The headline alone is enough to bring on an eye-roll headache: "Are Modern Men Manly Enough?" And the head-desk-inducing subheaders will only make it worse: "Where are the Meat and Potato Men?" "Rediscover the Don Draper Within" and so on. The Times is no stranger to trumped-up trend pieces, and the photo accompanying this article, of a man getting a—gasp!—pedicure, says it all ("it all" being: this is a gender panic piece because WHY ARE MEN GOING TO BEAUTY PARLORS? Real quote from this series: "We don't need to see you [men] in the nail salon; you have the barbershop."). Frankly, with all of the hand-wringing and gender policing, this New York Times opinion piece reads like, well, like it was written about women. After all, women are usually the ones whose very being is called into question by the mainstream media, especially in relation to men (Are you pleasing him in bed? Is your job a turnoff? Are you womanly enough?). But just as there's no one "real woman," the notion of a "real man" is bogus. Not that the Times agrees.
Though Monster High claims to be about celebrating differences (tagline: "Freaky is fabulous") the dolls themselves are very similar—not only to one another, but to their blond older cousin. Turns out the newest Monster High doll, which debuts this week at Comic-Con 2012, offers fans more of the same.
Well, at least she and her friends can share clothes.
Alison McDonald merges comedy, female heroines, and the single black experience in the webisodes "She Got Problems" and "Alison is Having Really Bad Day." Her videos, which are "trailers" for a complete series, portray the strong black female protagonist that is largely absent from pop culture. Currently studying with the hilarious Upright Citizens Brigade and boasting an impressive résumé (writer for Everybody Hates Chris, Nurse Jackie, American Dad!, a Fulbright Scholar, and graduate of NYU's Tisch School of the Arts and Columbia University), McDonald not only writes and directs, but also acts and can without a doubt carry a tune.
Did you know that Disney does weddings? Of course you did, even if only intuitively. But it goes beyond a simple extravagant wedding at Disneyland, Disney World, or Epcot Center. Disney takes the whole "be a princess on your wedding day" thing all the way, having developed a comprehensive wedding industry around its fleet of princess characters. Pause and think about the far-reaching, complex implications of this.
The Cinderella Gown, designed for women who want to emulate a woman who had a really rough childhood before getting rescued by a rich guy at a party.
One thing I found in planning my own wedding, and in being semi-privy to other queer weddings, was that the very fact of queerness and/or same-sex-ness sort of short circuited everyone's conscious and unconscious cultural assumptions. It's almost as though since the expectation of adhering to a traditional template wasn't there in the first place, it opened the playing field to a real sense of freedom of expression, experimentation, and individuality. YAY!
"Everypony, without further ado we'd like to introduce the creator of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. Lauren Faust!"
4,000 fans leap from their chairs. The predominantly male crowd claps and whistles and screams Faust's name, the auditorium echoing with their cheers.
When Lauren Faust developed the idea for a new iteration of Hasbro's animated show My Little Pony, the last place she thought it would land her was here, on a stage in front of thousands of screaming men. She surveys the audience at Meadowlands Expo Center and covers her face, overwhelmed by the fans' joy and adoration.
Bronies—bros who love My Little Pony—have flocked to New York from around the country and the world to attend Bronycon, their semiannual convention.
Talking sex—especially about the Kamasutra—is progressive, but discussions of the political economy of the text don't get the same pedestal. How can I claim and embrace queer liberation (as much as I may want to), when it silences someone else?