The premise is deceptively simple: A group of girlfriends reunite on a Maine camping trip for the first time in years. They come across three military men, long-ago acquaintances from school, and the groups merge for a lakeshore party. Alcohol is imbibed, and one of the girls heads off to the woods with one of the men.
"The world opens its arms to a pretty girl," says the father of the lazy beautiful Cloey, the main character of dreamy new film City Baby. It's true—the world does offer plenty of opportunities to Cloey (played by Cora Benesh, who co-wrote the film with director David Morgan) but the sometimes-model rolls her eyes at all of them, preferring to drink PBR down by the river and feel sorry for herself.
City Baby is a loving portrait of an obnoxious culture.
This week’s episode of the cartoon Adventure Time (titled “The Suitor”) revolved around a young man named Braco courting our favorite science fanatic, Princess Bubblegum. By the end of the episode, Braco has been thoroughly rejected. In an environment where the endgame of most princess stories is love and marriage, this rejection, though not surprising (what with Braco being a guest character and Adventure Time being awesome), indicates Adventure Time's larger rejection of the toxic princess narrative that is worthy of attention.
Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't.
Dear Ms. Opinionated,
I am an outspoken feminist, my best friend from high school is decidedly not. Like, as in "living with her ultra-conservative, religious family until she marries because a young woman shouldn't be on her own not a feminist."
When I first picked up Nalo Hopkinson's The Chaos last summer, I thought, "Finally! A book with a young woman of color as the protagonist!" Of course, I've since learned that there are other dystopic novels with girls of color, but this hasn't ended my love forThe Chaos even after a second (and third) reading.
The Chaos isn't actually set in a dystopia. It's more of a post-apocalyptic world in which Toronto transforms from its usual racist, misogynist, able-ist normalcy to utter chaos, complete with hoodie-wearing sasquatches, escalators that ask questions about quantum physics, and Baba Yaga and her flying house.