Blogs

• Libby Copeland on why fashion models keep getting younger [Slate]
• We Are All S.E. Cupp, the Conservative Pundit Bullied by Hustler says Lindsay Beyerstein [In These Times]. If you agree, sign the change.org petition.
• Remember that racial discrimination lawsuit against the Bachelor/ette franchise? Bitch contributor Jenn Pozner breaks it down. [Daily Beast]
• No one knows what's next for Community, but Arturo R. García has some thoughts on the show's depiction of geekdom and race. [Racialicious]
• We haven't heard it yet, but the new radio show Cabinet of Wonders sounds amaaazing. [NPR]
• A Gallup poll released this week showed that the percentage of Americans who identify as “pro-choice” is at an all-time low of 47 percent, while 50 percent identify as “pro-life.” Jessica Valenti wonders, "Does it really matter?" [The Nation]
• If you haven't been reading Bitch contributor Anne Helen Peterson's "Scandals of Classic Hollywood" series, this entry on Marlene Dietrich is a good place to start. [The Hairpin]
• Once you see the cast of Game of Thrones out of character, you can't un-see it. [Vulture]

Back in the day, infants of all genders wore white frocks—white, because it could be bleached of any infant spewage, and frocks, because it's easier to wriggle a baby into a dress than into britches. Franklin Delano Roosevelt's 1884 toddler photo depicts our dignified to-be president sitting primly in a white skirt and patent leather shoes.  

Eventually, parents began dressing their infants in "the colors of springtime," but it wasn't until World War I that those colors became gender signifiers. In June 1918, the Earshaw Infants' Department instructed parents, “The generally accepted rule is pink for the boys, and blue for the girls. The reason is that pink, being a more decided and stronger color, is more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, is prettier for the girl.” 

Muscio’s latest, published last year, picks up where her classic Cunt: A Declaration of Independence left off. Rose is divided into two sections: Violence and Love. It's written in Muscio’s standard conversational yet highly informed tone, touching on history, culture, and anecdotes from her own life, seamlessly sewing it all together in a beautiful, diverse patchwork quilt. “Violence” talks about violence in our culture, engrained as it is, and speaks much about rape and safety.