"Contrary to the fears of some pundits, the ascent of women does not portend the end of men. It offers a new beginning for both." So argues Stephanie Coontz in the New York Times most emailed article (as of this morning), "The Myth of Male Decline." Though polemics on the tanking of men as a gender abound these says, Coontz has some real talk—and some real data—to suggest there is a lot more to the "end of men" story.
Hardly known for being tasteful, Victoria's Secret hit a new low earlier this month with its "Sexy Little Geisha" lingerie. As Nina Jacinto put it on Racialicious, "It's the kind of overt racism masked behind claims of inspired fashion and exploring sexual fantasy that makes my skin crawl." This offensive cloud has a silver lining, however: Thanks to the power of the Internet and righteously pissed off consumers, the godawful bra, underwear, obi, and chopsticks(!?) set is no longer for sale.
Earlier today, Lady Gaga posted photos of herself in her underwear on her website with the caption: "Bulimia and anorexia since I was 15" and launched a new project encouraging fans to "make our flaws famous, and thus redefine the heinous."
Anything that pushes back against body snarking and encourages body diversity and acceptance is a good thing, obviously, but is Body Revolution resisting beauty standards or reinforcing them?
Ahem. I mean "Hello, distinguished readers of the Bitch community. Pleased to make your acquaintance. How do you do?" My name is Caitlin and this is my new blogging series, "Tales From The Crip." I hope you enjoy it and that we can be friends. Or at the very least, be frenemies who engage in some stimulating conversations.
Say what you will about Old Navy, its ad team knows their audience. They got the attention of late-twenty-early-thirtysomethings with a Blossom reunion, a 90210 reunion, and now they've brought America's Sweethearts: 1997 Edition to the small screen and crammed 'em inside of a boombox. That's right—Backstreet's Back!
Last month, Hooters launched a creepy ad campaign with the hopes of attracting women to its "delightfully tacky yet unrefined" chain of restaurants. Wondering how a "breastaurant" with a boob euphemism for a name plans on making women feel right at home? Yeah, same here.
Remember those BIC For Her pens that inspired hilarious customer reviews a while back? Well, they weren't the first pens to be marketed to small-handed, weak-fingered women.
In "Girlie Pens, Again? Why Ordinary Things Go Pink" Lisa Hix explores the reasons behind Pink Think, when "mid-century manufacturers realized that if you take an ordinary object, turn it pink, and put the word 'Lady' in front of the name, then you've created a product 'for women' that can be sold for more money."
When I was in elementary school, we played a game in P.E. where we basically just threw foam balls at targets. My mean gym teacher Ms. Heinz would make the girls stand closer to the targets than the boys, because presumably 8-year-old males have rocket arms or something while 8-year-old females need special accommodations just to get a nerf ball off the ground (not the case). I remember thinking, "Why do we girls need our own version of this dumb game when we could just play the one the boys are playing?" My thinking is similar, if gender-role-reversed, when it comes to MANteresting. Who needs a men-only, crappier version of Pinterest?
Maude Lebowski called. She wants her vagina art back.
Lest you think nothing good could come of this essentialist (only women with vaginas who have orgasms that come from sexual partners can be creative or experience feminine joy), privileged (Wolf recounts looking out from her "little cottage upstate," contemplating her vadge next to a "cold iron wood stove," and she is getting paid to write a book about it), prescriptive (ladies, if you want a partner who treats your vagina right that person best be familiar with "the Goddess Array"), cringe-worthy (see: "yoni massage") tome, think again: Ariel Levy has written a smart and hilarious review and you should read it.