Loved this debut Jezebel post by my friend Lane Moore: "The Emotional Cost of Girl Scout Cookies"
A Florida woman is currently in jail on charges of beating up her roommate over a dispute surrounding the theft of her precious Thin Mint collection. To make matters worse, Hersha Howard, 31, not only burst into her roommate's room to accuse her of the grave injustice, Howard hit her in the face, chased her with scissors, struck her with a board of some kind, BIT HER IN THE BREAST, and then hit her with a random sign she found outside. Then, presumably, she sat down and enjoyed those sweet, sweet cookies.
Can you blame her? There's only one Girl Scout cookie SEASON!
And on the food porn front, check out all the Cupcakes Take the Cake postings about Girl Scout cookie cupcakes!
Showing posts with label Jezebel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jezebel. Show all posts
Food bloggers are fat sloths, film at 11
The controversy over the Marie Claire "fatties" piece by blogger Maura Kelly regarding the new TV show Mike & Molly has garnered a lot of responses. I can't tackle them all, but I did want to look at this HyperboleMan comment at Jezebel that took the discussion to a whole new level, namely calling food bloggers and people who pay attention to food "fat:"
If you're going to take pictures of your food and tweet them, and you're going to check in on 4square where you're eating... and you start to get a gut. Don't act like being fat is a part of your personality that we can't offend. You being fat is actually because you choose to live a decadent lifestyle.
I'm many things, and one of them is a food blogger. A cupcake blogger, in fact, a food that I freely admit is not vital or even helpful at the level of food we need to eat to survive. Cupcakes are delicious treats and something that I've learned in the past almost six years something a lot of people are interested in.
Through my cupcake blogging, I won't say I've become a "foodie" in the traditional definition of that word, but I do, yes, Tweet and blog and post photos of my food on Flickr. I check in on Foursquare at restaurants and leave my share of Yelp reviews. I also have a complicated history with food.
I became a vegetarian around age 12, and vegan soon thereafter. This was back in the late eighties and early nineties, when people didn't even know how to pronounce "vegan," let alone what it meant. Some people did, but it was far from the everyday word it is these days. There weren't, to my recollection, vegan celebrities on the same level as, say, Ellen DeGeneres or Alicia Silverstone, save for River Phoenix (RIP).
I was extremely committed to what I saw as a major injustice in the world. I spent my free time, when I wasn't pursuing nerdly pursuits like chess tournaments, working with my local animal rights group. I attended protests, including doing civil disobedience at the annual pigeon shoot in Hegins, Pennsylvania. It didn't cross my mind that I would ever eat meat again; I was somewhat of a junk food vegan, loving the potato chips at my health food store, ordering brownies made with turbinado sugar and the like.
Then I moved to Berkeley, California for college and was immersed in an even more ardent animal rights culture than I had once been. The summer between high school and college I was 17, interning at an animal rights group in Maryland. I was also paying increasing attention to what was on the scale, and I hated what I saw. I wanted those numbers to go down, and I made them, pound by pound, by basically eating as little as I could. I was also flirting with the 31-year-old man I'd lose my virginity to a few months later. I remember once digging in to, I think, hummus, and he said, "I love a woman who know show to eat." But that didn't stop me from my quest to keep losing weight. I did, and then I moved on to learning how to make myself puke.
It was a power trip, in its way, but one whose high only lasted for those moments when I thought I was getting away with this magical act. Eat what you want, then get rid of it, with only a little bit of effort and gagging. I don't know how it is for anyone else, but for me, making myself puke never felt the way puking for other reasons feels. I don't do it very often these days (puke involuntarily, and, actually, puke at all), but when I am either sick or used to drink and needed to throw up, it was one of those unstoppable things. My body didn't care if I was near a toilet or sink or anything; when it had to happen, it did. Actually, now I remember, I started 2010 by puking all over my subway stop, just after stepping off the train. I had a crazy killer headache that wouldn't go away no matter how much I tried to shield my eyes from the light, and somehow made it there and then, though I knew it was totally gross and I probably looked like yet another drunk partygoer, I didn't care, I just wanted to stop feeling so damn queasy. I felt lightheaded after but also lighter, in a good way. I felt like I'd gotten rid of whatever was poisoning me.
I never felt like that when I was making myself throw up (which mostly happened during college, but here and there afterwards). It was a struggle, between myself and myself. It brought tears to my eyes, it felt gross, and it was never enough; there was never that pure satisfaction of puking and then being done with it. It hurt. Yet it felt like this mastery of something tricky I had solved, some puzzle that I was privileged enough to have unlocked.
I digress from the topic of food blogging because this all relates to my relationship with food now. I started eating chicken, little by little, and then that became my gateway carnivorousness, because I was craving it. After all the drama with my body and starving and bingeing and purging, I just could not let myself categorically deny myself any foods.
And now I am part of the food blogging community. I rarely don't take photos of my food, and while I don't officially blog beyond Cupcakes Take the Cake, I do read food blogs, food news, and I look at hundreds of cupcake photos each week as part of my blogging. It's not so much a ritual of honoring my food, though I try to do that at least part of the time, though I still have my weaknesses, my moments when I'm shoveling food into my mouth so fast I can't possibly taste it, when I stick my finger directly into the hummus because I can't spare those precious moments to find a utensil and, more importantly, don't want to. I like that animalistic urgency of letting myself be, for a few moments, out of control.
I'm not going to pretend I no longer have "food issues" or "body issues." I certainly do, but sortof like how I've come to see the eating of animals, I don't think it's an all or nothing issue. I try not to eat meat every day, or with every meal, and I try, for the most part, to eat fruits and vegetables, to not waste calories on alcohol, to not eat pizza at two in the morning. The biggest challenge to me as an eater, though, is to eat when I'm actually hungry, to use food to satisfy my body's actual needs, rather than my mind's or my heart's. Last night my stomach hurt and I thought eating would help, and while I was craving salt, probably because I was just about to get my period, I skipped the small bag of salt and pepper potato chips and the Little Lad's popcorn I love (and that my 24-hour deli guy knows I love) for the "healthier" popcorn, which tastes way less salty. Which might be why I shoved about 5/6 of the bag into my mouth trying to find the salt, waiting for it to take effect like some magic pill.
I don't write or talk much about my "eating issues," as I call them because the big words, the a word and the b word (anorexia and bulimia, if that was too subtle), feel, while semi-accurate, a little too dramatic. They were accurate descriptions of me at the time but that was over a decade ago, and I wouldn't say I'm a "recovering" anorexic or bulimic. I'm a 34-year-old white woman who's 5'3" and doesn't know how much she weighs, though it's probably somewhere around 150 (or was last time I weighed myself). I like food, and don't cool hardly ever.
I don't want this post at all to be read as "I'm different from the fat people HyperboleMan is disdaining." I'm not. I do want it to be different from his fatphobia, but mainly I want to point out that, yes, some food bloggers, and I know I'm not the only one, have food issues. To think that we'd all have "perfect" relationships with food is utterly unrealistic, because how many people in general do?
I'll leave you with this excellent post from Oh She Glows called "Food Blogs Changed My World." While I don't take the exact same approach as her, I think her story will be familiar to many people:
In the past, food and eating wasn’t what I called fun. It was associated with so many other emotions that my actual, physical experience with food was stolen from me. I never really had the satisfaction of preparing a new recipes with new foods and enjoying the results. I didn’t think of food in that type of way before.
For me food blogs have opened my eyes to an exciting world where food and health is fun again.
Bottom line, though, why is there so much judgment, about both other people's size and other people's approach to food? So much hatred is disguised in the form of "concern" over health, yet that mock concern is truly obscured by the hatred that is dripping over, under and all around it. It's also remarkably not helpful, if the goal really is to help spread a message of "health," to ignore mental health and to assume that people who are fat (or, let's face it, "fat," because that word is so subjective and gets thrown around a lot, including by me, to describe ourselves) have never heard of fruits and vegetables. Go read the original Jezebel post I linked to - while nobody needs to justify their weight to anyone but themselves (or perhaps their doctor if it's been brought up as a concern), plenty of people there have, pointing out many reasons beyond diet why they've reached the size they have.
I also think this anti-Foursquare, anti-social media, anti-food photo sentiment is part of a disturbing trend of "I don't like what you're doing on the internet, therefore you shouldn't do it" mindset. If there is anywhere that should be totally opt-in, it's the internet, where literally anyone can start a blog, Twitter account, etc. Unless it's something you have to read for school or a job, you do not have to look at it, shocking as that may be to some.
Okay, rant over.
If you're going to take pictures of your food and tweet them, and you're going to check in on 4square where you're eating... and you start to get a gut. Don't act like being fat is a part of your personality that we can't offend. You being fat is actually because you choose to live a decadent lifestyle.
I'm many things, and one of them is a food blogger. A cupcake blogger, in fact, a food that I freely admit is not vital or even helpful at the level of food we need to eat to survive. Cupcakes are delicious treats and something that I've learned in the past almost six years something a lot of people are interested in.
Through my cupcake blogging, I won't say I've become a "foodie" in the traditional definition of that word, but I do, yes, Tweet and blog and post photos of my food on Flickr. I check in on Foursquare at restaurants and leave my share of Yelp reviews. I also have a complicated history with food.
I became a vegetarian around age 12, and vegan soon thereafter. This was back in the late eighties and early nineties, when people didn't even know how to pronounce "vegan," let alone what it meant. Some people did, but it was far from the everyday word it is these days. There weren't, to my recollection, vegan celebrities on the same level as, say, Ellen DeGeneres or Alicia Silverstone, save for River Phoenix (RIP).
I was extremely committed to what I saw as a major injustice in the world. I spent my free time, when I wasn't pursuing nerdly pursuits like chess tournaments, working with my local animal rights group. I attended protests, including doing civil disobedience at the annual pigeon shoot in Hegins, Pennsylvania. It didn't cross my mind that I would ever eat meat again; I was somewhat of a junk food vegan, loving the potato chips at my health food store, ordering brownies made with turbinado sugar and the like.
Then I moved to Berkeley, California for college and was immersed in an even more ardent animal rights culture than I had once been. The summer between high school and college I was 17, interning at an animal rights group in Maryland. I was also paying increasing attention to what was on the scale, and I hated what I saw. I wanted those numbers to go down, and I made them, pound by pound, by basically eating as little as I could. I was also flirting with the 31-year-old man I'd lose my virginity to a few months later. I remember once digging in to, I think, hummus, and he said, "I love a woman who know show to eat." But that didn't stop me from my quest to keep losing weight. I did, and then I moved on to learning how to make myself puke.
It was a power trip, in its way, but one whose high only lasted for those moments when I thought I was getting away with this magical act. Eat what you want, then get rid of it, with only a little bit of effort and gagging. I don't know how it is for anyone else, but for me, making myself puke never felt the way puking for other reasons feels. I don't do it very often these days (puke involuntarily, and, actually, puke at all), but when I am either sick or used to drink and needed to throw up, it was one of those unstoppable things. My body didn't care if I was near a toilet or sink or anything; when it had to happen, it did. Actually, now I remember, I started 2010 by puking all over my subway stop, just after stepping off the train. I had a crazy killer headache that wouldn't go away no matter how much I tried to shield my eyes from the light, and somehow made it there and then, though I knew it was totally gross and I probably looked like yet another drunk partygoer, I didn't care, I just wanted to stop feeling so damn queasy. I felt lightheaded after but also lighter, in a good way. I felt like I'd gotten rid of whatever was poisoning me.
I never felt like that when I was making myself throw up (which mostly happened during college, but here and there afterwards). It was a struggle, between myself and myself. It brought tears to my eyes, it felt gross, and it was never enough; there was never that pure satisfaction of puking and then being done with it. It hurt. Yet it felt like this mastery of something tricky I had solved, some puzzle that I was privileged enough to have unlocked.
I digress from the topic of food blogging because this all relates to my relationship with food now. I started eating chicken, little by little, and then that became my gateway carnivorousness, because I was craving it. After all the drama with my body and starving and bingeing and purging, I just could not let myself categorically deny myself any foods.
And now I am part of the food blogging community. I rarely don't take photos of my food, and while I don't officially blog beyond Cupcakes Take the Cake, I do read food blogs, food news, and I look at hundreds of cupcake photos each week as part of my blogging. It's not so much a ritual of honoring my food, though I try to do that at least part of the time, though I still have my weaknesses, my moments when I'm shoveling food into my mouth so fast I can't possibly taste it, when I stick my finger directly into the hummus because I can't spare those precious moments to find a utensil and, more importantly, don't want to. I like that animalistic urgency of letting myself be, for a few moments, out of control.
I'm not going to pretend I no longer have "food issues" or "body issues." I certainly do, but sortof like how I've come to see the eating of animals, I don't think it's an all or nothing issue. I try not to eat meat every day, or with every meal, and I try, for the most part, to eat fruits and vegetables, to not waste calories on alcohol, to not eat pizza at two in the morning. The biggest challenge to me as an eater, though, is to eat when I'm actually hungry, to use food to satisfy my body's actual needs, rather than my mind's or my heart's. Last night my stomach hurt and I thought eating would help, and while I was craving salt, probably because I was just about to get my period, I skipped the small bag of salt and pepper potato chips and the Little Lad's popcorn I love (and that my 24-hour deli guy knows I love) for the "healthier" popcorn, which tastes way less salty. Which might be why I shoved about 5/6 of the bag into my mouth trying to find the salt, waiting for it to take effect like some magic pill.
I don't write or talk much about my "eating issues," as I call them because the big words, the a word and the b word (anorexia and bulimia, if that was too subtle), feel, while semi-accurate, a little too dramatic. They were accurate descriptions of me at the time but that was over a decade ago, and I wouldn't say I'm a "recovering" anorexic or bulimic. I'm a 34-year-old white woman who's 5'3" and doesn't know how much she weighs, though it's probably somewhere around 150 (or was last time I weighed myself). I like food, and don't cool hardly ever.
I don't want this post at all to be read as "I'm different from the fat people HyperboleMan is disdaining." I'm not. I do want it to be different from his fatphobia, but mainly I want to point out that, yes, some food bloggers, and I know I'm not the only one, have food issues. To think that we'd all have "perfect" relationships with food is utterly unrealistic, because how many people in general do?
I'll leave you with this excellent post from Oh She Glows called "Food Blogs Changed My World." While I don't take the exact same approach as her, I think her story will be familiar to many people:
In the past, food and eating wasn’t what I called fun. It was associated with so many other emotions that my actual, physical experience with food was stolen from me. I never really had the satisfaction of preparing a new recipes with new foods and enjoying the results. I didn’t think of food in that type of way before.
For me food blogs have opened my eyes to an exciting world where food and health is fun again.
Bottom line, though, why is there so much judgment, about both other people's size and other people's approach to food? So much hatred is disguised in the form of "concern" over health, yet that mock concern is truly obscured by the hatred that is dripping over, under and all around it. It's also remarkably not helpful, if the goal really is to help spread a message of "health," to ignore mental health and to assume that people who are fat (or, let's face it, "fat," because that word is so subjective and gets thrown around a lot, including by me, to describe ourselves) have never heard of fruits and vegetables. Go read the original Jezebel post I linked to - while nobody needs to justify their weight to anyone but themselves (or perhaps their doctor if it's been brought up as a concern), plenty of people there have, pointing out many reasons beyond diet why they've reached the size they have.
I also think this anti-Foursquare, anti-social media, anti-food photo sentiment is part of a disturbing trend of "I don't like what you're doing on the internet, therefore you shouldn't do it" mindset. If there is anywhere that should be totally opt-in, it's the internet, where literally anyone can start a blog, Twitter account, etc. Unless it's something you have to read for school or a job, you do not have to look at it, shocking as that may be to some.
Okay, rant over.
Labels:
bulimia,
eating disorder,
fat,
food blog,
food blogs,
Jezebel,
Maura Kelly,
Oh She Glows,
Rachel Kramer Bussel,
vegan
Fucking: What's feminism got to do with it?
I tried to write this last night and was so addled from doing the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer I could barely think, so here's what I've got so far, I hope to add to this, and apologies if it's a bit disjointed, but I wanted to get this up while it's still timely.
This is going to start with four cliched words: I'm a feminist but...I don't think feminism and fucking are quite as intertwined as they are sometimes tagged as being. That is not to say I think they're unrelated, but there is not always an obvious connection, and that's a good thing.
What do I mean? Well, let's look at Karen Owen and the Duke Fuck List. Much of the discussion about the list asked the question of whether what she wrote was an example of "feminist empowerment." But that idea in itself almost mocks feminism, because it means that anything a woman does is automatically assumed to be speaking for all women and having some grand meaning rather than an individual one.
Jasper Hamill wrote in Scotland's The Herald:
No-one admires the misogynistic way sports teams objectify women, so why on earth would we admire the same thing flipped on its head?
Why does that question automatically have to be asked? Why does every woman, whether or not she's a feminist, have to be a stand-in for all women and all of feminism? Isn't that just another version of putting women on a pedestal, except this time it's a feminist one?
Witness Catherine Cai in The Emery Wheel:
But to call Owen a feminist hero would be a disgusting misinterpretation of the events. By assigning worth to individuals based on appearances and sexual performances, she’s only reversing the roles, not doing away with them. In the end, Owen is not empowering women, but simply subscribing to the same patriarchal system that feminists have fought against for decades, one that insists on a dominant party and a subordinate party.
Feminism is also not about women’s domination over men, power plays, reversing the tables or spite. That counterproductive approach is what gave rise to such negative terms as “feminazi” and “manhater,” which, at the end of the day, only detract from the movement. Feminism should be about women’s self empowerment — a simple and worthy goal that’s too often lost in translation.
I think to take something that was never intended to be shown publicly (unless that is all a ruse and it was a wonderful media ploy, but I don't believe that) and try to assign some grander meaning on Owen's part is problematic, to say the least. Whether or not it was empowering for Owen is a different question from whether or not the list's public spectacle is "empowering" for all women. This is the same question that came up ad nauseam about Sex and the City, though there it was slightly more valid, as that was a television show aimed at the public, but still, it was never allowed to just be entertainment, and Samantha Jones was repeatedly held up as a negative example of "sexual empowerment." But was she trying to be a feminist heroine (or hero) or, like Owen, perhaps, just herself? Do we need to hold up every promiscuous woman as the "new" feminist icon?
This is not 1994, and we have moved on from the Tad Friend-coined term "do me feminism," though there are still plenty of feminist sex activists, women who are starting sex toy stores, sharing information, providing options.
The problem becomes when we start to make judgments against women like Owen because we don't want her to be held up as an icon. "That's fine for her, but..."
Tom Leonard in the Daily Mail, to my mind, misread the original Jezebel post when he wrote:
Meanwhile, critics are particularly offended that she is being held up as a champion of female sexuality and empowerment. Feminist icon status beckons.
Two websites that printed her ‘thesis’ claim they have been approached by the William Morris talent agency, the publisher HarperCollins and a film company, desperate to get hold of Owen to discuss book or film deals.
An editor at HarperCollins was quoted as speaking about the student’s ‘sense of self-empowerment’.
The women’s website Jezebel proclaimed: ‘Here’s another reminder that women can be as aggressive, or acquisitive, about sex as men can. And there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as all parties are consenting.’
I think this is the same reason that a lot of women, myself included, have struggled with our own masochism and kinkiness, especially when our play partners are men, because that seems to smack of some kind of antifeminist imagery. In other words, how can you be a feminist and like: to get tied up, verbally degraded, choked, spanked, exposed, etc., by a man? Those kinks are held up as examples that we often internalize about how we are supposed to behave, and rarely does the female dominant/male submissive get mentioned.
When I've edited the Best Sex Writing series, I get a disproportionate number of essays from feminist submissives grappling with how feminism and submission fit together. It's not that this is not a worthwhile topic to write about or consider, but the fact that we belabor it to such a degree means that we do think, on some level, that our individual actions need to be held up as some sort of heroic feminist acts, and that's where I think we've taken the political too far.
I also think that while of course the personal is political, that doesn't mean that everything about an individual's sex life can be reduced to politics. For example...I have trouble orgasming. I'm one of the women that new national sex survey is talking about (not literally, as I wasn't surveyed, but in general), but whenever I see that reduced to a "problem" or called anti-feminist, it makes me feel like there is something personally defective about me.
Perhaps the larger question is: does everything a feminist does have to be "feminist" or can it just be something she does? Because we are never all going to agree on what a proper feminist sex act is, in part because I don't think there can be such a definition. It's like we're being goaded to hold up Owen as a hero or dismiss her as a whore, and I would hope that we could recognize that people do not so easily fit into extremes, and that sex, of all things, is more complicated than that.
I think Megan Carpentier at Jezebel is dead right that women are told:
Don't watch porn, don't give blow jobs, don't go home with just anyone, don't give away the milk so that he doesn't think the cow is free. Don't be an exhibitionist, don't be submissive, don't engage in sex work, don't expect to be loved if you've been too slutty.
BUT, and this is a big but, those things are not then by definition, because they're excoriated by certain segments of society, feminist acts just because a feminist (or a woman) is doing them. That is my main point about this post. Not that feminism and sexuality aren't intertwined, but that we can stand up for sexuality without having to hold women to a higher standard because of feminism.
Or in the words of Jezebel commenter blueberryblackberry:
I practice BDSM and I'm a woman who tops men. It frustrates me when others try to politicize this into a feminist statement (and especially into some kind of bizarre "female supremacy" bullshit). My kink is my kink because it turns me on, not because it aligns with any social or political ideology.
For some kink or a fetish or their sexual expression might be linked to their feminism, but to assume it's so, or to imbue feminist ideals onto sexual acts and motivations without hearing from the participants, is a grave mistake in my opinion, especially when we have people like Rabbi Shmuley Boteach telling us that "How The Condom Culture is Killing Sex". The answer is not that "all casual sex is wonderful" or "empower" or "feminist," but that as autonomous adults, we have the option to engage in casual sex and discover whether it suits us or not.
I will have more to say, especially as this relates to topics like BDSM and female masochism, but I have to head back to the walk.
There is also a very interesting discussion going on at Violet Blue's blog Tiny Nibbles about what the definition of "sex-positive" is that I think can help inform this discussion.
This is going to start with four cliched words: I'm a feminist but...I don't think feminism and fucking are quite as intertwined as they are sometimes tagged as being. That is not to say I think they're unrelated, but there is not always an obvious connection, and that's a good thing.
What do I mean? Well, let's look at Karen Owen and the Duke Fuck List. Much of the discussion about the list asked the question of whether what she wrote was an example of "feminist empowerment." But that idea in itself almost mocks feminism, because it means that anything a woman does is automatically assumed to be speaking for all women and having some grand meaning rather than an individual one.
Jasper Hamill wrote in Scotland's The Herald:
No-one admires the misogynistic way sports teams objectify women, so why on earth would we admire the same thing flipped on its head?
Why does that question automatically have to be asked? Why does every woman, whether or not she's a feminist, have to be a stand-in for all women and all of feminism? Isn't that just another version of putting women on a pedestal, except this time it's a feminist one?
Witness Catherine Cai in The Emery Wheel:
But to call Owen a feminist hero would be a disgusting misinterpretation of the events. By assigning worth to individuals based on appearances and sexual performances, she’s only reversing the roles, not doing away with them. In the end, Owen is not empowering women, but simply subscribing to the same patriarchal system that feminists have fought against for decades, one that insists on a dominant party and a subordinate party.
Feminism is also not about women’s domination over men, power plays, reversing the tables or spite. That counterproductive approach is what gave rise to such negative terms as “feminazi” and “manhater,” which, at the end of the day, only detract from the movement. Feminism should be about women’s self empowerment — a simple and worthy goal that’s too often lost in translation.
I think to take something that was never intended to be shown publicly (unless that is all a ruse and it was a wonderful media ploy, but I don't believe that) and try to assign some grander meaning on Owen's part is problematic, to say the least. Whether or not it was empowering for Owen is a different question from whether or not the list's public spectacle is "empowering" for all women. This is the same question that came up ad nauseam about Sex and the City, though there it was slightly more valid, as that was a television show aimed at the public, but still, it was never allowed to just be entertainment, and Samantha Jones was repeatedly held up as a negative example of "sexual empowerment." But was she trying to be a feminist heroine (or hero) or, like Owen, perhaps, just herself? Do we need to hold up every promiscuous woman as the "new" feminist icon?
This is not 1994, and we have moved on from the Tad Friend-coined term "do me feminism," though there are still plenty of feminist sex activists, women who are starting sex toy stores, sharing information, providing options.
The problem becomes when we start to make judgments against women like Owen because we don't want her to be held up as an icon. "That's fine for her, but..."
Tom Leonard in the Daily Mail, to my mind, misread the original Jezebel post when he wrote:
Meanwhile, critics are particularly offended that she is being held up as a champion of female sexuality and empowerment. Feminist icon status beckons.
Two websites that printed her ‘thesis’ claim they have been approached by the William Morris talent agency, the publisher HarperCollins and a film company, desperate to get hold of Owen to discuss book or film deals.
An editor at HarperCollins was quoted as speaking about the student’s ‘sense of self-empowerment’.
The women’s website Jezebel proclaimed: ‘Here’s another reminder that women can be as aggressive, or acquisitive, about sex as men can. And there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as all parties are consenting.’
I think this is the same reason that a lot of women, myself included, have struggled with our own masochism and kinkiness, especially when our play partners are men, because that seems to smack of some kind of antifeminist imagery. In other words, how can you be a feminist and like: to get tied up, verbally degraded, choked, spanked, exposed, etc., by a man? Those kinks are held up as examples that we often internalize about how we are supposed to behave, and rarely does the female dominant/male submissive get mentioned.
When I've edited the Best Sex Writing series, I get a disproportionate number of essays from feminist submissives grappling with how feminism and submission fit together. It's not that this is not a worthwhile topic to write about or consider, but the fact that we belabor it to such a degree means that we do think, on some level, that our individual actions need to be held up as some sort of heroic feminist acts, and that's where I think we've taken the political too far.
I also think that while of course the personal is political, that doesn't mean that everything about an individual's sex life can be reduced to politics. For example...I have trouble orgasming. I'm one of the women that new national sex survey is talking about (not literally, as I wasn't surveyed, but in general), but whenever I see that reduced to a "problem" or called anti-feminist, it makes me feel like there is something personally defective about me.
Perhaps the larger question is: does everything a feminist does have to be "feminist" or can it just be something she does? Because we are never all going to agree on what a proper feminist sex act is, in part because I don't think there can be such a definition. It's like we're being goaded to hold up Owen as a hero or dismiss her as a whore, and I would hope that we could recognize that people do not so easily fit into extremes, and that sex, of all things, is more complicated than that.
I think Megan Carpentier at Jezebel is dead right that women are told:
Don't watch porn, don't give blow jobs, don't go home with just anyone, don't give away the milk so that he doesn't think the cow is free. Don't be an exhibitionist, don't be submissive, don't engage in sex work, don't expect to be loved if you've been too slutty.
BUT, and this is a big but, those things are not then by definition, because they're excoriated by certain segments of society, feminist acts just because a feminist (or a woman) is doing them. That is my main point about this post. Not that feminism and sexuality aren't intertwined, but that we can stand up for sexuality without having to hold women to a higher standard because of feminism.
Or in the words of Jezebel commenter blueberryblackberry:
I practice BDSM and I'm a woman who tops men. It frustrates me when others try to politicize this into a feminist statement (and especially into some kind of bizarre "female supremacy" bullshit). My kink is my kink because it turns me on, not because it aligns with any social or political ideology.
For some kink or a fetish or their sexual expression might be linked to their feminism, but to assume it's so, or to imbue feminist ideals onto sexual acts and motivations without hearing from the participants, is a grave mistake in my opinion, especially when we have people like Rabbi Shmuley Boteach telling us that "How The Condom Culture is Killing Sex". The answer is not that "all casual sex is wonderful" or "empower" or "feminist," but that as autonomous adults, we have the option to engage in casual sex and discover whether it suits us or not.
I will have more to say, especially as this relates to topics like BDSM and female masochism, but I have to head back to the walk.
There is also a very interesting discussion going on at Violet Blue's blog Tiny Nibbles about what the definition of "sex-positive" is that I think can help inform this discussion.
