Politics

Good Morning, Angels

Publicity photo of the cast of the television ...

Publicity photo of the cast of the television program Charlie’s Angels. From left: Jaclyn Smith, Farrah Fawcett-Majors, and Kate Jackson. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Remember them?  By today’s standards, it was a sweet show, despite being the beginning of “Jiggle Power” on tv, also known as “Jiggle TV.”  Funny, the themes and outfits would probably be rated G now, and yet with all the toning, tanning, muscles, and enhancements on the female tv stars you see now, there’s nothing natural enough to jiggle.

Now we have different angels.

victoria's secret fashion show 2010

victoria’s secret fashion show 2010 (Photo credit: cattias.photos)

Not my definition of angelic, but that’s okay.  I don’t have to shop there, and don’t. We’re all grown up women, and can decide for ourselves what type of underwear we’d like to wear.  I find dental floss up my ass to be uncomfortable, and don’t see a woman picking her butt as an enticement, but whatever floats your boat, or lifts your boobs, or frames your artfully sculpted hoo ha.  God Bless.

But wait.  Victoria’s Secret has realized there’s an untapped market waiting for them. That’s right, jail bait.  Future pedophile victims.  Have I gone too far?  Maybe.  But certainly victims of a society that doesn’t know how to allow children to be children.  Make no mistake, at 10, 11, 12, 13 years old, they’re still children, regardless of when their bodies begin to change.

I would like to hear from the adolescent and child psychology experts who sat on the panel in the Victoria’s Secret meetings, and said this is a good idea.  That there’s nothing wrong with teaching little girls to start objectifying themselves early by wearing padded push up bras, panties that say “Call Me” (WTF happened to the ones that said Monday?), and of course, lacy thongs.

What mother who gives a shit about her daughter’s sense of self is buying her this type of underwear?  Am I being judgmental, perhaps alienating readers who might buy my books down the road?  Yup, and that’s okay.  There are some things I feel strongly enough to take a stand on, and this is one of them.  Am I uptight when it comes to my children? You betcha.  Childhood is short, life is long.  But the lessons learned in childhood last a lifetime.  I’d like them to gain the tools they need during childhood for long, productive, happy, and healthy adulthoods.

Middle schoolers, tweens, are a mass of hormones and changes.  This is the very beginning of independence.  By the time a child is 14, you can see the adult they will become–though they aren’t that adult yet.  What are they prioritizing, what have we taught them to prioritize?  This is the time for young people to develop a sense of self, a sense of conscience, an understanding of their place in the world, and what roles they might step into.  This is a time of self doubts and insecurities.  If we parents buy them these types of garments we are prioritizing sexuality, and dating (or hooking up), over social justice, respect, community, intelligence, productivity, healthy body images, and healthy relationships.  Yanno, to “get” the cute boy, strip down to your skivvies so he can see the message stamped on your butt.  Because that’s what he should be paying attention to, right?  Of course, with all these messages, stripping, and hoo ha infections caused by these special undies, I understand, there was no need or time to study for your biology test.  And now that he/she has broken your heart because he/she has no clue or emotional tools to have a healthy relationship because he/she is also a child, no one wrote that Language Arts paper, either.  Because they’re crushed, the very fragile beginnings of self esteem have been stepped on because Mary is cuter, or John is a better dancer.

This isn’t new, really.  OK, marketing thongs to 10 year olds is new, but does anyone else remember this?

Nothing Comes Between Me and My Calvins

Nothing Comes Between Me and My Calvins (Photo credit: Evil Erin)

Brooke Shields was fourteen years old when this ad campaign for Calvin Klein jeans came out, implying there was no underwear between her and her super tight, super sexy jeans.  That was in 1980.  We should have known better.  But certainly, we should know better by now.  And none of this even begins to touch on the damage done to adult women, who are looking at ads that show models they can’t possibly look like, yet are told they should.

Dating and early acting out of sexuality, by its very nature, is emphasizing exclusivity.  How does this make sense for young people who are searching desperately to be included?  It might seem like nothing, innocence, “puppy love.”  But it isn’t nothing, it sends a message about what is most important.  Kids of this age need to find safe ways and places to be included.  How about respect?  How does that fit into this equation?  Certainly, we aren’t teaching respect of self or others when we place value on prepubescent sexuality.  How about self esteem?  Doesn’t this bring us right back to encourage girls “not to be too smart,” and boys to value their sexuality over other, tangible, long term and contributory accomplishments.  How about caring about other human beings, not just cataloguing them?  Yes, let’s all cry about America slipping further down in academic standing when compared to other countries.  Bottom line, with this type of message, we’re teaching our kids that commitment to self and others doesn’t matter.  Because 12 year olds can’t commit to a long term, healthy relationship.  Why?  Because they haven’t yet learned how to commit to themselves, their future.  For the love of all that’s holy, their brains aren’t finished yet, even if their boobs/butts/dangly bits are almost there.

Will there be a separate fashion show for the prepubescent line?  Will it be photographed, filmed, televised?  What’s that?  You think that might be icky, uncomfortably close to child pornography?  You should be thinking that, because it is.  These garments are designed to be looked at, encourage fantasies so they will be purchased.  There is no reason for these sweet whispers of lace and cotton to exist outside of sexual ones.  I’m saying no thanks, I’m saying fuck you Victoria’s Secret.

Hey, you, adult woman!  You don’t get to complain about men objectifying you, not taking you seriously, not giving you equal pay for equal work, and not holding up their end of child rearing if you’re feeding into this crap, and teaching another generation that these priorities are okay.

Perhaps we should bring corsets back.  You know, the ones that literally warped the rib cage and cut off oxygen.  Obviously our girls don’t need those brain cells anyway, since we’re teaching them to put their sexuality above other aspects of their development, or sense of self.

English: Corsets

English: Corsets (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: FIG. 15.—The effect of bending forwar...

English: FIG. 15.—The effect of bending forward, when seated, with and without corsets. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hear That?

It’s the sound of Mrs Fringe having a quiet day.

Black Sand Beach, Maui

Black Sand Beach, Maui (Photo credit: szeke)

In my mind, the scene above is where I am today.  And man, do I need it.  This neverending winter has felt torturous.

But, Spring Break started for Flower Child at 2:35 yesterday afternoon, and Nerd Child is home for another week, so it counts as Spring Break for me, too.  In the spirit of the day, Big Senile Dog decided to start us off right by peeing all over the apartment last night.  In case you were wondering, I don’t call him Senile for no reason.  Occasionally, these days, he forgets the protocol for when and how to void his bladder.  He isn’t the biggest dog, but he is sizable, and has a bladder appropriate for an elephant.

A busy week this week.  I did a fair amount of work on the WIP, submitted eek!!! two short stories, picked up a mountain’s worth of dog poop, all the usual Mama stuff, and had a conversation with the puzzle doctor without crying, pretended I’m moving to New Hampshire and saw some fabulous real estate porn, managed to keep my brain inside my skull despite the ongoing jackhammering on my corner.  Great success.  To reward myself, I made an extra pot of French Press this morning, and spent the last two hours reading.

Reading

Reading (Photo credit: – Annetta -)

Just reading.  No research, no Facebooking, no crushing myself with literature I’ll never measure up to, just a nice read. What else would one do lying on an empty beach?

At some point this week, I read about Michelle Shocked’s rant in California.  I liked her back in the day.  Didn’t love her, but I had a couple of cassettes with her music.  I wasn’t shocked that she’s now found religion, and embraced a different outlook along with it–to put it mildly.  She isn’t the first, won’t be the last.  There’s a difference though, between someone who changes their views, actions, or even their beliefs, with age, time, and their personal experiences and someone who can’t commit to who they are now or admit who they were way back when.  It made me wonder, who are/where are the young women we can look at and admire now?  Odd, isn’t it, the things that can trigger sadness for lost youth, commitment, and passion?

Gawd, I’m maudlin today.

Imma go put some Patti Smith on the iPod.  I would dance along, but I’m afraid to get Big Senile Dog excited, since I’ve only got three paper towels left.

 

Plucked, Tucked, and Fucked

¿Rolling Stones? No, gracias

¿Rolling Stones? No, gracias (Photo credit: alvarezperea)

As a no longer young woman who doesn’t travel with the movers and shakers of society, it sometimes takes me a while to hear about trends and movements.  Last night, I saw an article on Facebook that horrified me.  So much so, I suspected it was a hoax, and googled.  Labiaplasty.  Not a hoax. A (sur)real cosmetic plastic surgery, available at a doctor’s office near you.  Heh.

Just in case you’re as behind the times as I am, labiaplasty is a surgery to trim, or completely remove, a woman’s inner labia.  Ready for the kicker?  This is a purely optional procedure.

So I ranted with my feminist FB buddies for a bit, and then kept googling.  I did find instances of women who said they chose to have the procedure done for more than aesthetic reasons, citing discomfort when running or biking.  I read about one woman who said she was tired of her lips falling out of her underwear.  Now those are lips.  Except when I continued reading, it turns out she was referring to thong underwear. What’s that, dear?  Your dental floss isn’t as comfortable as you’d like it to be?  Get off my lawn!

old lady feeding pigeons

old lady feeding pigeons (Photo credit: mvhargan)

Adult women look different from young girls, the body changes in many ways.  This surgery seems to be an effort to replicate the appearance of prepubescent girls.  As a woman, as a mother, as a sorta kinda feminist, I am appalled.  Exactly how does this fit into “first do no harm?”  Those labia aren’t like your appendix, serving no function.  They are part of your body’s natural defenses, protecting the vagina and urethra, have glands that produce secretions that kill bacteria, and I’m no gynecologist, but I’m pretty sure they help keep your urine from spraying out between the bowl and the seat.  As someone who is a designated toilet scrubber, I approve of this function.

I am naturally slim, always was.  Somehow, it’s more socially acceptable to admit to surgical body sculpting and radical diets than to say this.  We, as women, are supposed to spend our entire lives hating our images, taking ever more extreme measures to look like a continually changing physical ideal.  Men seem to be jumping on this bandwagon for themselves, can be found waiting to have their eyebrows threaded, pedicures done, chests waxed, and of course, cosmetic surgeries.

How much more can we hate ourselves?  We starve, we shave, pour hot wax and rip it off, send electric shocks through our pores, apply acid to remove layers of skin, vacuum fat, lift, tuck, stick bits of plastic on our eyeballs, we paint, we polish, tattoo, pierce, inject water, silicone, and botulism.

But after I logged off, and kept thinking, that pesky little voice in my head kept whispering.  You know the voice, the one that calls you out on your own bullshit and contradictions. Is this really so different than any other plastic surgery done for purely cosmetic reasons? I’ve never had any plastic surgery done, and I’m not likely to, but I can’t say I wouldn’t if an opportunity presented itself.  The younger, more militant me hates this.

I have what I like to think of as probiscis magnificus.  Yanno, a nose that qualifies as a shnoz.  When I was younger, the opportunity for a nose job presented itself.  Did I already hate my nose, wish it didn’t look like a mountain climbing challenge?  Yes I did.  But I  declined the offer, because it was so against my political views, my belief that each of us needs to embrace who we are, including our physical characteristics.  In other words, my shnoz is and always was a part of me, and our physical self contributes to who we become, our self image in every way.  I’d also had my nose broken twice.  It hurts like hell, and I wasn’t in a phase of life where I wanted to volunteer for pain.

At this stage in my life, though, I’m not so young, perky, or firm.  I’m in reasonably good shape, but my skin isn’t so tight.  I’ve nursed three children.  I know who I am, and understand physical changes won’t change the woman I’ve become.  So I’ve thought about it, and if I won the lottery, I might have a rhinoplasty done, and a boob lift to get the girls back to the zip code they used to reside in.  Is there a difference between these procedures and labiaplasty?  I could justify a nose job for medical reasons, the two breaks left me with scar tissue that make my nasal passages permanently stuffy and a snore that rivals an old coal train.  No justification other than vanity for a breast lift.  I think this means I don’t have the right to judge anyone else’s elective procedures.  What’s the line?

Description unavailable

Description unavailable (Photo credit: *Bitch Cakes*)

She Said What?!

Angry-man-rights illustration

Angry-man-rights illustration (Photo credit: HikingArtist.com)

Can we talk about the human side of this election?  Yanno, the post-voting fallout?

I’m stunned by the numbers of people posting complete vitriol–from both sides. On my personal Facebook page it’s been limited, but frankly I think that has more to do with having a small circle of friends than anything else.  Even within that small circle, I’ve seen plenty of people unFriending each other.  Is the shrinking middle class being reflected in shrinking moderation in all areas?

If you’re new to Fringeland, let me tell you now, I’m broke and lean left. If you’re already offended, this blog isn’t for you.

I have friends on both sides, listen to opinions on both sides, see the same facts and figures get skewed by both sides. To me the choice, if not all of the issues, was clear. For all of my reading and listening, I don’t really understand how some of my  friends have the beliefs they do. Some, I think I get it even if I disagree, based on clues and things I know are true in their lives.

My Foot is Slipping

My Foot is Slipping (Photo credit: Old Shoe Woman)

Others, I don’t get it at all. It seems to me they’re fighting against their own interests, one foot in the same muck mine is in and the other heel grinding into the dirt to be buried alongside the first one.

But here’s the thing. I know they’re looking, listening/reading, and thinking the same about me. They believe our country, our values, and our basic rights are slipping away under Obama.  And no, I’m not talking about any of the hateful, ignorant worms we’ve all seen photos of and quotes from online– you know the ones, those who proudly held up signs saying “Bring the White Back into the White House,” or any of their despicable cohorts.

I’m talking about people who aren’t in the 1%, people who are intelligent, reasonably well read, often highly educated. Maybe they have children they’d like to send to college, maybe they have children with significant chronic medical needs, maybe they work union jobs, maybe they’re on disability, or collecting unemployment benefits, maybe they’re women, maybe they’re people of color, maybe they consider themselves caring and moral people (with or without religion), maybe they’re gay, maybe they’re counting on help from FEMA, or the Federal government to rebuild the infrastructure of their community in the wake of Hurricane Sandy.

In my opinion, these are all people who have the potential to benefit more from Obama than they would have under Romney.  Some of them disagree. Fine. I accept that, I was raised with and am quite comfortable with our two party system. Frankly, I’d like to see some teeth from one or two of the smaller alternative parties in addition, to keep people thinking and evolving along with the world.  I don’t have enough hubris to write all of these people off, blanketing myself in the assumption that they’re all either dim, heartless, or evil.

Some people ranting, roaring, and picketing is good.  We need people with that level of passion to get everyone else paying attention. I admire those who fully devote themselves to the causes they believe in, and I thank them for putting their time and energy into these causes, caring enough to keep up the work and attention when elections end, and others might think there’s no more work to be done.

I rarely, rarely see honest, potentially helpful political discourse. The closest is Real Time with Bill Maher, which I’m sure will have 2 of my 3 readers screaming at the computer screen when they read this. The third will wail that I’m rolling over and giving in, not passionate enough.

But. When did it turn into everyone screaming?  If everyone is screaming, no one is listening.  I see rants, misleading partial quotes, and a whole lotta lalalala.

Franz von Stuck: Dissonanz Heliogravur von Han...

Franz von Stuck: Dissonanz Heliogravur von Hanfstaengl. Plattengröße 53 x 46,5 cm, (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I grew up in a home where there was a lot of political arguing. My father would rant, calling my brother a fascist and my brother would bellow back, calling my father a communist.  I would go hide in my room, wishing they would both shut the fuck up. The past year has felt like old home week. Except I’m not hiding in my room and don’t want everyone to shut up. I care very deeply about my life, your life, and the world my children are going to live in. Just lower your voices so I can hear your words, and the intention behind them.