In 1966, Bobbi Gibb became the first woman to run the Boston Marathon. I can’t say officially, because she did this at a time when women were not permitted to run the Boston Marathon. She had applied but she was told not only that women weren’t allowed, but that they weren’t “physiologically capable.” (LOL) But […]
For years, my son has been using my wife’s makeup to give his Barbie dolls makeovers and put makeup on a life-size mannequin head he got for Christmas a while back. Then he started doing my wife’s makeup regularly, so I figured it was inevitable that I would be his next victim.
If I said no to something as trivial as allowing him to paint my face, what would I be teaching him?
I’d be teaching him that playing dress-up or giving his dad a makeover is something to be ashamed of or something to hide. I don’t want to teach him that.
I want to teach him that…
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Originally posted on Queer Femme Mama: Apparently the city of Richmond Hill, Ontario seems to think their summer camps belong in another era. They are offering “Boyz Rule” camp, featuring extreme sports, including roller skating, biking and skateboarding. The “girlz” on the other hand, get to partake in such womanly activities as manicures, colouring and…
The opening sequence of Legally Blonde is all pink products and blond hair. We cut between scenes of college and sorority life – a girl being catcalled by frat guys as she bikes past their house, girls in pink workout gear on treadmills, those Tiffany’s heart bracelets everywhere – and Reese Witherspoon’s silky hair and perfectly manicured hands surrounded by beauty-products and markers of traditionally recognizable, material femininity: Herbal Essences “True Color” Blonde hair-dye; nail polishes; dried roses on a stack of Cosmopolitans; a Homecoming Queen banner; a lovingly decorated “President” sorority paddle. Everything that could be pink is pink, from the bedspread, to the glitter pens used to write on a pink card in a pink envelope, to the doggy-sweater for Bruiser, Elle Wood’s chic Chihuahua.
Just four minutes into the movie, a salesgirl sizes Elle up the way many viewers – my thirteen year-old self included –…
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I grew up on this shit.
My friends, we have a lot to learn from the aliens.
No, not those three-eyed, green, cone-head visitors from Pluto. They might be able to teach us how to fry other planets with lasers or create buildings with the shear force of our minds, but I’m more interested in lessons of body positivity. For that, we need Disney’s cuter and fluffier creation: Stitch.
Stitch isn’t a classic hero. He doesn’t have six-pack abs (although he can lift ridiculous amounts of weight), and he has more than a few anger issues that deter him from saving the day. However, he manages to fall in love with two girls who both break the standard princess mold.
I loved Disney princesses growing up. I wanted to be Snow White or Cinderella. I wanted to be Ariel or Belle. I wanted to marry a prince. I wanted a happily ever after.
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