can you be a feminist and wear that to -insert convention/event here-!?" How about this? I believe feminism is the radical idea that a woman, as a fully-functioning human being, can make her own choices for her own body! You know what that entails? Here's a brief listing:

1. What characters to love and want to cosplay, even if their outfit or one of their outfits is more revealing than someone ELSE deems "appropriate."
2. To choose for HERSELF how much of her body she wishes to expose and to be able to go about that way without being touched/harassed/etc.
3. To dress in a manner as quote-unquote "feminine" or NOT as she pleases because, guess what!? It's HER body and HER business.

We all go to cons for our own reasons. I'm quite sure that "showing off" and "because I freaking want to" and "because I love this character" are legitimate reasons to do a certain cosplay. And that is YOUR business, whatever your gender may be. We'll all get along a little better if we get off each other's backs about the "ONE TWUE WAY" to do things. Oh, and don't get me started again on tearing into each other for perceived "wrongness" in someone else's cosplay. Just stop it.

Marigold, looking forward to the Georgia Renaissance Faire, wishing you a happy Thor's Day!

I'm Back!

I apologize for the unannounced hiatus, but there were some things going on in my life that left me without much time or the whatsis to blog. One, I have school and I had to do stuff for that - I wouldn't be a good person to listen to if I didn't at least sometimes put school first. Two, some stuff was going on that was really making me angry. I don't want this to turn into an angry, ranting blog, and other people were saying more on the subject in better words than I could hope for. Then spring break happened and I wasn't really around the computer all that much - probably all to the good. To sum up the hiatus:

1. School gets in the way of doing fun stuff... but I think I probably have to say "Do it anyway."
2. I stand with Jane Doe in Steubenville (Stupidville), Ohio because there is no excuse for rape.
3. World of pain. Two words: mechanical bull.

Okay, right now, wherever you are reading from, there is something very important going on in the Supreme Court here in America. Marriage equality goes up in an unprecedented set of hearings. In other news, scalpers are selling tickets for gallery seating at upwards of six grand. I'm not going to lie... One, that second part makes me think people kind of suck. Two, I can honestly say I have never been so nervous about anything going on in America's court systems. However, sitting here and worrying isn't going to help anything. All we can do here is love more and hope... And chew the ears off of our representatives letting them know what's what. Find a phone number and start masticating some pinnae...

And... on to the meat of today's subject! Female role models.

This comes from a semi-conversation had in the Barnes & Noble with my brother when he came to visit for part of spring break. The conversation turned to Disney starlets, particularly Vanessa Hudgens and Selena Gomez. I, personally, would like to go on-record and say I'm not really much of a fan, but I'm not going to give anybody else a hard time. The discussion didn't last long, because we got hooked on looking through books of show-tune and Disney sheet music. This morning, though, I woke up thinking about it, especially with what I talked about with my mom over break.

Does anybody remember the Vanessa Hudgens nude picture scandal? Yes? No? Didn't care? Well, I remember Dane Cook's response to that. I'm terribly sorry, but that was funny... Anyway, a bunch of people apparently got all up in arms because of some things that some Disney starlets did. Miley Cyrus had that whole "oh, let's count down to when she's 18 and see what she does" crapstorm. I'm sure there were other issues that I never even had flip across my radar screen. Made me kind of think, though, after that talk with my mom...

Um,  why are we counting on actors and actresses for role models? I do get it - ever since Annette Funicello's days as a Mouseketeer, young ladies working for Disney have had a squeaky-clean image. America's sweetheart and all that mess. Well, I think it's crud. You know what these people are? They're actors. Their job is to get in front of a camera or on a stage and pretend to be stuff. It might be a hooker, it might be an ingenue... Might be a squirrel, for all some directors care! The majority of them, we will never meet or know as people. Why the hell do we want them for role models?

I'm sure some of these actors are awesome people. I'm sure some of them are total jerks. In my mind, that kind of isn't the point. If you are a parent, shouldn't YOU be trying to be a role model for your child? I do get that it's important to be aware of what your children are watching and interacting with, but when "scandals" happen, you know what that is? That's a teaching moment. That's a chance to sit the child down and say "Vanessa Hudgens isn't actually a singing high school student. She's a real person with her own life and the freedom to make her own decisions." Whether or not you agree with what a performer does in their personal life, it's a good chance to explain characters vs. people.

I am not a parent and I never will be, but some things stand out to me. I think that children need real people as role models - preferably, people in their own lives. Me, I look up to my mom and Katie and my brother Jareth and so many other people who are actually AROUND me. People might have a lot less to complain about if we ALL got the character/live person difference through our heads. It is ridiculous to expect Miley Cyrus to behave like her character all the time just like it would be nuts to expect Sir Patrick Stewart to ACTUALLY control people's brains via superpower. Actors are people who happens to live their lives in front of cameras. I mean, that's a whole different can of worms - how much we hear about these people's lives.

My point is that if you want people in your life - your children, your friends, your family, whoever - to have a decent role model, try being one. Try living the way you would like to see other people live. Really examine how much something another person is doing is affecting you specifically - if it's "not at all" or "really not that much" you might want to just let it go. If you have children, teach them yourself. Not "OMG BAN TELEVISION" - actually sit them down and talk to them about what is on the screen. Oh, and my guess would be your average High School Musical-obsessed nine-year-old wouldn't begin to even know that Vanessa Hudgens took some pictures without her clothes on. If they found out, it was probably because some adult freaked out about it.

I'm not even going to go on my whole "It is entirely her business what to do with her body/who to take pictures for/whatever" spiel. Y'all have heard it in various forms already on this blog and Criminal Minds is about to come on. I'll spare you... this time.

Marigold, still in her pajamas after noon, wishing everyone a happy Tuesday with lots of love!