Tragic's Wake

People are reading way too much into fashion. I absolutely disagree with the sexualization of children but if a grown woman likes “Lolita fashion” or something similar then it’s her choice. Why must we turn everything into a debate of boy vs. girl or harmful sexuality? Why can’t something be just plain fun? The discussions on the great innerwebz seem to point towards the idea that everything but a potato sack is an affront to humanity and a direct attack on feminism..

The implied greater implication is that fashion doesn’t reflect the people who follow it rather the great oppression of feminists by the awesome reach of the patriarchy. Apparently we’re conditioned to like certain styles because it makes men horny and we do it subconsciously for them but what if it isn’t conditioning? What if I’d wear a certain style even if I was home alone with no thoughts of a man? What if I just plain like something? I wasn’t programmed by the patriarchy no matter what the activists say. The argument is long and ridiculously complex but basically the very women who want to empower us to be free to make our own decisions are the ones telling us which decisions we’re allowed to make based on their own rather convoluted idioms.. I just really like lipstick; fuck off.

–So the girl who wears cargo pants and mean boots is doing it because she hates her femininity and she does this subconsciously to reject The Man™ and the girl who wears short skirts and high heels is doing it because she wants to please The Man™.. They tell us we’re equal and that we deserve to be treated thus but they go and flip the tables to tell us that every decision we make is somehow rooted to the oppression by said Man and that our deep seeded conditioning is what dictates our movements rather than a strong and inherent sense of self which apparently we should be allowed to harbour in there somewhere but for our Freedom Fighters (who seem to actually have something to prove to The Man™ can’t stop showing us otherwise and putting us back in that archaic hole, whether they realize it or not) in the end we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. Freedom is just another group telling us what we can do but not allowing us to freely do what we really want.

The same goes for those folks who call out women for being too thin or too fat, not dressing age appropriately, having cosmetic procedures and so on. Why is there always some reason that we’re too dumb or naive to see on our own? Why does it always come down to someone fixing shit for us because they know best? What is the point of having equality and freedom and shit like that if we’re just being stuffed into another dogmatic hole regarding what we’re allowed to do as women?

I’m sick of people telling me what I can wear, how I can speak or look, how many babies I can have or how many fetii I can abort (or not), I’m sick of hearing how wrong slut shaming is (which it is) and then being passive aggressively shamed by the same people who claim it to be so wrong. I’m sick of being told that if I like to flirt then I’m absolutely buying into the patriarchy mandates and for fuck sake if I hear one more bully bitch losing her shit over bullying while she’s in the middle of covertly destroying another woman’s self esteem then I think I’m gonna bust someone’s balls!

So I may not be the poster child for Feminism™ but I do believe in equality and fairness and that includes my boots and short skirts, that includes showing my bra straps in public, that includes wearing the trashiest red lipstick I can find. I will walk through a door when it’s held for me, I will throw every drop of charm  into the smile I toss at the friendly man who held said door, I will call out any woman who has the audacity to try and dictate to me the rules for my unique personhood.

While I’m standing up for my rights against the very folks who are trying to squash them (for my “own good” of course) I will also have an eye open for those men who may try to take advantage of my distraction, the douchebags who only want to use my low self-esteem to get a piece of ass, the jerks who can see how distracted I am defending myself from my own team. I will survive. And while I’m doing all of that: I will be the best mother I can be, I will go to bed with my husband, I will flirt shamelessly with the mailman and I will stand up for my girls when someone throws this unbalanced shit at them.

Oh, and I’m not your sister, sister. Thanks but I’m sitting this game out. I’ll be over there under the bleachers in my slutty miniskirt and having a smoke. Why? Because I am in complete control of who I am and I just plain fucking can.

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