Mom woke me earlier then usual, whispering something about a family outing. Her lips were trembling and her eyes were nervously flitting around the room, as if afraid that someone was lurking behind the curtains, ready to bounce out and kill her.
I wiped the sleep away from my eyes and dressed in the cold darkness of my small bedroom. I could hear my father shouting in the living room. He wanted breakfast.
The sun had barely risen when we left the house. I was confused but too tired to ask questions. Dad was driving the car, his hands clenching the wheels so tightly I thought he might just break them in half. Mom had her cheek pressed against the chilled window, I could tell that …
It breaks my heart whenever I hear that women in China and India are having abortions or killing their new born babies just because they turn out to be girls. I’m pro-choice, but having an abortion because your baby is a girl instead of a boy is just beyond disturbing, sexist, and repulsive. The worst part is, the same attitude is prevalent in North America. We may not be killing our new born daughters (not that I know of at least) but a lot of women are definitely devaluing their gender and have become active participants in our good ol’ patriarchy.
Think of all the times you’ve heard women say that they would rather have a boy if they ever became pregnant. Now think of why they say that. …
At some point in recent history the stance of “I Hate My Body” became a public statement encompassing an entire gender rather than a private thought held by few on particularly bad days. Somewhere along the line, women have lost control of their bodies in the name of society’s glamorization and expectation of self-deprecation. But, as I have learned over the years, loving your body is possible, even for the most self-loathing of us all.
Freshman year was a difficult one for me (a unique story, I know). Though I had been aware of my body in middle school and had brief yet unfortunate love affairs with both my hair straightener and Abercrombie and Fitch in attempts to make my body look the way I thought it should, I had …
I’m currently studying abroad in Quito, Ecuador, and I love nearly all of it so far. One of the things I do NOT love, however, is the prevalence of harassment here. I’m kind of accustomed to harassment because I go to school in Philadelphia. Usually when guys yell, “I loove youuu!” or call us pretty and stuff we’re on the street and they’re in cars, or we can easily get away from them.
However, last Friday, a few friends and I had to sit diagonally across from some 3 drunk harassers while we were trying to enjoy a French-fry break from our discoteca-night. And they would not give up. We ignored them for a while, and then one of them came over with a half-full glass of beer and offered it to us.
With all of this talk of the new woman, it only makes sense that society would begin to contemplate the new man. Newsweek attempted to transform a worn down male identity into a modern lifestyle. Though this may have been the goal of “Man Up!”, I felt personally insulted by this story. The message it sent to me was much less appealing, and frankly, quite narrow-minded.
According to this article, masculinity can only be defined within the domain of an archetypal American household. The modern man defines himself, as always, by his home, his wife, and his 2.3 children All the article suggests that men do is start to look after the kids some more. I have more faith in men than that.
Caitlin Crosby is an artist who gives me hope for the pop music genre.
Rarely in pop music do you hear a young woman singing about body acceptance, but that’s exactly what Caitlin Crosby sings about. Her songs Imperfect is the New Perfect, and Flawz preach acceptance, and loving yourself for you.
with lyrics like
“I don’t wanna look like you because
You’re too perfect, too perfect
And I don’t want to fill your shoes because
It’s not worth it, it’s not worth it
I don’t fit the mold
I am real
Too colorful to conceal
Imperfect is the new perfect”
and
“Just dry your eyes, you’re beautiful
I understand, it’s logical
‘Cause these images are everywhere
They’ll make believe, so don’t compare
I will not compare
We’re every shape …
I honestly don’t think that the message Cover Girl Culture promotes can EVER be told to girls (and boys) of my generation too much. We need to start combating the seriously messed up body standards our culture holds us to, and we need to start NOW.
Cover Girl Culture: Awakening the Media Generationis an award winning feature length documentary. From posing in pages of magazines to exposing magazines comes documentary filmmaker Nicole Clark.A former Elite International fashion model turned champion for young girls and their self-esteem, Nicole gets in the face of the media and advertisers calling for responsible media for our youth!We must act now to save an endangered species – empowered girls and young women!
Cover Girl Culture explores how the worlds of fashion, modeling, advertising and celebrity impact our teens and young women. Who sets today’s standards for beauty and how are these standards affecting individuals and society? Who is responsible? Are there ways this can be changed? If so, who can/will change it?
Shocking interviews with fashion editors from major NY magazines. Eye opening interviews with top agents, designers, models, advertisers and many more. An important issue addressed is the sexualization of young girls in the media/advertising. Most importantly it focuses on SOLUTIONS. (this film took 4 yrs to complete)
She learns shame when she’s a first grader. She learns hunger later on. And hate, she learns that in plenty. The way her thighs rub against each other, the soft roundness of her body. So she starts drawing stick figures. Two legs, two arms, one torso, one head. Strong, opinionated lines on the back of her hand. Her forearm. Her desk. Fences. Tree trunks. Notebooks. Her forearm again. She marks her territory, one line at a time. Pencils and fingernails and knives, anything she can get her hands on. And it’s always two legs, two arms, one torso, one head and she gets the hang of it quickly as if her body had known all along what shape it’s supposed to be.
