Male privilege is sexualising your body and then insulting you for wearing a low cut top.
Yeah, yeah TMI. Anyway, this week Amanda Marcotte has a piece titled, “Why Are Women Wearing Thongs to Exercise?” on Slate that seems just astonished that women wear thongs to workout.
What kind of sexualized hell are these poor women living in that they can’t even give up porn-compliant underwear in order to keep their bodies lean and toned for future thong-wearing situations? I was under the impression that yoga was supposed to be a healthful activity, and yet here women are, contorting their bodies in a strap of fabric made to respond by straining painfully at your most sensitive bits. Yoga is supposed to be relaxing, and not reminiscent of a visit to the proctologist.
I don’t know why thongs have to be innately sexual? I have long been a fan of thongs because I can wear them without worrying about what outfit I am going to wear. Have you ever put on boyshorts, but end up changing your bottom that doesn’t suit them so you had to end up changing underwear? Well, if you have you know what I mean.
And why do so many insist that thongs are painful!? I love them and I think they’re sooo comfortable. As long as they are the right size and material, I don’t see how stretching or working out in general makes it exceptionally bad to use.
Here’s an idea for women who really are this worried about having visible panty lines under your yoga pants: Don’t wear underwear. It’s not like flies or ants are going to get in there if you don’t seal it off tightly. If your concern is maintaining maximum sexiness at all times, never fear. My careful perusal of photography provided for straight male audiences suggests that while men do indeed find the thong sexy, they have an even stronger preference for women who are wearing no underwear at all. If you choose to share your preferences with the world at large through the the yoga pants equivalent of vanishing ink, well, that’s not up to the rest of us to judge.
I don’t understand why I should workout with no underwear?! Isn’t not wearing panties just as sexualized, if not MORE than thong underwear? Instead of obtaining “maximum sexiness” perhaps I just want “minimal wedgies” when I’m dancing Zumba.
Also, what if I am on my period? What if we don’t want the chance of a tear in your pants to be all what stands between your vulva and the world getting a view? What about vaginal smell? What about labia being kept in place?
Whatever. the tl;dr is:
You’re not a bad feminist if you wear a thong. Even to exercise. Do what makes you comfortable. *I* personally won’t think you’re trying to be sexy (and so what if you were, anyway?).
That woman needs to take her slut shaming and misogyny and get the fuck away from my panties.
you ever thought that maybe the reason girls say they’re fine when they’re not, or they’re not mad when they are, is because the second they show any semblance of emotion they’re written off as hysterical bitches that are probably on their period?
Steubenville football players drug, kidnap, and gang rape unconscious girl, call themselves “Rape Crew”, tweet about it, take pictures of it, and video tape it. They are essentially sentenced to 1-2 years. The media bends over backwards to portray them sympathetically.
Marissa Alexander fires a warning gunshot to defend herself against abusive husband. No one is hurt. She is sentenced to 20 years.
“Misogyny doesn’t exist anymore”
Its bullshit that I literally just caught myself thinking I shouldn’t have worn shorts to go on this walk because people can’t be decent and not harass me when I’m walking. They’re legs you fucks, now act civil and quit honking at me.
”how can women have sex without at least using a strap on? It’s not sex without a dick.”
It’s one of the most misogynist things out there.
dictating how a woman chooses to express herself sexually is misogynistic
it’s also misogynistic to assume that all women undertake a sub position
it’s also heterosexist to assume that all bdsm is heterosexual
It’s also vastly misogynistic to tell me that because I CHOOSE to submit to Adam, I cannot be a feminist. So OP,
Pretty girls with long hair!! Stop cutting that shit off!! Boys don’t wanna date girls with boys haircuts!! Sorry!!
So, by now many of you have probably seen today’s article on Jezebel, about “Jeffy”, otherwise known as jlaix, Captain_Derp on OkCupid (although he seems to have deleted his account), or Jeffrey Allen. Katie J. M. Baker saw a post on Mission Mission about his now-infamous “rape van,” and, realizing she’d seen it before, published their correspondence. Katie spoke to him and made plans for a date, but ultimately canceled. Well, I went a little further.
EDIT: Ms. Baker didn’t actually go out with him, it was an anonymous source.
What a class fucking act he was.
At Comic Con today, I went as Black Cat. This is a shitty picture and there will be better ones of my whole costume coming up but I just want to say something.
Black Cat’s costume has a fair amount of cleavage (conservative compared to many other female comic characters but a good amount as far as what I’ve ever shown). I guess I was not surprised to have a couple men ask to pose with me and then do some doofy “WHOA LOOK AT THOSE KNOCKERS” poses. I just make a really ugly face when I see they’re doing it. One guy with the social graces of a lemur said to me “I was this close to wearing that same outfit. My breasts are large and supple and I think it would have been nice.” Nope. Stop talking.
But aside from guys being doofy and awkward (but clearly not foul-intentioned), I did have my first truly skeezy experience at Comic Con today.
And my first truly empowering moment as well.
This group of men from some kind of Stan Lee fan club blah blah internet video channel blah blah asked to interview with them on camera about Comic Con. I said well okay, sure. Camera is rolling. The “host” is a middle aged, rotund dude. It’s an all-male crew and lots of people (mostly guys) were beginning to crowd around. The following is the interview as burned in my mind. Keep in mind that I expected this to be about Comic Con in general.
- Him: I’m here with…
- Me: Mandy, aka Felicia Hardy aka Black Cat
- Him: ..And she is HOT. Do you think I’m hot enough to pull that off?
- Me: Uh, I’m not sure, I’ve never seen you in drag.
- Him: I’ve got a great ass. Go on, spank me.
- Me: (look at his large ass, popped up mere inches away from me then look into the camera like are you kidding me . No thanks. I may hurt you, I’m a lot stronger than I look.
- Him: Aw come on!
- Me: No, seriously. Stop.
- Him: Damn, alright! Well let me ask you an important question then…what is your cup size?
- Me: (big talk show smile) That is actually none of your fucking business.
- Him: Oh! I think that means to say she’s a C.
- Me: I actually have no breasts at all, what you see is just all of the fat from my midsection pulled up to my chest and carefully held in place with this corset. It’s really uncomfortable, I don’t know why I do it.
- Him: (to the male crowd) Aw, come on what do you guys think? C cup?
- —a few males start to shout out cup sizes as I stand there looking at this guy like this has to be a fucking joke, then look at the crowd and see that no amount of witty banter or fiestiness will stop making this whole thing fucking dumb. It was clearly a ploy to single out cosplaying women to get them to talk sexual innuendos and flirt with this asshole and let him talk down to them simply because they were in costume and were attractive. Whether I’m in a skintight catsuit or not, I’m a fucking professional in everything I do and I don’t need to play nice for this idiot.
- Me: This is not an interview, this is degrading. I’m done. (I walk away)
- Him: (clearly dumbfounded and surprised) ..Come on, it’s all in good fun!
- Me: Being degraded is fun? That was unprofessional and I hope that isn’t your day job because you can’t interview for shit, my man.
And the entire crew and the crowd were SILENT. NOTHING. SHOCK, HONEY. It felt like I was in a heated fog, full of rage and pride and I sashayed away feeling like the most badass motherfucker in the whole damn room, but kind of also on the verge of tears. A slow build of applause would have been appropriate, but from the looks on people’s faces, they were just completely not expecting me to do what I just did- which was really nothing more than speaking up for myself. It wasn’t something one should feel brave for doing but crazy for not doing when necessary.
It’s because many people at these cons expect women cosplaying as vixens (or even just wearing particularly flattering costumes) to be open/ welcoming to crude male commentary and lecherous ogling, like our presence comes with subtitles that say “I represent your fantasy thus you may treat me like a fantasy and not a human in a costume”. And maybe that will always be how the majority of people see us. But that does not mean we have to put up with shit that crosses the line, it does not mean we owe them a fantasy, it does not mean we dress up to have guys drooling over us and letting us know that we turn them on. It is not all about your dicks, gentlemen. So I encourage cosplaying women everywhere to be blunt and vocal with their rights, their personal boundaries, and their comfort level at conventions. I actually encourage girls to be brashly shameless about these things, to not be afraid to speak up if you feel uncomfortable and to let the person doing it know that they are crossing the line. Don’t keep quiet because you’re scared of what they might say or think- because if you say nothing they will continue to see what they’re doing as OK.
Excuse me while I SCREAM IN RAGE.