Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Nothing like the threat of sexual assault to keep yo ass movin'

This morning I'm at the gym (applause please! thank you!) puffing away on the treadmill. A young woman hops on the treadmill next to me. After a couple of minutes a staff member comes up, he's clearly her personal trainer. They chat a bit, I puff a lot. He cranks up the incline on her treadmill. She's climbing that hill for what seems like forever. She's starting to get puffed and struggling, his job is to encourage her: "Just 60 seconds to go!" - "You can do it!" - "Just imagine there's a creepy guy chasing you down a dark street! He's going to attack you! You can't stop running!"

Wait, hang on. WTF?!?!

Her response was muted by her gasping for breath, but I think she sort of laughed. I wasn't laughing. I was upset. Do I really need to be reminded of threat of sexual assault during my morning workout? And what about the chick?! Does this guy know her well enough to know that she's never been assaulted, or that her sister hasn't been, or whatever? Is the threat of sexual assault a valid personal training method?? Is it something that's ok to joke about?

What a crock.

I told some of my girlfriends, the resident gym junkie in my little possie seemed to think I was overreacting because women getting attacked by strangers is rare...rare I suppose compared to women getting attacked by men they know. Which is true.

But I still don't feel my upset was an overreaction. I told a few other people and they had the exact same response as me. Which felt good. Because I need validation of my opinions.

So I sent the gym a complaint. I figured it was kind of my responsibility to mention that I found the comment completely inappropriate in a professional setting, because other women who may be far more affected by that kind of thing than me might not be in a position to want to bring it up with management. And even not considering that, it upset me as a woman, and I don't usually keep my mouth shut when something bothers me :-D

I have had no response to my complaint as of yet. Now I am worried they think I'm some feminazi freak and that I'll get sniggers and snide looks next time I'm there. But I'm just going to have to believe in myself and be confident in my standing up for what I believe in. And who are we kidding, I am a feminazi freak :-D

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

My smelly crotch

Panty liners. Talk about a con. This is how it went down at Carefree marketing HQ: "Wow wouldn't it be great if women got their periods all month long!" - "Yeah we'd be raking it in" - "How can we convince them that they need to wear pads even when they don't have their periods?"....

PANTY LINERS!

That's right girls, your crotch is just so gross that you need to protect even your underpants from it! Your normal couple of drips of normal, clear discharge is just sooooo yukky that you need to change your knickers three times a day, you smelly things!

Ok like I can understand using panty liners on a long haul flight, and I'm sure there are other good reasons for them (none of which springs to my mind at the moment). But honestly, what a con. What a waste of money and resources.

Goddamn and don't even get me started on vagina perfume!

*ahem* ok another rather uninteresting, poorly researched and badly written post. But at least I'm getting in the habit of blogging :-)

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Bra burning, repair men and rape culture

Bras. I hate them. Wherever they came from, they remind me of something very Victorian and very restrictive. With their nasty little hooks, their inadequate straps, their rigid underwire; yes I have been properly fitted, thanks for asking. My bras are as comfortable as is possible for bras, I just find them generally physically and intellectually unpleasant. Wriggling out from my bra while still fully clothed is the first thing I do every evening when I get home from work.

Bras. Talk about the gender pay gap - $50 for a decent bra! And they only last 6 months. Someone's making a packet here and it ain't the little fingers putting them together in a South Asian factory. Buying bras is one of my pet hates - you're a 10DD? Really? Er I don't think we have anything in that size. You could try a 12D, it's the same - it's not, it's really not, it just means the back strap is too loose and hence stretches out even quicker, and the underwire cuts into some major veins supplying blood to my heart. Because I spent much of university selling swim ware to women of all shapes and sizes, and doing a damn good job of it, I feel particular disdain for unhelpful bra fitters. Apparently to be less of a hassle to shop assistants I should either have some ribs removed, or put on 10kgs and move into the nanna range. And don't get me started on the fact that the types of bras available to women are based entirely on their breast size!

Bras. They make a statement. The story of feminists burning their bras in the 1960s (whether or not its true or was widespread or whatever) has entered the public consciousness. I used to think those women felt the same way I did about bras - that they were uncomfortable and expensive. But the other day I had an experience that deepened my understanding of why bra burning may be a powerful statement. Here it is:

The smoke alarm needed fixing recently, so I got to 'work from home' between 8 am and 5 pm waiting for Warren the repair man to arrive. One of the reasons I love working from home is that I get to sit around in my trackies sans bra. Warren phoned at 9 am (good service!) and said he was half an hour away. I was wearing track pants, slippers and one of Mr T's baggy t-shirts - no bra of course. I looked down at myself, my ample bust hanging the way it does, and it was clear I wasn't wearing a bra. I wouldn't mind opening the door to a repair man while wearing slippers, or even a dressing gown, but the obviousness of my lack of bra set off a chain of thought in my mind that went something like this:

Repair man coming, home alone - risk of sexual assault - do everything you can to reduce this risk (maybe call Mr T while repair man here?) - no revealing clothing - you're not wearing a bra - no bra equals state of undress - state of undress plus tradie equals invitation for sexual assault.

I put on a bra. I felt silly, but I put it on. Why had I thought that not wearing a bra was a state of undress? From head to toe I was wearing baggy clothing, but I felt undressed.

Do we find the natural female shape somehow unacceptable for public consumption? (Eating disorders and plastic surgery anyone?) Maybe what those bra burners were getting at (apart from their desire not to wear uncomfortable and expensive boob corsets) was that bras are primarily designed to squeeze and mold the female form into something more desirable to the male gaze. Even glimpsing the curve of unshackled female breasts is so unacceptable that not wearing a bra felt to me to be akin to not wearing anything at all! When anybody but Mr T sees me without a bra I feel like they are seeing, uninvited, my true, naked form instead of the fantasy that my breasts are perfectly round, gravity defying, and sitting just below my collar bone.

I don't think its quite the same if you have relatively small breasts. Mum loves letting her A-cups free under a skimpy singlet, but I think she'd be quite disgusted, yes disgusted, if I presented my DDs without 'support' - she thinks "big titty wop wops" are gross. No that attitude totally didn't affect me during adolescence, thanks for asking. But I digress. Some women with small breasts don't like going without a bra either because they equally feel that the natural shape of their breast is inadequate. Hum so maybe it is the same.

Bras. Burn em all.

The chain of thought associated with my state of dress and the repair man not only got me thinking about bras, it got me thinking about rape culture. How messed up is it that having a repair man come to my house while I was alone automatically made me go through the almost unconscious reducing-the-risk-of-sexual-assault checklist. I don't assume that every man is a rapist. But I do not walk on dark streets at night, I call friends when in taxis alone, don't drink too much with blokes you don't know etc etc. These things might seem like normal, risk-reduction activities sure, but they're part of a culture where women are repeatedly reminded that they are at risk, and that it is their responsibility, and in their power, to stop men raping them.

How many times have women been blamed for being raped - She walked down THAT street at 2 am, seriously what was she thinking?? Well getting into a cab by yourself is a risk, we all know that!! Well why did she think they were hanging around buying her drinks? Derr!! This is part of rape culture. Where hem lines rape people, not rapists. Rape culture puts the onus almost completely on the victim to prevent sexual assault. I think my putting on a bra was, in a small way, part of that culture. A culture that says that if I open the door to a tradesmen in a state of undress (not hoisted and molded for acceptable public consumption) then I'm pretty much enacting a porno and asking for it, so what the hell would I expect.

I'm not saying that this is what anyone would think, I'm just trying to pick apart my own chain of thought from that morning. And of course there are so many issue here, like how women are far far far more likely to be assaulted by someone they know etc.