I have spent an inordinate amount of time over the past couple of weeks mulling over what feminism means to me – and it’s all because of this post on A Practical Wedding. If you follow one link from this post, please make this the one. Maybe you’re not into the academic side of feminism (neither am I). Maybe you don’t think we even need feminsm anymore. Either way, this post – and especially the comments – are thought-provoking. Here are two of my favourite excerpts:
[From the post]
“I want all women to keep their last names. I don’t want women to use the language, “I kept my name,” but instead to use the language, “Neither of us changed our names.” I want women to pass on their last names to their children. I don’t want women who hyphenate to always allow their male partners to have their name go last. I’ve made those choices personally, I’ll defend them till I die. Beyond that, I’ll do everything I can to make those choices easier for others, and to help women see why this issue is so important.”
“I shave my legs and armpits, and by doing so I’m reinforcing the idea that women’s bodies are disgusting in their natural state and need to be modified in all sorts of ways to be appealing to men, whereas men’s bodies are generally ok as-is. I can’t say “I’m not doing it for men, I’m doing it for me because I like my legs smooth” because I’m aware that my own preference for smooth legs is simply an internalization of society’s demeaning norms about women’s bodies. And I won’t hide behind “choice” rhetoric because the women’s movement is not about freeing some women to make the choice to shave their legs (or change their names when they get married) and freeing other women to make other choices. It’s about eradicating the underlying objectification of women that supports the leg-shaving norm, which I’m implicitly supporting by shaving my legs.
I have to own that shaving my legs is not a feminist choice. But I don’t have to feel bad about it every day. And when I have kids and I can’t bear to explain to them why mommy has to take the hair off her legs and daddy doesn’t, maybe I’ll decide this is a fight I’m ready to take on.”
Here are the various levels of family dinner, according to Dinner: A Love Story
One of the first things I want to make when I get back to NZ: fried haloumi, a’la Hungry and Frozen
Chelsea Talks Smack on the anatomy of fucking up
Donna reminds us writers to stop undervaluing our work
Save Spend Splurge breaks down why she no longer wants to move to Portugal
Budget and the Beach lists some financial decisions she’s never regretted
I’m a bit backlogged on the blogging front, but rest assured that we’re chugging along on the road and loving it. I’ve been so privileged to meet some of my favourite bloggers and all going to plan will meet a few more on the West Coast. Happy weekends!