“This book by its lonesome won’t give you the truth. Truth is what happens when your cumulative voices fill in the breaks, provide the remixes, and rework the chorus.”

So begins Joan Morgan’s book on her experiences and thoughts as a hip hop feminist. This resonated with me, as I often struggle with writing a blog entirely based on my own opinions, beliefs and voice. I often call for guest posts because I think the most valuable discourse is one in which there is a plurality of voices.

A couple of months ago I suggested my social justice book club read “When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost.” Not only was it an engaging read but throughout the book I found myself scribbling down page numbers and quotes whenever Morgan writes something particularly spot-on (which, if you take a look at my notebook, is every other page!).

I recently took the book out of the library again so that I could return to these pages and share them with readers of this blog. If you haven’t read this book, I couldn’t recommend it enough. It’s an accessible, often informal text – in fact, it even led one of my friends to realizing she is a feminist. That’s powerful stuff.

Morgan discusses being a black woman and a feminist (these are not mutually exclusive identities, she argues), the misogyny in hip hop lyrics and videos, and the value of sisterhood – among a myriad of other topics that are still relevant a decade after she wrote the book.

I’m kicking myself because I didn’t write a more thorough review months ago when the material was fresh in my mind so I’m going to quote a few brief excerpts from her book to give you a taste of my favorite parts:

“Are we no longer good feminists…if the A.M’s wee hours sometimes leave us tearful and frightened that achieving all our mothers wanted us to – great educations, careers, financial and emotional independence—has made us wholly undesirable to the men who are supposed to be our counterparts? …And when one accuses you of being completely indecipherable there’s really nothing to say ‘cuz even you’re not sure how you can be a feminist and insist he ‘respect you as a woman, treat you like a lady, and make you feel safe – like a li’l girl.’” p.58

“We are the daughters of feminist privilege. The gains of the Feminist Movement (the efforts of black, white, Latin, Asian and Native American women) had a tremendous impact on our lives – so much we often take it for granted. We walk through the world with a sense of entitlement that women of our mothers’ generation could not begin to fathom.” p.59

“More than any other generation before us, we need a feminism committed to ‘keeping it real.’ We need a voice like our music – one that samples and layers many voices, injects its sensibilities into the old and flips it into something new, provocative, and powerful.” p. 62

“Similarly sistas have to confront the ways we’re complicit in our own oppression. Sad to say it, but many of the ways in which men exploit our images and sexuality in hip-hop is done with our permission and cooperation. We need to be…accountable to each other…To acknowledge this doesn’t deny our victimization but it does raise the critical issue of whose responsibility it is to end our oppression. As a feminist, I believe it is too great a responsibility to leave to men.” p.78-79

“I know that ours has never been an easy relationship. Sistahood ain’t sainthood. That nonsense about if women had power there would be no wars is feminist delusion at best. We might not get down with guns and bombs but when it comes to emotional carnage we can be quite brutal with ours. Ain’t a black woman alive who hasn’t experienced the jealousy, duplicity, backstabbing, and competitiveness sistas are capable of. This is especially true when racism and sexism’s got us convinced that there just ain’t enough happiness to go around…

That being said, know that when it comes to sistahood, I am deadly serious about my commitment to you…As long as inequality and oppression remain constants in our lives, sistahood is critical to our mutual survival.” p. 231-232

Source:
Morgan, J. (1999). When chickenheads come home to roost. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster.

1.) In your blog, there is a post about why you became a feminist. Can you briefly explain your beliefs on pro-feminism? How are you active in this role as a feminist?

I’m pro-feminist because I believe it is a cause that a) is highly relevant to all of our lives and b) as a movement it gets a lot of negative attention and is often misunderstood. I encounter a fair amount of people in my life who have major misconceptions about what it is to be a feminist. They say things like, “Feminists are angry, irrational women,” or “Feminists want women to have power over men.” This simply isn’t true. For the most part, feminists (though, like any movement/identity, feminism covers a wide spectrum of beliefs and attitudes) seek equality between the sexes. Women (including transwomen) have less privilege than men, in both developed and developing countries. Feminism, in my opinion, is about working to create societies in which both women and men share the same privileges and opportunities.

I am active in promoting feminism daily. I live in a collective house in which we actively seek to create a safe space for all. We do not condone oppressive language or behaviors, including sexist remarks or attitudes. If someone says a sexist comment, for example, I will politely explain to them that their comment made me uncomfortable and will explain why, using both personal examples and bringing in a broader context. I also have a feminist blog in which I discuss feminism and how it applies to my life and the world around me. So far I’ve gotten numerous emails from women around the world telling me that it has been very beneficial to find a website that speaks to them and their experiences. In these ways I work towards “owning” my feminist identity and sharing it articulately with others.

2.) What do you think about anti-feminists and their perceptions (or misconceptions) of feminism? How would you argue any of those?

I encounter anti-feminists more often than one might imagine. There are generally two types. One is a person who is prejudiced and/or misogynist in their beliefs (mostly men but occasionally women as well). When I encounter this type I try not to engage too much with their beliefs because sometimes you have to pick your battles. I find that arguing with someone who is close-minded can be an emotionally draining endeavor.

The other type are people who believe in feminist values but reject the feminist movement. Their misconceptions generally include the following:

“American women don’t need feminism anymore. We can vote and hold any job we’d like. Why do you still care about feminism?”
To this I explain that feminism is very much relevant. I cite examples like the wage disparity between male and female workers and instances of aversive sexism that are pervasive in everyday life.

“Feminists are man-hating bitches. I’m rational and love men, so I don’t want to be associated with feminism.”
To this I explain that I, too, have men in my life that I love — family members, friends and partners. Feminism is very inclusive of men – the point is to create a world in which we are equal and connected to one another, rather than pull one group of people down to better another. Furthermore, it is inherently sexist to refer to passionate, assertive women as bitches. So often women who are political and have opinions are labelled (and therefore devalued) as “bitches,” “irrational,” and “angry”.

3.) Do you believe that there are any not-so-positive consequences of anti-feminism? If so, what are they?

One of the negative consequences of anti-feminism is apathy. It is hard to effect real change as a feminist if many people either misconstrue my intentions and ideas, or simply don’t see feminism as relevant to their own lives.

Anti-feminism can also cause feminists to “burn out.” It can be very frustrating and tiresome to constantly defend one’s beliefs to other people. However, I do what I can to avoid burning out and maintaining my resolve. To do so, I try to surround myself with a support system of feminist friends and family (both men and women) who I can vent to or look to for advice.

4.) What do you think about the historical timeline of women’s rights and how it may affect equal rights today (equality in the workplace, suffrage, etc.)?

There have been distinct waves of feminism in America. We are currently in the third wave and I see it as having a different set of goals and values from the first two. I think the first wave was crucial in that it secured women’s right to vote and granted women official personhood in the public sphere (in conjunction with the abolition movement which achieved personhood for black men). The second wave was also important (in conjunction with the Civil Rights movement) in achieving protection for minority groups (it is interesting to note that women are the largest “minority group” in the world).

Today we face a different set of problems. Most glaring to me is that the success of the first two waves have almost lulled contemporary women into a sense of complacency. As a whole we’ve made so many strides that some women (so-called “anti-feminists”, or “non-feminists”) believe that the “fight” is over. However there are still many instances of sexism. For example, we live in what some term a “rape culture.” There are lots of problems with how we as a society deal with sexual violence and domestic violence. There is still a wage disparity between men and women. Young women are still dealing with body image issues, slut shaming and live in a web of double standards that can be damaging to their self-esteem and autonomy. Etcetera.

5.) What are some issues today that concern gender equality and how do feminists like yourself wish they would change?

(I think I covered some of this in the above paragraph, so I’ll keep my answer brief)

I would like to see a society in which young women can dress and act and speak however they choose without fear of judgment or shame. I would like to see less regulation of women’s sexuality (i.e. no slut shaming, more positive role models, healthier attitudes towards our bodies). I’d like to see more women in power.

I think capitalism also fuels a lot of anti-feminist sentiment through commercials, problematic images in the media, corporate interests and so on. It supports a system in which there are the “haves” and the “have nots.” I think all oppressions (race, sex, etc) are interconnected and therefore as long as we live in a country that is based on inequality on a basic level (who holds the wealth vs who doesn’t) we cannot hope to overcome sexism, racism, and other forms of prejudice.

6.) What do you think about the idea that both pro-feminism and anti-feminism causes a confusion regarding gender roles? Do you think some women sacrifice their individuality for what society says they should conform to?

Excuse me if I’m misinterpreting the question. Essentially, most decisions we make are influenced by society in some way. Even when it comes down to shaving our armpits (something many American women do without pause for thought). In the 1920′s, I believe, Gilette ran a very successful series of ad campaigns in which it told women that in order to be “clean” and “neat” and desirable to men, they should shave their armpits — using a Gilette razor, naturally. Since then, shaving one’s armpits has become second nature to most American women. When you start growing body hair, your mother or some female figure in your life will explain gently that women should shave and will buy you your first (often pink!) razor. If you miss a day, you might encounter a lover or a friend who will tell you “oops, looked like you missed a spot!” That is just one example of how society has trained us to redefine how we see our bodies (hairless rather than hairy) and has trained our loved ones to aid in the regulation of our bodies.

Feminists and anti-feminists alike are “victims” of this societal groupthink. I think the difference is that feminists are more aware of the influence society has on their decision-making and actively work to resist such groupthink. Anti-feminists, perhaps, are either blithely unaware or have convinced themselves that it’s okay.

I’m a choice feminist, which means I believe everyone deserves the autonomy to think and act as they desire as long as it does not injure or offend others (thus robbing them of their autonomy). Therefore, if a woman decides to shave her armpits, I do not think there is anything wrong with it. In fact, I shave my armpits. The only difference? Every time I do, I acknowledge that this is a choice highly influenced by society and capitalism, but have decided that it’s what I want to do anyway.

This is also true in my personal relationships. If I’m expounding on, say, the wage gap in the American workplace and my close friend (or boyfriend, or family member) disagrees that there is such a gap, or argues that wage inequality is irrelevant or unimportant, my feathers get ruffled. Justifiably or not, I can’t seem to let these disagreements slide.

I’d like to think I’m open-minded and capable of thinking logically, and even dialectically, about important issues. However, my feelings, experiences and gender studies background generally get in the way of this.

The concept of feminism has always been something I put in the “worth my energy” category. In the past, when someone close to me claimed they weren’t a feminist, that tended to irk the crap out of me. I used to get passionate and make grandiose statements to the tune of “how in the world are we even friends!?”

But then I got older, wiser, and chilled the fuck out a little. I gained the insight that it’s not nearly as important to surround yourself with people who agree with everything you say, value, or believe. A little challenge and some free discourse to sharpen your debating chops: these are good qualities to have in relationships.

So I thought I was over it.

Wrong.

Last night, fueled by some red wine and drowsiness, I single-handedly turned a delightful evening with my new boyfriend into a (briefly) high-stakes situation in which I miiight have bandied around sentences like “if you’re not a feminist, that’s a deal-breaker” and other nonsense.

Don’t worry, readers, it all ends well. I’m not completely without reason and amended the above statement to some degree. However, all today I was left with the mental questions: “Does everyone in my life need to be a feminist?” “Why do I care?” “Is it enough that people in my life agree with most of what I believe?” And on.

So I got to thinking — and yes, I’m uncomfortably aware of how much I sound like Carrie-fucking-Bradshaw right now — about some answers to the above questions, given the fact that I’m 23 and I’d like to outgrow my knee-jerk tendency towards outrage.

“Does everyone in my life need to be a feminist?”

The answer, truthfully, is no. Would it be ideal? Yes. Is it realistic? Not really. Maybe someday.

Which leads to…

“Why do I care?”

I care because I spend a lot of time feeling like Cassandra from Ancient Greek mythology. I’m a privileged white chick soap-boxing her theories and thoughts to anyone who will listen (read: this blog) and often, no one listens.

After years of explaining why I think sexism is still a pressing issue to women and men alike, I think my “passionate responses” to anyone who isn’t a feminist can be attributed to the following:

A) Frustration. B) Passion. C) An unbending sense of personal integrity. D) The desire to be understood, especially by those closest to me.

I think I can’t really be understood without first understanding feminism. Therein lies my “fear of the non-feminist.” If someone doesn’t understand my struggle — and the struggle of others around the globe due to their sex, gender, class, etc — I think I’m a little terrified of what exactly does go on in that person’s head. Maybe it can be attributed to an overactive imagination, but sometimes I feel this expansive, endless capacity for empathy. I’ve heard others’ stories; I’ve walked a hard path of my own. Knowing what I have been through makes me feel that much more aware that everyone has a unique path they walk. So to live our lives without empathy, without giving validity to others’ stories and feelings, without giving validity to the fact that race and sex and all those other outward indicators of “otherness” do matter, and matter on a scale that we do not give nearly enough credit to — that is what I fear.

So, given the importance feminism holds in my life: “Is it enough that people in my life agree with most of what I believe?”

In the end, I suppose this is what I should be grateful for — that I have people who care about me and support my endeavors in spite of their divergent personal beliefs. In turn, I should be supportive of their endeavors and values and opinions. I can learn from them, just as I hope they will learn to understand the feminism I represent.

It’s a complicated movement, and I have many thoughts about it. I thought I’d share my insights with you all [author's note: this was originally an email to my family] since my uncle asked for someone in the US to comment on it and I think there’s a lot that could be cleared up about what it is and what it isn’t. This is by no means comprehensive.

What the Occupy movement is:

The occupation is comprised of people who are frustrated with the status quo: capitalism, corporate greed, corporate interests and money running the country, ineffective progressive politicians, the wars and war industry, the fact that college graduates (like myself) are often faced with meager job opportunities.

For example: in order to pay rent, pay off my loans and put food on my table — with no financial help from either parent — I work three jobs. All are part-time, because no one is willing to hire me full-time. Two are temporary. I do not know, month to month, whether two of my jobs will continue or not. This is what I face as a graduate from a well-known liberal arts college. Most of my friends have either gone straight into graduate school (racking up more debt), are unemployed and living at home, or barely scraping by, living on next to nothing.

For the above reasons this movement might appear to be a youth movement, but it is not that simple: veterans for peace, and others of all ages and backgrounds have joined. This movement is attempting to be non-hierarchical; there is direct democracy, consent-based decision-making and anti-oppression training going on at the camps (i.e. people working together to reject racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, ageism, etc).

This movement is about creating community and making people realize that they’re not alone. We are the 99%, after all.

Fun fact: I’ve been to both the Occupy Boston and Occupy Philadelphia campsites. I’ve heard from the trenches of Occupy Wall Street. At each camp there is a library, a medical tent, different tents dedicated to different faiths (I saw a sukkah at Occupy Philly), art, comedy, workshops, homeless people, students, families, the list goes on. It’s amazing.

What the Occupy movement isn’t:

Chaotic. Sure, the occupy movement does not seem cohesive. Many protests start with a specific goal (for example: returning funding to Planned Parenthood) and the narrowness of that goal attracts maybe dozens or a hundred people who care about that goal. Here we see no goal attracting thousands and tens of thousands of people.

But what does the movement expect to change if it doesn’t have a goal?

That is something that I find personally frustrating, to be sure. But I have come to appreciate that an unspoken goal of the movement is this: to get a voice. To show others that we (the people) have a voice. The movement has so far been highly successful in this goal.

I recently walked down the street in Harvard Square holding a sign my friend wanted to bring to a march. Six or seven different people (of different ages, races, genders) approached me and asked me about Occupy Boston, about the Noam Chomsky lecture, about my views. They shared with me their views. I walk in Harvard Square all the time and have never been approached by anyone. This movement is opening up dialogue among strangers. That’s a beautiful thing.

What do I think, really?

This movement is powerful and it is absolutely crippled by lack of focus, leverage. It’s a contradiction. It’s necessary and it’s the first step of many. Better to support those who are in it, rather than tear them down with judgment, misunderstanding and condescension.

In the fullness of time, I expect the solidarity, community and dialogue that has been sparked by Occupy Wall Street to be called upon by future protests, organizing efforts and policy-making. What is happening now is bigger than a couple dozen tents.

—–

Addendum:Thoughts on police:

The Occupy movement has been peaceful. Yet there have been 2500 arrests (unlawful, for the most part) made in the month that the Occupation movement has been ongoing. We need to look around us and realize the truth: it is illegal to peacefully protest in the United States. The powers that be (all corporations, most government officials, some of the rich) want us to shut up and go away – at the expense of our first amendment rights.

I’ve attached some video links below – they are potentially disturbing but they are of the Oakland police last night in response to the Oakland occupation movement. This is the America we live in today.

(2:00 min in is where he addresses the Occupy Wall Street movement)

Further reading:
Barbara Ehrenreich on homelessness and the Occupation movement

Occupy Wall Street. There are plenty of voices being heard on the subject, many of whom with much more clout, experience and wisdom. I leave the analysis to them (see links below).

But what does this peaceful protest mean to me?

I see hope. We want change but due to the pitfalls of his office, Obama has not provided us with that hope, or that change. I stand by him because I believe he’s doing what any progressive realistically could in that position. The problem isn’t President Obama but the constraints placed on him by the system.

The problem is the corporatocracy we live in. This is no democracy. We cannot even protest peacefully in the streets. We do not have freedom when innocent young women get kettled and maced by police officers. When we still have the death penalty in many of our states. When the voice of 99% of Americans is drowned out by the 1% who control the money and the media.

So I will be peacefully occupying Boston in solidarity with those in NYC, and in solidarity with similar protests across the country. This is our time. To quote another,

“If not us, who? If not now, when?”

Warning: the above video is upsetting.

Want to help out with Occupy Boston? Spread the word! Come to the first General Assembly meeting tonight at 7:30 at Boston Commons. Remember security culture, remember to be peaceful and lawful. The cops will, naturally, be there.

Chomsky speaks out in support of Wall Street protests

Why I Was Maced at the Wall Street Protests

Occupy Wall Street rediscovers the radical imagination

President Obama’s Silence on Troy Davis Execution Emboldens Young Progressives

I Was Maced

By becoming a feminist, I found my voice.

Why am I a feminist?

It’s a dirty word these days. When you identify as feminist, people perceive you a certain way. Instead of others understanding that I am passionate about women’s rights, I’ve received various responses ranging from “Why are you so worked up over this? You can vote and you have the same opportunities as men in this country” to “Women are equal now, I don’t see the need for feminism.” Hey, I’m the first to admit that women in the United States are better off than women in say, Afghanistan, where several girls recently got acid thrown in their faces for attending school. Yes, I can vote and I do have many opportunities in life. Yet, there is still so much work to be done to improve the lives of women in this country and in others.

When I was little, no matter how progressive and open-minded my parents were, I still saw the world as white-washed. I had no idea the Gulf War was going on, and when Princess Diana died, I was shocked. That memory stands out to me as the first time I really understood that life isn’t always pretty. When 9/11 occurred, my entire world was shaken up. I was only thirteen at the time, and when I watched a man hurtle himself dozens of stories to the ground all I could do was cry and look at my mother helplessly. I realized that no one has all the answers.

Around this time I was a complete tomboy. I shunned the frilly dresses of my early childhood and wrote essays about how much boys “suck.” I scorned the notion of dieting and thought to myself that I would never succumb to such silly ideas. The idea that skinny women depicted in magazines negatively affect women’s body image was laughable to me.

So, imagine my dismay several years later, when I looked at myself in a mirror and thought, “My thighs are too big. I wish I was taller. I hate myself.” Where were these thoughts coming from? How had I been sucked in by society’s standards of beauty when I’d been ignoring them all along? I’d been saturated by unattainable (read: photo-shopped) images of beauty just like the rest of my generation, and I was finally aware of how inadequate I felt.

I felt pretty betrayed. How come my mother and father never told me that women are so thoroughly objectified? I started thinking that this was some secret that I’d stumbled upon, and my parents just didn’t know to warn me. Of course, now I realize we’re all in on the secret – but not everyone thinks it’s a problem. To a certain extent, we all accept how society is. Boys like cars and trucks and girls like Barbies and make-up. A woman’s looks are more important than her brains or personality. Men can be assertive and ambitious, but the same qualities in a woman are perceived as abrasive and conniving.

Think I’m making this up? Here are a few quotes from the (much-loved) men in my life:

My father: “You can’t be a pallbearer for your grandmother’s funeral, you’re not strong enough.” (I insisted and we found out quickly that my “lack of strength” wasn’t a problem).

My uncle to his daughter: “I’d rather you’d be gay than fat. But really, I hope you’re neither.” (Two years since writing this post, my cousin came out and he was more than supportive.)

My boyfriend: “Women’s bodies are just more beautiful than men’s are.” (Context: this was said in the middle of a conversation of why women are more objectified than men, and why half-naked images of women are far more pervasive in television, ads, and so on).

Here are my responses, some of which I said to them, some of which they would just never understand:

To my father: “This is completely unfair. Just because pallbearers are typically male, the coffin will not be too heavy for me to help carry. This means so much to me and I can’t stand that you are refusing to let me do something like this merely because I’m female.”

To my uncle: “Your daughter is beautiful, intelligent, and charming. I know that you love her, but you shouldn’t base that love on sexual orientation and body weight.”

To my boyfriend: “I see that women are beautiful, but I am a bisexual woman who happens to find the male body to be equally exciting and arousing. Don’t I deserve to see images of attractive men too? Furthermore, are you saying all women are beautiful or just the skinny, tanned ones on television? Should the price of our beauty be objectification and hyper-sexuality?”

These are three men that I trust and love. It’s just so warped that they can be so blind. Through their own male privilege, they cannot comprehend the effect their words have on the women they love, nor do they realize that this is just a microcosm of the problems women face today. I must also admit that even though what they said may have hurt me or women close to me, they are products of society. The root of the problem is society. It’s the men who perpetrate violence against women. It’s the countries who deny women the right to an education or equal rights. It’s the governments who oppress half of their population based on gender.

This is why I’m a feminist. This is why the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes is reading Elizabeth Wurtzel on a rainy day, and feeling like she’s reading my mind and putting it to paper. This is why I write this blog and read others. I can’t live in this society any more the way it is, but it’s not like I can move to another country and make it all better. I am female no matter where I go. No matter how I dress or who I date. The world treats me and the other 3 billion women inhabiting this planet as the inferior sex.

That’s fucked up.

There is hope, though. By becoming a feminist, I found my voice. I discovered an entire canon of female writers who argue passionately for the feminist cause. Feminist thinkers such as Catherine A. MacKinnon have become women I look up to. Before I discovered feminism, I was raised to think women can be anything and do everything. After feminism, I realized that women should be able to be anything and to do everything, and when they are denied the right to self-determination and freedom from discrimination, someone has to speak out on their behalf. As a marginalized group (the largest in the world), women are not afforded the same opportunities as men. That has to change. We can make that change.

I know that sometimes it seems like all feminists do is bitch and moan about how unfair living in a patriarchy is. To a certain extent, yes, I do complain. However, I do believe there is a time and place to speak out for the feminist cause. When someone makes a misogynist joke, you don’t have to stay silent. When someone makes a disparaging comment about a woman’s appearance, you don’t have to pretend you didn’t hear. Why should we stay silent when we have been silenced for centuries? Even if you don’t call yourself a feminist, if you believe women deserve equal rights, equal opportunity, the right to self-determination and freedom from discrimination, guess what? You’re a feminist. So why deny that fact? Is it because feminists are “angry”, “stubborn”, and “aggressive”? Or is it because you know that feminists are actually passionate, opinionated and outspoken, but because of their gender are labeled “angry”, “stubborn”, and so on?

I’m a feminist and I’m not afraid to stand up for what I believe in. If that makes me “angry,” “emotional,” or “man-hating,” then so be it. That’s the least of my problems.

So why am I a feminist? Because I see hope in the feminist cause. Because I’m frustrated by society’s values. Because, at the end of the day, I feel that I can make a difference in the world if I am true to myself and my beliefs. I will not be a bystander in life, and I urge you to find your voice as well.

- Kelly

—-

The “Why I Became a Feminist” series is open to anyone who identifies as feminist and wants to share their story. Please email me at rottenlittlegirls @ gmail.com and I will consider publishing your piece in this series. I’d love to have a broad range of voices and experiences.

Part 1 of the series.

Photo Credits

The Pervocracy. Feminism. BDSM. Fuckyeah.

Rebel Artistry’s thoughts on catcalling.

In other news…”Kate Winslet, Rachel Weisz Form “Anti-Cosmetic Surgery League“.

I’m boycotting Nivea these days. Here’s why: “Beauty Company Nivea says “Look Like You Give a Damn”, Cut Off Your Fro“

Clutch Magazine: Does Feminism Scare Black Men?
(Thanks to K.Hope for the head’s up — check out her blog here).

China dissident Ai Weiwei launches scathing attack on govt.

Jezebel: Talking to an Abortion Clinic Protestor.

For some comedic relief:

Find out more at Girl Effect (check out the rest of the website, too, it’s fascinating).

I’ve seen this odd phenomenon before — in dive bars back home, or in random clubs in various cities. It’s by no means de rigeur (thank god), but it’s cropping up in the most unlikely of places and it leaves me feeling… well, uncomfortable.

I’ve been trying to parse out why this is.

To acquire these bras, bars typically offer some sort of incentive. Maybe a free drink, your name on the wall, that kind of deal. I’ve not been witness to any woman offering her bra up for this exchange, but I can only imagine these females demurely unhooking their bra and slipping the straps off their shoulders and handing the piece of fabric over. The typical locker room shuffle.

However, even if there is an exchange — monetary or otherwise — it still comes out in the bar’s favor.

What does the bar get out of this?

A) The titillation of nearby male customers watching the “show” — leading, perhaps, to increased drink orders (purchased for the very women who remove their brassieres) or increased regular customers

B) Increased interest in the drinks at the bar — buy one, get sloshed, want another.

C) Fueling the male fantasy of “girls gone wild” with an array of bras (a highly sexual symbol) at the bar — again, gaining more regular customers

D) Minimal cost: one shot per bra doesn’t add up to much.

Meanwhile what does the woman get?

A) Dubious “admiration” from fellow bar-mates

B) A drink totaling perhaps $5 in bar-money, $1 or less in reality (given the over-pricing of bar drinks)

C) Handing over an expensive swath of fabric that probably cost upwards of $50 (considering most of the bras I saw were specialty brands or Victoria’s Secret. Most looked new, or in good condition.)

Who comes out on top?

As a female customer, I see these bras and feel uncomfortable. I don’t enjoy looking up and feeling this weird pressure to take my own bra off and add it to the collection. I don’t like wondering why other women took theirs off, or imagining the hooting and hollering that might’ve occurred while they did it.

Maybe I just find it crass and my secret Emily Post is coming out, full of tsk tsks and condescension. Mostly, though, I find it mildly (or flagrantly) exploitative. Which sucks, because goddamnit, I liked that bar.

What do you think? Is it semi-harmless fun a la Girls Gone Wild? (For a parsing-out of that cultural product, see this post). Or is it more insidious than the neon-colored bra-art would lead one to believe?

- Kelly

A Guy Weighs In:

You have to look at what each person is getting out of it. The woman in this situation gets to be edgy/sexy/risque or what have you, without crossing any boundaries that weren’t set by her grandmother, who still thinks that wearing skirts above the knee is a big deal. She also gets to point out to anyone who will listen that the bra that now adorns the bar is hers, and will probably giggle out a solid exaggeration of what too many Cosmos will do to her, and if anyone gets the wrong idea, she can always point out to them that “she’s not that kind of girl” and that the public never actually got to see the twins, so stop getting any ideas, creep.

Meanwhile, the bartender gets a decoration that insinuates to his hordes of alcohol and testosterone fueled minions that the female half of his establishment’s patronage are the the type who will sleep with you if you pump them with enough drinks. At the very least, you’ll get see some titties. This means that every dude in the place trying to get some will be buying for two and mister barkeep will be seeing dollar signs.

- Will

Well, she won, in no small part due to the internet!

Here is a link to the announcement itself and an article over at Unicorn Booty. We at Rotten Little Girls wish Avery the best of luck!