[Miscellany]

I haven't done one of these in a while, an age, an era - whatever, but I happened across a song that made me put my nostalgia hat on.

I'd forgotten about her. It's been a good many years since I stopped and listened. Maybe 5? I don't know. The years have started blurring into each other. I guess I'd forgotten about her in part, because she, at the time of listening to her, brought out a more introspective side of me that I have, lately, tried to muffle (as you do). I can also say with great confidence that she was never a "favourite" or a "must have" on my playlist and easy to forget. But, I do remember a phase I went through where I would only listen to her and in particular this song.

Woodstock - Joni Mitchell

You know it.
If you don't... you should. If you do, chances are you already hate it. I can see how the song would inspire an uneasy feeling. Its anguished and haunting, the vocals jarring and pitched just above the comfort level, half yodeling and backed by a lonely electric piano. It's not an easy listen, or an easy sell for that matter, and yet so many musicians have cited her as an inspiration and this song in particular as poetry. It's probably one of the most amazing pieces of music I've ever heard.

Joni Mitchell never went to Woodstock. She wrote the song after seeing the events unfolding on TV, crying and wishing was there. I love it because the song is bigger than her and bigger than music, bigger than people who made the event happen. It's a representative of something bigger than life even: Collective consciousness, universal truths, spiritual awakening, soul cleansing, hope, modern miracles, wishful thinking, longing - read into it what you will - it all applies. I think it's a powerful representation of the mentality of the era, or perhaps a projected mentality. It doesn't matter, there's a kind of truth to it that goes beyond the words.

I originally found the song sometime in the mid-90s, in an old documentary I've since watched too many times to count Message to Love: The Isle of Wight Festival (1970) in the UK. Joni Mitchell performs the song, amidst angry protests and shouts. The IOWF being, of course, ironically the antithesis to the Woodstock Festival. She tells the crowd to have a little respect, that they are acting like "tourists" and somehow tames them into submission. It's pretty amazing. I was mesmerised by the song and purchased the album soon after seeing her performance.

Something in the lyrics is so powerful to me. I doubt everybody at the end of the hippy decade saw a trip to Woodstock as such a journey into spiritual transcendence, however I know that there were those that did. And I, myself do see music as a spiritual or sacred experience because it gets, like nothing else can, right to the soul. But furthermore and most importantly, something about the song flips a switch in me. I understand it, without actually being able to articulate how. I get its meaning, without thinking about it. I feel it without touching. I knew this song, before I actually heard it. There's not many songs I can say that about. Or any others actually.

It's no mistake I happened upon the song today.
I think it's time to start being more aware of myself again.
...get myself back to the garden, if you will.

Woodstock - Joni Mitchell

Labels: 60s, defining moments in musical history, God, hippies, musical monday, real women

posted by M at 8:32 pm 17 comments

Is Feminism Dead?

It's a question that gets asked every so often, usually on a slow news day, or when a problem comes up that no one has the answer to (I know, let's blame feminism!) or when someone releases a new book on the subject. It's the question that was asked in today's Weekend Australian and the subject debated at tonight's forum From Friedan to Feministas - as part of the Melbourne Writer's Festival.

Is Feminism Dead?

Well, I don't know. I've heard asked so many times over the last 10 years (it's been over 10 years now that the famous article in Time came out) that I have to wonder whether feminism truly has 9 lives? It's dead, then it's alive and kicking and responsible for all the world's ills and then remarkably it's dead again and then...uh oh someone brings up maternity leave in politics and suddenly there it is - feminism - pounding down single buildings with its gigantic (hairy, un-pedicured, lesbian, dirty man-hating - no doubt-) foot and causing all the trouble again. Either it's dead or alive, let's decide on one and leave it at that.

Indeed if we really do pronounce it dead - who the hell killed it?

Was it the Paris Hilton wannabe internet porn stars? Is it the misplaced Spice Girls fans? Is it the "I take pole dancing lessons because it's a great way to keep fit" darlings of the night club scene? Is it the women who don't want to call themselves a feminist because they're "not lesbians and don't hate men" as if asserting somehow that all feminists are this. Is it the deliberate media bashing that feminism garners? Is it single mothers? Happily married mothers who decide not to work? Politicians? Prostitutes? Male opinions on blogs? Is it life after university? Is it the new feminists? Are they too different from the old feminists? What is it that pulled the trigger?

If feminism is dead, what killed it?

At tonight's forum, five women (Emily Maguire, Monica Dux, Catharine Lumby and Susan Maushart) from diverse social, political backgrounds came together to discuss the topic of feminism: Namely - Where are we now? What does it mean for us today? And quite frankly five different and dizzying opinions were put forth. From the rarely discussed silent prejudice against single mothers in the workforce who not only find it difficult in the work force but have also given up their superannuation to look after their children. What happens to them at 65? To "feminism is everywhere" - it's all around us. It's anything but dead - it's alive and kicking. It's still inspiring. It's still happening and though it's more diverse, it's still strong. To an assertion that we should give up the name as it is meaningless and an antagonist for negative opinion. And funnily, though she is often cited as an unrealistic role model - Barbie circa 1963 is the epitome of the modern woman today - bleach blonde, fake tan, fake boobs, brazillian wax, too thin, single and working.

Is feminism dead. Is it too exclusive? Too academic? Too middle class?

One brave woman asked about the elephant in the room. What about the men? Is feminism relevant for them - and if so, how? It was an important question that unfortunately came right at the end. You'd think that yes - considering we're all inextricably engaged - men and women - with each other. Considering men father daughters, marry women, fall in love, care for in a platonic way and all are born from one (and too often, these days anyway - are solely raised by them). Well you think it would be relevant. But is it?

Is feminism dead and buried under the onslaught of differing opinions that never meet in the middle?

It was difficult to keep track of all the opinions and indeed while I was wary of some speakers (Catharine Lumby mostly) by and large there were many opinions from all women on the panel that I agreed with. It really brought home the diversity of the feminist opinion. Is there a unified goal or purpose? Perhaps, no. But does it make it an irrelevant movement that has reached it's end? Judging by the audience (yes there were men, only a few - but they were there) there are many who identify as one, even if we all don't quite agree with their opinions exactly. I think at the heart of it all - feminists are aware that all is not quite right and want to see change that drives our society forward into a more harmonious place. A more equal place. That's the way I read it anyway. Indeed, the way we humans live is not quite right for many people, many groups are marginalised by society - and indeed feminists fight not only for women but for pretty much all the groups that are maginalised because all of them are interconnected in some way with feminism. That's how broad it is.

Is feminism dead? What a hostile question! What a sensationalist question and example of lazy journalism. Like anything else, maybe it depends on who you ask, of course.
I'd like to see more bravery happening from women when it comes to feminism, but does that mean it's dead?

And if it is, what the hell does a girl with a blog and a voice and a job and a brain and who is not going to be duped by public opinion to the contrary about what a feminist is. Who believes that all things are not equal ...yet. Who feels there is room for change for both genders. Who understands that not all choices are created equal and the claim that "everyone has a choice" is one of the biggest myths that pervades our consciousness. If feminism is dead. What does that girl call herself?

Labels: dirty femmo, girls and women, melbourne musings, real women, what men want, what women want

posted by M at 9:01 pm 6 comments

I've watched the show on and off for the last few weeks and it's not bad. Basically How to Look Good Naked takes a new woman every episode who hates her own body (with a gut wrenching passion) and shows her how to love it, just as it is - perhaps with a little bit of frosting by way of a better bra/hair do but essentially without an extreme makeover. Pretty good idea, huh?*

There are so many women who hate their bodies. I have never met one woman in my life who is completely at ease with her body. I don't even know OF any women who are completely at ease with their body actually. I do however know size 6 (I think that's size 0 in the US) women who complain they are fat, who live at the gym, who think their legs are fat. It's wrong. Perhaps one might be more accepting of their own body after years of dieting or after the extreme makeover like you see on the those TV shows but as a whole we women are very good at hating our bodies. I think the stats the show talks about is that 4 out of every 5 American women hate their body and people who we see in magazines are skinnier than 98% of us. It's really no wonder we have a problem with normality when what we compare ourselves to is completely unrealistic?

Know anyone with an eating disorder?
Ever had one yourself?

I'm guessing there would be a lot of yes answers to that - it's sad.

I think the biggest problem with all this is that hating your body means that:
1) you don't get out there and live your life.
2) you are more vulnerable to feeling less worthy than a magazine cover that has been airbrushed.
3) you feel like shit.
If 4 out of 5 women feels like that then wow, how easy would it be to keep us girls down? Pretty fucking easy. It's always easier to make people with low self worth feel even worse about themselves.

Easily my favourite part of the show is when the girl in question is asked to slot herself into a line of near naked ladies - in accordance to the size she thinks she is. Every woman's self image so far has been of herself being larger than she is. They slot themselves into the larger side. That says a lot about self perception.



Even if the girls were being modest during this and don't see themselves as large (even though they put themselves down the larger end of the line) it says a lot about how we women represent and view ourselves. If 4 out of every 5 women feel like crap because they're not good enough for some reason or another then 4 out of every 5 women are not big noting themselves, even when they do deserve it. I'm reminded of this:

Research in Linda Babcock’s 2004 book Women Don’t Ask: Negotiation and the Gender Divide, found that 93 per cent of female graduates from a US university simply accepted the starting salaries they were offered in their first job, while more than half of the male graduates tried to negotiate up.

Is it any wonder this happens? 4 out of 5 women can't even look at themselves in the mirror, do you really think these same women are going to ask for a pay rise? Um, no. I'm not saying this is all due to hating our bodies but I do think that yes, it's all tied in with a greater feeling of unworthiness for us. Who knows where it really comes from originally (do we go back to Eve?), and who knows why we willingly adhere to it so readily by buying into the beauty myth time and again but yes, it exists, yes it's very real, yes it affects our everyday lives.

Probably though the biggest question I have coming out of the show How to Look Good Naked though is why it takes a gay man to tell us women to love ourselves? You'd think a woman would be willing to tell us because we should love ourselves, or perhaps the straight men who are supposed to love us for who we are could let us know. No? Not going to happen any time soon huh? Interesting.

In the meanwhile - while we all scramble to get our acts together. Thank you, Carson (and Gok Wan - also openly gay and hosted the original series) <3


* Honestly I've heard some people argue that this kind of show is horrible simply because we shouldn't let people believe that they are beautiful when they so obviously are not (ie: they are too fat and since fat is not beautiful by society's standrads then they shouldn't be allowed to love themselves because if they loved themselves then they wouldn't lose weight). This kind of argument disgusts me to no end.

On to music - Their first album Lesser Matters has been on constant rotation in my car over the last few weeks. I can't tell you how much I am loving this band lately. This song is particular makes me want to run through a valley of golden wild flowers for some reason. I have strange fantasies.

Where Damage Isn't Already Done - The Radio Dept.

Labels: bodies, crap reality tele, dirty femmo, messy women, questions, real women, the price of beauty, TV, women, wonderings

posted by M at 10:09 pm 16 comments

Being a non-babied up person living in a world where it seems like everyone has spawned has afforded me the opportunity to observe things without being too emotionally involved. I have my pet peeves with how mums and dads behave just like I have my pet peeves by how ordinary everyday people behave. In fact, one might argue that I have a lot of pet peeves. Oh well, I'm peevey - you really got a problem with that?

A little issue has arisen lately in baby-land and I have to say, it's given me more peeves than ever thought possible. I'm talking about how people react to the weight of babies. Now I realise that weight is probably the most important way that one can distinguish how healthy a baby is but I'm not talking about that. It's the language that people use.

My friend S's little miracle (really, he actually is - spend first couple of months at the Children's hospital and really was touch and go for a while there) has been growing in leaps and bounds since he was released from the hospital. Really he is one of the cutest babies in the world. He's one of those babies that strangers will boldly approach and want to hold. Things started off a little rough for the poor guy but now he's doing well. In fact when people see him how they ALWAYS comment about what a big boy he is, and how chubby he is getting and ...hey maybe mum should be putting him on a little feeding restriction. The thing is little N is not like those big babies you see on Phil Donohue where the baby is actually half the size of mum at 1 year of age and looks basically like an adult in diapers (though, I might be confusing this with a whoooole other episode of Donohue). Little N is in fact precisely in the 50th percentile for his weight. He's the epitome of normality. He's not 1 percent below or above he's just right. Meanwhile mothers of babies born on the 15th percentile are commenting about what a chubbster N is - not in a nice way either - in an I'm slightly worried about your baby way - patronising, utterly patronising. Like as if being born thin and still thin is somehow better than than being normal and healthy.

The reason why it's a peeve of mine is that I can see where this is leading. We already have this preoccupation with children's weight and the so-called obesity crisis in children. I wish I could link to an entry that "pubby" wrote about this issue but he's taken his blog offline - but he also asked whether these figures were sincere because he hadn't noticed that suddenly all these kids were supposedly fat. I work with kids. I see kids everyday and there is probably 1 per class who is overweight. IF THAT. I don't have any this year at all. In fact I'm looking at all the children I know who started school this year and there is not ONE who would even be considered chubby - that's almost 100 new children! Figures point to something like 40% of children being fat but from what I've seen it's actually about 5% which is called a NORMAL DISTRIBUTION of fat folks. Maybe it's 10% in some areas...yes, more concerning but still, hardly an epidemic! I don't know if figures are being inflated or whether the way we measure fat is right off the scale (pun intended) but if it's an epidemic then I don't bloody see it at all.

The point is the weight obsession starts with babies. All these mothers (let's face it, mostly mums) are obsessed with talking about the weight of their own children but not only that, I sense some smugness and defensiveness about weight, depending on where on the percentile the baby falls. Once I commented on how F's baby J had grown into a big boy. I hadn't seen him in about 3 months and he was like a new child. So what, he got big! Big deal, it's great, it's called growing. But I got flicked with the end of the wrath stick quick smart by F who snapped that actually he's only on the 30th percentile now and not big at all. Ohhhhh kay, sorry didn't think I was suggesting that your baby was a sumo wrestler but hey, whatever.

Incidentally why is it so wrong to say that a female baby is a "big strong girl". Ever try saying that one? It's like you're saying "hey I've just noticed that your daughter is a big fat dyke. I can see that she's a breath away from letting her body hair get to unflattering lengths and start listening to angry girl rock" I thought, growing was supposed to be a good thing! Maybe not in girls.

In other news concerning dirty femmo stuff, I was intrigued by a column in Sunday's Age by Angela Pippos "What's Wrong with Being a Fashionista Feminist Anyway?" where she addresses just how diverse feminists are in this era. She also says

I'm a feminist. Was that so hard?
It's really not a big deal. I simply believe that women should be given the same opportunities as men. Throw me in in the river and see if I float. It's hardly radical but, in my experience, any mention of the "f" word in male company can bring on a type of behaviour often seen in a David Attenborough documentary, followed by a sudden attack of mundane questioning".

She goes on to list a few examples of questioning she is immediately dealt by affronted men "Do you expect men to open doors for you?" "Do you want a man to pay for dinner on a first date?" etc. You know the typical questions asked of femnos that makes everyone want to stab their eyes out. What really interests me about her column is the underlying question for me about feminism. Why is it still a dirty word? Yes, I'm being serious. In all my years of being a feminist I've never met one who hates men. I've never met one who burns her bra. I've never met one who spends all night planing to picket the local men's club or any of the other stereotypes that are prescribed to so called ..here is comes "feminazis". Do I know lesbian femmos? Of course. Does that mean ALL feminists are gay? Do I know femmos who are frustrated by the status quo and frustrated by some perceptions perpetrated by men. Hell yes, does that mean that they are frustrated with men in general? Pssssh, I don't think so. I hate that type of generalising of feminists that happens but actually has little grounds in reality.

I don't know about you but when I hear the old "you're a man hater" (often comes in a feminist type entry) and it's been written here on this journal as well me reading it on so many other feminist blogs that I've lost count - I often think that the person writing it either has shit for brains, doesn't actually KNOW any feminists or rather...doesn't KNOW any women AT ALL or that maybe..just maybe THEY don't really like women all that much themselves, or feel threatened by them expressing an opinion - whatever. The fact that I *am* a feminist and I don't actually know ANY feminists who hate men NOR do I hate them myself sort of makes me wonder why on earth that's a phrase that is so easily thrown around by others when confronted with someone who claims to be a feminist? I mean I always hear about these so-called feminists who are supposed to hate men, usually it comes in the form of "yeah I know a feminist who hates men" but you know..it's sort of like an urban myth to me. Have you heard the one about the lady with the boil on her face that exploded and 50 tiny spiders came out? Yeah, that common. If anything feminists have so much problem in appearing a unified group with unifying beliefs in the first place that *men* aren't even the issue. It's women and what women think that is more of an issue.

Perhaps it's that feminist discourse is centered around the fact that things are not quite right in the world of woman. That there are certain issues that affect our gender and those issues maybe be life threatening or indeed socially confining to women. Maybe there's some resentment too, that women get the focus for this type of discourse? The fact that they are discussed might be a little too confronting for some people and confused with hate - when really it's not about hate at all, it's about getting answers and asking WHY does this happen to women? Is that a wrong question to ask? I certainly don't think so. It does NOT negate the FACT that things happen to men too and that is an important point. That in fact we are all individuals who have shit happen to us at some stage or another and that there are issues for men that are just as concerning that in fact SHOULD be discussed too. They should be discussed by the same people that are complaining that are sick of hearing about women's issues and say that yeah, men have issues too can't you see that? Well, dude, discuss away! Indeed, asking why the world is a certain way is not about hating anyone. It's about trying to get answers about how things are and perhaps start discourse that will affect change. One can only hope anyway.

I know that discussions about rape, prostitution, maternity leave and domestic violence gets a lot of backs up, especially with men but the fact of the matter is that these things DO happen and they DO happen mostly to women and the fact that we make up more than half the population means that it's something that everyone should be worried about. These are things that SHOULD be discussed widely and without refrain. It happens and the fact that it happens disturbingly often to one gender over another is a cause for feminist discourse. Live with it! I've read so many "anti-feminist" blogs (mostly written by anonymous people with anonymous comments - just goes to show doesn't it?) that will reference one article where a woman has beaten her husband in a show of domestic violence. Yes it happens and this is horrible. I don't want to diminish that - but the anti-feminist blogger will then say (and this happens in almost 100 percent of all anti-feminist bloggers) something along the lines of "and now you see why I refuse to get involved with all women. Women are evil etc etc". This is in direct opposition to most feminist blogs which takes issue on women's issues in society and how that affects us and in fact are a celebration of female achievement in the arts and culture. They are positive places that actually reserve any condensation of men to specific examples ie: THIS MAN said something not quite right about women. THIS MAN is wrong. Whereas the anti-feminist blogs that I've read are all about generalising one act to mean *all* women and being defensive about it too. Perhaps I've yet to come across a anti-feminist blog that is about being male positive instead of female negative. I'm know that there are some feminist blogs that really ARE venomous about a lot of things too, including men but definitely not the popular ones. The popular feminist blogs are generally very political places that invite discussion by men and indeed a lot of them have a dedicated male following too.

For the record I have read many male written gender positive blogs that have nothing to do with anti-feminism - they don't shy away from bringing up issues that are specific to men either! They are great and there should be more of them. They write about male and female issues with sex, violence and everything in between and they are so great because they don't fall into that age old trap of 'what I admire about women is their breasts, bum, legs, they look beautiful, they smell beautiful' - which is quite typical in what DOES tend to get written about women from a male perspective. I mean that kind of blog is great and all but male blogs that go beyond that REALLY need to be applauded for being so great - and they're not great because I agree with them, because I don't always, they're great because they are truthful without falling into "all feminists are bitches" type rhetoric.

Considering that not all feminists are the same, nor do any of the old stereotypes stand up why is it that the F-word is still a dirty one?

Anyway, on to Musical Monday in this haphazard post of mine. Of course, let's just complete the entry with a reference to Kat Bjelland; an artist I'm pretty much so in awe of I can't quite figure out the right words. She looks like an angel but has the voice of a terrifying demon. That's the best I can come up with. In the early days she cavorted around with Courtney Love and Jennifer Finch experimenting in a couple of bands before all went their separate ways and all became highly influential artists in their own right, with their own bands. I sigh here as I make the distinction and say they were 'female centered' bands - grrl rock if you will. Why? Oh because I've featured many, many bands who have all male members and sing about manly things but never distinguished them by saying 'all male' or 'male centered'. It's funny how these distinctions work in rock for women as opposed to men but there you have it.

Babes in Toyland had been around for a good many years before I got into them. I was completely taken with Kat Bjelland and in particular her rock operatic meets screaming banshee type singing voice.

She was a cheerleader in high school by the way.

A cheerleader AND a dirty femmo too. Oh my god, is your mind about to explode? Yes, it's true, us dirty femmos aren't just one type of person. I guess, that was my whole point. Mother's can be feminists. Hot girls can be feminists. Women who love men can be feminists. Scientists can be feminists. Radio personalities can be feminists. Men can be feminists. Cheerleaders can be feminists. It's not just one type of person. And for the record I've read many a comment implying that those people mentioned above CAN'T be feminists - like mum's can't be feminists. ha! Well I'm linking right here to a GREAT entry by a femmo mum who outlines some great points about how to raise your daughter a feminist and you know what? The initial question about 'how do I raise my daughter a feminist?' came from a bloke. How's that for breaking down a few barriers. Yes folks, it's not actually about man hating. Sorry to disappoint - on with the music.

Bruise Violet - Babes In Toyland (apparently not about Courtney Love..but I doubt it! lol).



Sweet 69 - Babes in Toyland

Labels: babies, dirty femmo, girls and women, messy women, musical monday, real women, vicious women, what women want, why, why do people get so touchy when it comes to talking about these things?, women

posted by M at 4:45 pm 23 comments

The first thing you see is blue on blue. A cloudless sky resting atop a line of deep indigo on the horizon. The sun is already burning a red line across your bare skin; where you couldn't quite reach to put the sunscreen properly. A thin film of sweat collects at the nape of your neck. You breathe in the waves and swat at the flies before making your way down the hill to the sand. Do you want an ice-cream now or later? your companion muses while looking hungrily at the van. Can't we do both? you laugh back.

The bathing boxes are lined up like soldiers at the ready for a gay mardi gras parade. You can hear the delighted squeals of small children no doubt wearing hats that are much too big and being taunted by splashes of water. This makes you smile as you remember countless summers spent by the water. Your mind goes back in time almost 20 years to your dad dripping freezing cold water onto your back while you sunbaked, purposely trying to annoy you. These memories make you smile now. They didn't back then.

You hoist the umbrella up under your arm with effort (everything takes effort on a day already hitting 30 degrees before 10am) and take those first tentative steps across the hot sand. A scratchy towel, under the other arm is already throwing you off balance and you falter a little, tipping dangerously to one side. Walking on sand involves feeling like one is temporarily drunk. Finding the right spot is an art. Private but close to the water, sandy but not shelly, away from the freaks playing with a ball (who ARE these people that do this?) and enough room to have a conversation without being overheard.

With the umbrella erected and tilted, the picnic rug spread and the towels positioned just right you peel back your clothes and sigh backwards onto your towel. "A" pulls back the lid on a container to reveal a bunch of crispy green grapes, nectarines, watermelon and ripe strawberries. You take a strawberry and enjoy its sweet coolness across your lips. A perfect beach breakfast. You smile, engaging in a cheerful conversation that soon dies away as the sun sends you both into drowsy silence.

You close your eyes and hear the sounds of the beach all around you. Cheery laughter, sunscreen bottles clicking closed, a shuffling of feet close by, occasional outbursts of loud laughter and the heavy splashes of people frolicking in the waves. You open one eye and peer at the middle aged Greek ladies proudly displaying their slight ponches and legs complete with a touch of cellulite. They laugh and recount stories in their own language while sunning themselves. You notice they're set up for the whole day. Food, and drinks, books and sunscreen - everything a close knit group of friends will need. You know they won't hit the books, they've got too much to talk about. You grin to yourself. You much prefer these real creatures of life and laughter to the gaggle of silent but deadly young things further down who look like they've had one too many days in the sun and are much too conscious of looking the part of the beach-goer. Give it a rest girls, this ain't LA you think.

The best part of the afternoon ticks by as you doze, and talk and imagine and sigh. The water feels like a silky awakening and you are christened by a new feeling of contentment. Hallelujah! And under you go again.

By the time you both pack away the makeshift picnic the beach dwellers have tripled. The sand is a patchwork of gaudy tends and Pisa tilted umbrellas. Making your way back to the car is always a challenge with your head weighted with daydreams as it is today. You smell a little bit like cocoa butter and sunscreen, ice-cream and sand all mixed together with a pinch of salt. It's a nice smell. You smell like summer.

Labels: breakfast, endless summer lift the curse, friends, holiday, lazy holiday, peaceful, real women

posted by M at 8:58 pm 17 comments