I know I said I'd write this post about the comment from that crazay guy, "If you support Christianity you support anti-gay, anti-choice and anti-science beliefs", but I'm not going to. I'm not sure who I'm trying to reassure as I justify why (most likely myself) but here goes.
The main reason is, I honestly don't know what to say. Obviously I disagree with his opinion.*
*This is coming from a non 'anti-gay', pro-choice (I think, the politics of it is all very confusing), Biology and Chemistry AS-level taking person so I feel like I'm allowed to disagree.
One thing I do agree on, however, is the bit about 'support'. People have different opinions. Some I agree with, and others (the larger portion, surprise, surprise) I don't. That doesn't mean I have the right to inflict my views on them, or to automatically shrug theirs off. Everyone has reasons for what they believe, and who am I* to make a judgement on that?
*Or anyone, really. Everyone's equal y'all.
But that's all I want to say, really. Abortion, in particular, is a topic I care deeply about but have no desire to write about on here, at this present moment. I just know I'll say something stupid (as my past dictates) and it's not really an issue you can cover with pink glitter to resolve. I know this blog is supposed to be like a place where I can concentrate all my feelings and not worry about starting a debate, but with such a sensitive subject, and the need for eloquence, I don't want to attempt to share my thoughts on this and end up in a bigger whole of desperation and pointlessness than I usually do. I don't want anyone to think I'm scared of the topic, or dismissing it as it's not of great enough importance to be included in my ramblings, just that I don't want to end up accidentally offending someone (I'm really quite good at that) or accidentally making light of such a serious topic (I am almost always inappropriately informal). I will probably write a post about it in the future (if this blog lasts that long) but until then, nuh uh honey.*
*I feel like that's a quote from something? Ah well, it sounds sassay.
So. After that lengthy explanation of why I'm not writing about something, here's a little update on the things I am totally rating at the moment:
1. Coats.
This is the thing I have missed most about cold weather. Not hot chocolate, or cinnamon (people pretend to be really into it but they just want to sound seasonal) but coats. I am one of those people who firmly believe that an outfit is not complete without a bag and a coat. That sounds so ew and go away Lily-y but I cannot count the number of times I have taken my (fairly big) satchel out with me, with nothing but my phone and a packet of chewing gum being tossed around in it. I also believe that whatever you wear, stained, holey or just my-mum-bought-it-ugly, if you wear a good coat you can pull it off. You have to be picky with coats, though. I mean, you're gonna wear it everyday so it's gotta look good. I tend to go for things that distract from the disgusting-ness of whatever I'm wearing underneath. Like fur or vintage or pink or denim or pink or fluffy. Or pink.
2. Tissues.
When the box of tissues comes out in my house/flat/place of residence, you know it's cold season. Everyday before I walk out the door, I have to inhale a few hundred medicines just to keep me from collapsing from the sheer exhaustion of having a cold at school. You hardly notice it when you're at home, when there's a constant stream of paracetamol on hand at all times and no-one to judge you when you blow your nose and abnormal substances appear in your tissue.*
*Too much information? Yeah, I thought so.
But when you're at school, it is a million times worse. Every time you feel a sniff being urgently needed, the class is pin-drop silent in the middle of a test (or something else that requires everyone's attention to be on the poor kid fumbling around desperately in their pockets for tissues, only to find old receipts and crumbs). Yes, I'm that kid
at the back of the classroom, sniffing a million times a minute and
tissue fluff cascading out of my pocket every time I move. And the school nurse can't give you paracetamol, obviously, so you're stuck sniffing, red-nosed and just generally feeling vile. As you can probably tell, I don't cope well with illness.
3. Modern Family.
My mum decided to buy the box set of season 1 and 2 last month, and obviously, because this is the sort of obsessive person I am, I have now caught up with the rest of the world and am enjoying distracting myself from the mound of work I need to do with season 5. I don't quite know why I have never got into it before. Actually, I do. It's because things like Nashville, The Vampire Diaries and Modern Family are all programmes not shown on the TV channels I have access to. This means that, to hear about them, I have to have friends who watch it, a mum who compulsively buys box sets, or the ability to search on Google (for hours) "Top 10 American TV programmes".*
*Because we all know they're the best. Excluding Sherlock, Made in Chelsea and Wolfblood.
4. Dried dates.
I hate dried fruit....is what I always thought, until I tried dates. As most of you will know, I've recently moved to Bristol. Bristol is basically a city full of middle class coconut water drinkers, bike riders and quinoa* absorbers.
*Pronounced 'keen-wah'.
Everyone's vegan, vegetarian, or on a strictly No Refined Sugar Diet.
So obviously there's a big market here for:
a) Weird, expensive grains.
b) Weird, expensive waters.
c) Weird, expensive dried fruit.
Naturally, I happen to know a few of these Bristolians, and by fate, I happened to be offered a dried date. I've always avoided dates because they literally look like giant raisins, and raisins are the food of rabbits and children who go to 'after school clubs'. But anyway, I tried it and basically my life suddenly had meaning. They are so good.
5. ----- in Parliament.
These are programmes that I watch on BBC iPlayer, and watching them is my new hobby. The '-----' represents a day of the week, and they have them for Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and, if you fancy a bit of a treat, a 'The Week' highlights show. Obviously my initial reason for watching them was because I didn't want to be the least educated person in my politics class, but now it's just because I like watching David Cameron fulfill every single stereotype about British politicians. He has a posh voice, he has perfected the patronizing laugh, and (best of all) he goes really red. It's a bit alarming actually, but not enough to not still be hilarious.*
*I googled 'David Cameron looks like' and basically some people think he looks like ham. Just a little nugget of information for you to take away this week.
So that's it for this week. I'm so sorry I haven't posted in sooooo long but hopefully this one is long enough to make up for it.
Wednesday, 10 December 2014
Monday, 27 October 2014
Wam Bam Thank You Mam
I am one of those people that spend a large portion of their life:
a) Reading comments on videos, photos etc.
b) Going on Wikipedia adventures.
c) Searching random names on Google.
It was when I was scrolling through the thousands of comments on a post (loosely) about victim-blaming when I noticed one guy's contribution (I'm good at spotting the ignorant ones). What he said was something along the lines of "Anyone who thinks women are oppressed in modern society has some research to do." and "If you support Christianity you support anti-gay, anti-choice and anti-science beliefs".*
*I was actually impressed that someone other than me could go so off-topic.
I'm going to address the oppression comment in this post, just so all you anti-christianity folks can be prepared for the next one.
Aren't I nice?
I'm going to assume that 'modern society' only refers to the women that he encounters on a day-to-day basis because, if not, then he must not know about the 62 million girls around the world not in school, the 100 million girls estimated to become child brides over the next 10 years, or that 70% of the world's poorest people are female.
And he just happened to forget that 1 in 5 women will be a victim of rape or attempted rape in their lifetime, that the average age of a woman entering prostitution is 13, or that women earn less than 10% of the world's wages but do more than two thirds of the work. Or maybe he didn't forget, and he has a different definition of oppression to me.
How's that for 'research'?
So the next time you hear someone say that feminism is unnecessary, or that there's no such thing as gender inequality, you can Shut. That. Down. #wambamthankyoumam
Another argument that seems to pop up a lot within the anti-feminist community (the slightly more knowledgeable but still ignorant ones) is that how can white, middle class girls complain about injustice when so much worse things are happening in other countries? This argument gets to me. Not only because it puts feminism in a bad light, but also because to people who don't argue on either side of this unending war (between feminists and the people who make the ant-feminist memes), it is a valid point.
And I agree, partially. I agree that girls like me, and most of my friends, shouldn't be so absorbed by our daily grievances that we forget what is happening all over the world. But I absolutely don't think that justifies not fighting at all. Personally, I don't just argue with people who make sexist comments because they annoy me, but to also make a point. That sounds petty but if we let the little, everyday things slide by (like being called bossy for wanting to be heard in a discussion in class, or a guy putting his hand up your skirt etc.) what example does that set to anyone, anywhere?
Until sexism becomes a thing of the past, until teachers stop being surprised when I tell them I either want to enter medicine or politics, and until the guys in my class stop thinking their opinion is worth more than mine, I won't stop fighting.
a) Reading comments on videos, photos etc.
b) Going on Wikipedia adventures.
c) Searching random names on Google.
It was when I was scrolling through the thousands of comments on a post (loosely) about victim-blaming when I noticed one guy's contribution (I'm good at spotting the ignorant ones). What he said was something along the lines of "Anyone who thinks women are oppressed in modern society has some research to do." and "If you support Christianity you support anti-gay, anti-choice and anti-science beliefs".*
*I was actually impressed that someone other than me could go so off-topic.
I'm going to address the oppression comment in this post, just so all you anti-christianity folks can be prepared for the next one.
Aren't I nice?
I'm going to assume that 'modern society' only refers to the women that he encounters on a day-to-day basis because, if not, then he must not know about the 62 million girls around the world not in school, the 100 million girls estimated to become child brides over the next 10 years, or that 70% of the world's poorest people are female.
And he just happened to forget that 1 in 5 women will be a victim of rape or attempted rape in their lifetime, that the average age of a woman entering prostitution is 13, or that women earn less than 10% of the world's wages but do more than two thirds of the work. Or maybe he didn't forget, and he has a different definition of oppression to me.
How's that for 'research'?
So the next time you hear someone say that feminism is unnecessary, or that there's no such thing as gender inequality, you can Shut. That. Down. #wambamthankyoumam
Another argument that seems to pop up a lot within the anti-feminist community (the slightly more knowledgeable but still ignorant ones) is that how can white, middle class girls complain about injustice when so much worse things are happening in other countries? This argument gets to me. Not only because it puts feminism in a bad light, but also because to people who don't argue on either side of this unending war (between feminists and the people who make the ant-feminist memes), it is a valid point.
And I agree, partially. I agree that girls like me, and most of my friends, shouldn't be so absorbed by our daily grievances that we forget what is happening all over the world. But I absolutely don't think that justifies not fighting at all. Personally, I don't just argue with people who make sexist comments because they annoy me, but to also make a point. That sounds petty but if we let the little, everyday things slide by (like being called bossy for wanting to be heard in a discussion in class, or a guy putting his hand up your skirt etc.) what example does that set to anyone, anywhere?
Until sexism becomes a thing of the past, until teachers stop being surprised when I tell them I either want to enter medicine or politics, and until the guys in my class stop thinking their opinion is worth more than mine, I won't stop fighting.
Saturday, 18 October 2014
Really, We Wear Pink Any Day.
I was so sure I was going to write a post the day after the last one, just to prove all you #doubterz and #haterz wrong, but instead I find myself writing this while my mum is screaming at me to come downstairs, and the only thing I've packed for this weekend away we're going on is gold eyeshadow.
Basically, I have no sense of urgency. Like, none. In fact, this is mum's favourite thing to tell me, after "You have no sense of direction". As I'm sure you can tell, she's a bundle of laughter and cuddles, constantly spouting out these little nuggets of joy,
Ah, sweet unconditional love.
So, unsurprisingly, I just lived up to my mum's incredibly low expectations and haven't thought about this post until today.*
*a week later
Well, technically, I thought about it but had no motivation to actually write it. Also, I had a little bit of a revelation. That sounds dramatic but basically it's just my cynical side making a brief appearance. What I realised, was that these posts may be really erratic and structure-less(?), but I would rather give you guys something to read that I am vaguely proud of, or I at least think is worth reading, once a month, than write a post every week that is brief and boring.*
*You know the ones, "Hey guys, hope you're all okay. I had an avocado and goat eyelash sourdough roll for lunch and it just made my skin feel beautiful and my soul feel refreshed. Stay inspired, L x'
Like, what?
This doesn't mean I'm going to post once a month, or that I'm never going to write short-and-sweet posts, but just that I see no point in forcing myself to write something just to make sure people don't think I've given up. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't let this blog become another phase in my life but actually something that I can look at and use to reflect on my life.
Gosh, that sounds pretentious.
So while you're all pining for my Wonderful Words of Wisdom and obsessively refreshing the page in desperation, remember I'm still alive, still making horrible, embarrassing mistakes, and still wearing too much pink.*
*pffttt impossible
p.s. I made friends!
p.p.s. Okay, I found people I want to be friends with. You may think they're the same thing but there's a difference between being seen as someone's friend and being the girl no-one knows the name of but is always there.
p.p.p.s. In case you didn't get that, I'm the creepy lurker.
p.p.p.p.s. That makes me sound desperate bu- that's exactly what I am.
p.p.p.p.p.s. I take that back, I'm not desperate just not not desperate.
p.p.p.p.p.p.s That made so little sense I confused myself.
Basically, I have no sense of urgency. Like, none. In fact, this is mum's favourite thing to tell me, after "You have no sense of direction". As I'm sure you can tell, she's a bundle of laughter and cuddles, constantly spouting out these little nuggets of joy,
Ah, sweet unconditional love.
So, unsurprisingly, I just lived up to my mum's incredibly low expectations and haven't thought about this post until today.*
*a week later
Well, technically, I thought about it but had no motivation to actually write it. Also, I had a little bit of a revelation. That sounds dramatic but basically it's just my cynical side making a brief appearance. What I realised, was that these posts may be really erratic and structure-less(?), but I would rather give you guys something to read that I am vaguely proud of, or I at least think is worth reading, once a month, than write a post every week that is brief and boring.*
*You know the ones, "Hey guys, hope you're all okay. I had an avocado and goat eyelash sourdough roll for lunch and it just made my skin feel beautiful and my soul feel refreshed. Stay inspired, L x'
Like, what?
This doesn't mean I'm going to post once a month, or that I'm never going to write short-and-sweet posts, but just that I see no point in forcing myself to write something just to make sure people don't think I've given up. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't let this blog become another phase in my life but actually something that I can look at and use to reflect on my life.
Gosh, that sounds pretentious.
So while you're all pining for my Wonderful Words of Wisdom and obsessively refreshing the page in desperation, remember I'm still alive, still making horrible, embarrassing mistakes, and still wearing too much pink.*
*pffttt impossible
p.s. I made friends!
p.p.s. Okay, I found people I want to be friends with. You may think they're the same thing but there's a difference between being seen as someone's friend and being the girl no-one knows the name of but is always there.
p.p.p.s. In case you didn't get that, I'm the creepy lurker.
p.p.p.p.s. That makes me sound desperate bu- that's exactly what I am.
p.p.p.p.p.s. I take that back, I'm not desperate just not not desperate.
p.p.p.p.p.p.s That made so little sense I confused myself.
Thursday, 25 September 2014
On Wednesdays, We Wear Pink.
Sooo sorry I haven't posted in like 12 days (I know it's hard on you guys), but I have been crazy busy starting college and getting lost in bristol repeatedly and getting lost in college and basically just being very, very lost (figuratively and like, literally).
My first few days were kinda a mixture of confused-ness, alone-ness and desperation...ness. I think I imagined starting a new college (in a new city) as being a bit like Mean Girls.*
*Except less bitchiness and definitely no corpse bride costumes.
I thought I'd go into my lessons 'The New Girl' but walk out having found my niche, with a few new best friends, and basically fitting right in. Obviously that's an exaggeration, but I genuinely did expect to find a friendship group in those first few days and instantly feel like I belonged.
Of course, that didn't happen and instead, I spent a lot of time at breaks and between lessons walking aimlessly, trying to give the impression that I knew where I was going and, oh, my friends are just around the corner. I actually had to ask one girl if I could follow her. Yeah, you read that right. Follow her. As soon as I said it I knew that was the end of re-creating myself as an independent, confident Bristolian and the beginning of being known as 'The Stalker Girl'. Luckily, I'd picked a forgiving, and hopefully deaf, victim for my word vomit and she seemed perfectly happy (but maybe she was too freaked out to say anything) to give me the job as her shadow for the day.
And that was only the second day.
I want to say that I turned it around, I now actually have got loads of friends, and I don't get lost anymore, but if I did, I'd be lying.
I don't know how long it'll be before I can stop having a little nervous breakdown every lunchtime when I realise I have no-one to sit with, or when I feel like I've found people I know well enough to hang out with outside of college but until that day comes, I have my Kindle and a notebook full of sassy, feminist ranty songs.
I'd have to say one of the highlights of my week so far was getting free (veggie) burgers from a church near my college. When I heard about this, I thought there would be like a little room in the back of the church where me, and the 7 other lonely people, were sat on fold-out chairs eating soggy burgers while worship songs from the 1990s played through a CD player in the corner. It was nothing like that. I swear literally every single Post-16 (and uni) student was in the queue for these burgers. The queue looked like a crowd waiting to go into a concert at Rock City and the church looked like it was hosting a craft fair. Bunting and all.
I managed to tag along with groups when I went to get my burgers (of course I've been three times), just in case you think I stood eating my burger, ketchup stained and alone. I'm not sure if that image is less pathetic than the reality, which was me hobbling, failing miserably to balance my burger, ice lolly and squash, while the group I was with disappeared further and further into the horizon. Yeah, I still haven't perfected the art of not being forgotten.
I'll get it eventually.
I hope.
In other news, I have been added into a 'Gender Equality Movement' page on Facebook, which is equal parts flattering and terrifying. I'm not sure what these people are going to think of a randomer skipping in, waving a feminist flag and attempting to act casual.
I so, so, hope that in my next post (probably in another 12 days) I will be able to tell you about all my amazing friends I've made* and how much easier college is but I doubt it.
*I've met amazing people but I'm not sure they want to refer to me as a 'friend' yet.
Stay awesome and stay Mean Girls-loving.
My first few days were kinda a mixture of confused-ness, alone-ness and desperation...ness. I think I imagined starting a new college (in a new city) as being a bit like Mean Girls.*
*Except less bitchiness and definitely no corpse bride costumes.
I thought I'd go into my lessons 'The New Girl' but walk out having found my niche, with a few new best friends, and basically fitting right in. Obviously that's an exaggeration, but I genuinely did expect to find a friendship group in those first few days and instantly feel like I belonged.
Of course, that didn't happen and instead, I spent a lot of time at breaks and between lessons walking aimlessly, trying to give the impression that I knew where I was going and, oh, my friends are just around the corner. I actually had to ask one girl if I could follow her. Yeah, you read that right. Follow her. As soon as I said it I knew that was the end of re-creating myself as an independent, confident Bristolian and the beginning of being known as 'The Stalker Girl'. Luckily, I'd picked a forgiving, and hopefully deaf, victim for my word vomit and she seemed perfectly happy (but maybe she was too freaked out to say anything) to give me the job as her shadow for the day.
And that was only the second day.
I want to say that I turned it around, I now actually have got loads of friends, and I don't get lost anymore, but if I did, I'd be lying.
I don't know how long it'll be before I can stop having a little nervous breakdown every lunchtime when I realise I have no-one to sit with, or when I feel like I've found people I know well enough to hang out with outside of college but until that day comes, I have my Kindle and a notebook full of sassy, feminist ranty songs.
I'd have to say one of the highlights of my week so far was getting free (veggie) burgers from a church near my college. When I heard about this, I thought there would be like a little room in the back of the church where me, and the 7 other lonely people, were sat on fold-out chairs eating soggy burgers while worship songs from the 1990s played through a CD player in the corner. It was nothing like that. I swear literally every single Post-16 (and uni) student was in the queue for these burgers. The queue looked like a crowd waiting to go into a concert at Rock City and the church looked like it was hosting a craft fair. Bunting and all.
I managed to tag along with groups when I went to get my burgers (of course I've been three times), just in case you think I stood eating my burger, ketchup stained and alone. I'm not sure if that image is less pathetic than the reality, which was me hobbling, failing miserably to balance my burger, ice lolly and squash, while the group I was with disappeared further and further into the horizon. Yeah, I still haven't perfected the art of not being forgotten.
I'll get it eventually.
I hope.
In other news, I have been added into a 'Gender Equality Movement' page on Facebook, which is equal parts flattering and terrifying. I'm not sure what these people are going to think of a randomer skipping in, waving a feminist flag and attempting to act casual.
I so, so, hope that in my next post (probably in another 12 days) I will be able to tell you about all my amazing friends I've made* and how much easier college is but I doubt it.
*I've met amazing people but I'm not sure they want to refer to me as a 'friend' yet.
Stay awesome and stay Mean Girls-loving.
Saturday, 13 September 2014
Goodbye My Lover, Goodbye My Friend
Every so often I go through my twitter and make sure my tweets give the impression of a cool gal with some cute quirks, rather than a social-life-less teenage girl with a slightly addictive personality.
Yeah, it's hard.
So I was scrolling down my twitter profile the other day and decided to (bravely) make a little compilation of the tweets that I probably should have censored a while ago. I'm afraid these tweets don't exactly fit my desired persona but hey, if that was the aim, I shouldn't have made this blog.
1.The time me and one of my best friends, Emma, walked into our physics classroom singing 'I'M SO HOLLOW BABAYYY I'M SOOO HOLLOW" and promptly got sent out. It remains the single proudest moment of my life.
2. The time I got emotional about being the only person I know who will happily watch Japanese animation and eat pink goo for hours on end. How does that not sound appealing?
3. The time I became a one-woman-banana-nesquik-hoovering-machine.
4. The time I decided to break tradition and buy a mini tinsel Christmas tree. Unfortunately, it was more of an aqua colour rather than pink but I still treasured it and even bought little baubles and fairy lights to decorate it with.
5. The time I was rehearsing for one of my GCSE drama performances and during my big, dramatic monologue I managed to obtain an almost perfect welsh accent.
6. The time (two days ago) when I watched the Vampire Academy film then bought the first three books then read them then attempted to run away and become a vampire. I'm now on book six.
7. The time I watched the Vampire Diaries season 5 finale and got my heart broken.
8. The time (yesterday) I was having stationary-withdrawal-symptoms and bought 24 Sharpies.
9. The time I tried to revise physics and music and failed.
10. The other time I tried to revise physics and failed.
11. The final time I tried to revise physics. And failed.
12. The time I packed my bag whilst half-asleep.
13. The time I rekindled my year 5 addiction of cheap milk bottles.
14. The time I went to a talk at church and the guy said something really cool.
15. The time I cried over some hilarious person's ranting.
16. The time I finally realised that the purpose of twitter is to unveil hidden parts of your personlity.
I hope you enjoyed this insight into my twitter. In case you want to keep up with my erratic tweeting and addictive retweeting, my account is @electriclils
Yeah, it's hard.
So I was scrolling down my twitter profile the other day and decided to (bravely) make a little compilation of the tweets that I probably should have censored a while ago. I'm afraid these tweets don't exactly fit my desired persona but hey, if that was the aim, I shouldn't have made this blog.
1.The time me and one of my best friends, Emma, walked into our physics classroom singing 'I'M SO HOLLOW BABAYYY I'M SOOO HOLLOW" and promptly got sent out. It remains the single proudest moment of my life.
2. The time I got emotional about being the only person I know who will happily watch Japanese animation and eat pink goo for hours on end. How does that not sound appealing?
3. The time I became a one-woman-banana-nesquik-hoovering-machine.
4. The time I decided to break tradition and buy a mini tinsel Christmas tree. Unfortunately, it was more of an aqua colour rather than pink but I still treasured it and even bought little baubles and fairy lights to decorate it with.
5. The time I was rehearsing for one of my GCSE drama performances and during my big, dramatic monologue I managed to obtain an almost perfect welsh accent.
6. The time (two days ago) when I watched the Vampire Academy film then bought the first three books then read them then attempted to run away and become a vampire. I'm now on book six.
7. The time I watched the Vampire Diaries season 5 finale and got my heart broken.
8. The time (yesterday) I was having stationary-withdrawal-symptoms and bought 24 Sharpies.
9. The time I tried to revise physics and music and failed.
10. The other time I tried to revise physics and failed.
11. The final time I tried to revise physics. And failed.
12. The time I packed my bag whilst half-asleep.
13. The time I rekindled my year 5 addiction of cheap milk bottles.
14. The time I went to a talk at church and the guy said something really cool.
15. The time I cried over some hilarious person's ranting.
16. The time I finally realised that the purpose of twitter is to unveil hidden parts of your personlity.
I hope you enjoyed this insight into my twitter. In case you want to keep up with my erratic tweeting and addictive retweeting, my account is @electriclils
Saturday, 6 September 2014
How To Keep A Tidy Home Without Breaking A Nail
My (well my mum’s, no 16 year old can
actually afford a magazine subscription) monthly Red magazine arrived through
the post this week*.
*That sounds like an awful metaphor a
teacher would use for periods in a Year 6 sex-ed class.
One of the features was the ‘Red’s Women Of
The Year’ awards and I literally fan-girled over it. It not only included
middle-aged women I had never heard of, but also BBC Radio 1 presenters and
even some fellow bloggers*.
*I say ‘fellow’, but I will never, ever be
in the same league as these women.
Of course, being Red, and being just an
all-round fab magazine, these awards weren’t for ‘The World’s Sexiest Woman’ or
‘Greatest Arse of 2014’ but instead were for innovators, leaders and
world-changers. Each one inspired me in a different way, whether it was to
speak more openly about the issues concerning FGM and abuse, to carry on this
blog or to not be afraid of having power.
What I really came away with, however, was
that feminism isn’t just about the women we see on our TVs and hear about,
campaigning for equal rights, or the celebrities (like B-queen) making a stand
at a huge, sold-out arena, but also how the little people, like me and you,
live our lives.
This sounds really patronising but feminism
is all about standing up for ourselves, and for women everywhere, whether it be
to thousands of screaming fans or just to those few guys at school who haven’t
hit puberty yet and are completely and utterly up themselves. This is
especially tricky for me as I go to church. I’m not saying everyone there
believes in a patriarchal society or that they hand us booklets titled ‘Cooking
For Your Husband’ and ‘How To Keep A Tidy Home Without Breaking A Nail’, but if
I can discuss feminism with a male youth leader I can pretty much discuss it
with anyone. And so can you, gurl!*
*Or guy, whoever is reading this really.
I think the last give-away that I was
feminist, to anyone who didn’t already know (I’m 98% sure they lived in caves),
was my Facebook post:
#yesallwomen
"Because the odds of being attacked by a shark are 1 in 3,748,067, while a woman's odds of being raped are 1 in 5....yet fear of sharks is seen as rational while being cautious of men is seen as misandry."
"Because the odds of being attacked by a shark are 1 in 3,748,067, while a woman's odds of being raped are 1 in 5....yet fear of sharks is seen as rational while being cautious of men is seen as misandry."
The worst thing was, some guys in my year
(the prepubescent ones) found it funny.
I’m all for the occasional light-hearted joke about women in the kitchen
(actually I’m not, but I’m trying to appear jovial) but the fact that they
found rape statistics funny was appalling. The status got 97 ‘likes’ and ended up with 435 comments. This status, if nothing
else, proved to me how many people do actually care about this stuff. Another
surprising thing was not only the number
of people who commented on it, but the actual people who did the commenting. Of
course, there were the typical ‘feminist-girls’ (me and a few others) but also
a number of girls who, until now, had never spoken out about this topic or made
it obvious to anyone how much they cared. I also got quite a few messages from
girls too. Even if they weren’t brave enough to publicly comment, it had
stirred something inside (probably anger and disgust) and that was what made me
know all the notifications and hassle had been worth it.
Sorry for the rant, but I’m not quite
finished. I’ve actually had to save half of my notes for this post for another
day because sending you to sleep is not the aim.
Or maybe it is. Mwa ha ha.
One of the quotes from the ‘Women Of The
Year’ awards was from a blogger, Ella Woodward. It went a bit (exactly) like
this, “You need to find one thing you care about. It doesn’t matter what that
one thing is, because if it’s something that you have a passion for, other
people will feel that and connect.”
Ella’s blog is deliciouslyella.com btdubz.
As you can probably tell, I took that quote
to heart when writing this post. I realized that the one thing I’m really
passionate about is advocating equality, particularly centered round gender and
social justice. I know I’m young, and that all sounds pretty pretentious but
I’m fairly sure that’s what I want to do with my life.
Please don’t ask me what job I want to do,
or where I see myself in 10 years because I don’t know. Remember I’m still the
15 year old (except a few months older) whose only current life ambition is to
own an angel delight factory.
Another quote I loved was “Girls’ and
women’s lives have been so confined. What an extraordinary world it would be if
everyone’s potential could be realized.” from Jude Kelly, the artistic director
at Southbank Centre. I’m well aware I haven’t experienced much in my life, and
that so many women have had to suffer and fight through injustice that I
couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but there’s still such a long way to go on
the road to equality. I’m so hopeful that our generation will take a few steps
along that road instead of just sitting there basking in mediocrity. But this
will only happen if the people who keep quiet about these things say something
and make a stand. Sorry for the clichés but that’s the truth. If we are relying
on the amazing women who made history to somehow rise from the dead and do it
again, it’s time to wake up.
So, in fewer words, that’s what a lot of my
posts will be about from now on. There will obviously still be the ridiculously
long ramblings and gushing over fake flowers and pink glittery things, but
along with that will be some 21st century feminism.
I hope you guys can still relate to the
things I talk about (plenty more embarrassing stories to come) and that you
take something from my badly worded rants. I’m not optimistic enough to say
you’ll be inspired but hopefully, as well as enjoying laughing at my mistakes,
you’ll also be able to support me as I struggle through college as a 16 year
old feminist with an unhealthy addiction to cheesy American TV programmes and
the colour pink.
“I would love to see men and women be a lot
less fearful of each other’s power and more trusting.” – Alice Feinstein
(Editor of Woman’s Hour)
Wednesday, 3 September 2014
Paperchase Vs. WHSmith
It is official! I have spread my pastel pink, glittery wings and moved to Bristol.
I wish I could say it was for university or because 'I really feel like that's where I'm, like, going to, like, find myself....like' but I basically just followed my parents as that is what 16 year olds with no source of income or real life direction generally do. I would never have the guts to live somewhere where my mum wasn't readily on hand to buy me Quorn ham and to dish out steaming plates of criticism in the form of 'motherly advice'. I like to think of it as tough love (someone please adopt me).
I got lost in the middle of Bristol today and the bus driver confused me and I shouted at my mum and she swore at me and I cried and she cried and the bus driver cried and the whole city of Bristol cried*.
*If anyone has any knowledge of Bristol, please help me.
So, Bristol. I have officially lived here for 4 days now and still get confused as to what road I live on. It seems to be a common thing in Bristol for roads to be called the same name even though they're all very close to each other. It's frustrating and confusing, especially when I'm trying to get a bus and there are three bus stops on, according to their names, the same road. Also, the online timetable says my bus comes every twenty minutes but the timetable at the bus stop says it comes every hour and a half. So I had just started walking back to my flat (because who waits 53 minutes for a bus?) and, of course the bus comes sailing round the corner, singing a happy tune, as I desperately run to the bus stop and then proceed to mutter expletives at the bus timetable as I wait for the next bus*.
*I refused to leave the stop, just in case another off-the-charter bus wanted to make a surprise appearance.
I feel like I'm not portraying Bristol, or at least its public transport network, in the best light. I will list some cool things about it.
1. The shops. Maybe I lived in Nottingham for so long I was immune to its many commercial perks but I swear there are like three times as many shops here. If this was a fashion blog, maybeeee I'd do a post about what I got bought today but it's not and you guys don't want to read that.
2. The grass! Everywhere I look there is grass (as in the green stuff that grows in the ground not the widely-used illegal drug). Literally, the parks make me want to do exercise and be cute + independent and have a picnic-for-one whilst reading a Vogue magazine and instagram-ing the whole thing.
3. The cute little boutiques and individual shops. I saw a hair salon for kids today with little mini planes as seats and it was SO CUTE. Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute*.
*I use this word a lot. Get used to it. Love it.
I have ran out of things but I think that is a pretty impressive list after only four days of living here. There's also stuff I dislike such as: the accent (hopefully I'll get used to it), the water (it tastes like bicarbonate of soda), the confusing road name thing (sort it out Bristol council people) and lastly, but not least, the lack of stationery shops. In Nottingham, you literally step out of your door and there is a new Paperchase doing a lap dance on your car whilst WHSmith heckles. Honestly, Nottingham loves its stationery.
So hopefully this has given you a teeny idea of what Bristol (and its grass) is like and how little I know about its ridiculous bus system.
I wish I could say it was for university or because 'I really feel like that's where I'm, like, going to, like, find myself....like' but I basically just followed my parents as that is what 16 year olds with no source of income or real life direction generally do. I would never have the guts to live somewhere where my mum wasn't readily on hand to buy me Quorn ham and to dish out steaming plates of criticism in the form of 'motherly advice'. I like to think of it as tough love (someone please adopt me).
I got lost in the middle of Bristol today and the bus driver confused me and I shouted at my mum and she swore at me and I cried and she cried and the bus driver cried and the whole city of Bristol cried*.
*If anyone has any knowledge of Bristol, please help me.
So, Bristol. I have officially lived here for 4 days now and still get confused as to what road I live on. It seems to be a common thing in Bristol for roads to be called the same name even though they're all very close to each other. It's frustrating and confusing, especially when I'm trying to get a bus and there are three bus stops on, according to their names, the same road. Also, the online timetable says my bus comes every twenty minutes but the timetable at the bus stop says it comes every hour and a half. So I had just started walking back to my flat (because who waits 53 minutes for a bus?) and, of course the bus comes sailing round the corner, singing a happy tune, as I desperately run to the bus stop and then proceed to mutter expletives at the bus timetable as I wait for the next bus*.
*I refused to leave the stop, just in case another off-the-charter bus wanted to make a surprise appearance.
I feel like I'm not portraying Bristol, or at least its public transport network, in the best light. I will list some cool things about it.
1. The shops. Maybe I lived in Nottingham for so long I was immune to its many commercial perks but I swear there are like three times as many shops here. If this was a fashion blog, maybeeee I'd do a post about what I got bought today but it's not and you guys don't want to read that.
2. The grass! Everywhere I look there is grass (as in the green stuff that grows in the ground not the widely-used illegal drug). Literally, the parks make me want to do exercise and be cute + independent and have a picnic-for-one whilst reading a Vogue magazine and instagram-ing the whole thing.
3. The cute little boutiques and individual shops. I saw a hair salon for kids today with little mini planes as seats and it was SO CUTE. Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute*.
*I use this word a lot. Get used to it. Love it.
I have ran out of things but I think that is a pretty impressive list after only four days of living here. There's also stuff I dislike such as: the accent (hopefully I'll get used to it), the water (it tastes like bicarbonate of soda), the confusing road name thing (sort it out Bristol council people) and lastly, but not least, the lack of stationery shops. In Nottingham, you literally step out of your door and there is a new Paperchase doing a lap dance on your car whilst WHSmith heckles. Honestly, Nottingham loves its stationery.
So hopefully this has given you a teeny idea of what Bristol (and its grass) is like and how little I know about its ridiculous bus system.
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