The above is the title of my wild module this year, and I am taking a break from essay-writing ("'Eating disorders need to be understood in the context of the meaning of the body in high- or post-modernity'. Discuss.") to write this blog post (hey, it's better than Facebook!)
Many women who would not describe themselves as having particular problems with food share the same feelings about eating and femininity. "I have quite a good appetite really, but if I'm out with a new boyfriend, I always pick at my food - you know, as if I wasn't really interested in food. I mean, it's not very romantic really to eat like a pig, is it?'"
This intrigues me. Because I have always thought that men prefer someone who eats like she's loving it (ironic that that's almost the McDonalds jingle). Within reason, obviously...grabbing handfuls of chips and forcing them into your mouth isn't particularly attractive in anyone...but I have ALWAYS thought a man would prefer a girl who likes food, who eats heartily, who enjoys the taste and the act of making and consuming food.
Obviously the above quote was spoken by a woman with anorexia, who was (I think we can safely say) clearly not in the most logical frame of mind. But there are a lot of people who feel like her.
I sort of liken this to the same mindset that some women have with relation to sex: lights off, or at most, flattering candlelight, holding your tummy in, hiding your bum, hoping to hell that the guy you're with won't notice your cellulite/stretchmarks/that mole you've always hated/the fact that you haven't shaved your legs. To (totally mis-) quote Belle de Jour (my absolute favourite woman of the last few months); "Holding in your tummy is not sexy. Slapping your ample behind and inviting him to ride the wobble, is."
This is all potentially a result of thinking I am too skinny, of having always believed this. Some photos recently appeared on Facebook of a school trip when I was 14. General reaction from the people around me (none of whom knew me back then) was shock, and comments like "god, you were really skinny" and "I wouldn't have fancied you back then". What's interesting is that I still believe I look like that, despite logically knowing that I am perfectly capable of inviting an abstract gentleman to ride the wobble.
Perhaps if I had always been the opposite; had always struggled with losing weight, as opposed to putting it on, I too would feel like the aforequoted anorexic woman: that men like self-restraint; that women should be contractive. Having read around the subject for this essay, I know that 21st century post/high-modern Western society dictates the above. Women should be contractive. There is (one could claim) an epidemic of corporeal disenfranchisement. We should all be aiming to master our selves.
And so, I find myself once again wondering if my mindset is absolutely, completely, totally, truly-madly-deeply, 100% off-kilter with the rest of the population. And if so, why?
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Chivalry and feminism
Today I got thinking about chivalry. This was prompted by a few events: a man let me onto the bus before him, and then a different man let me off the bus before him. A bit later, my (male) friend opened a door for me to walk through first. I said thank you to all of them, but then I pondered the fact that I'm sure some women would be massively offended by these acts; inferring that the men were implying I am incapable of standing in a queue, or opening a door by myself.
It doesn't cross my mind that these men, or indeed any others, would be thinking that I'm feeble and as such need help from big strong men. If a man carried my shopping for me, I'd be grateful, because it would save me from hurting my hands and arms, but I wouldn't expect it. Equally, I wouldn't expect a man to always open doors for me; if I am faced with a closed door that I need to get through, I will open it.
It bothers me that there are women who think that feminism means hating all men. That it means fighting against men and putting them down and considering ourselves (as women) to be better and stronger and more intelligent and...well, generally better than men. It bothers me that it is frowned upon to enjoy being treated in a gentlemanly way occasionally, and to not see it as a huge insult.
I'm waffling, as always. But am I really wrong for enjoying having doors opened for me? For being flattered by it? Maybe I'm being presumptuous in believing that men are less likely to do these things for other men...but I don't think so. Thoughts?
In other news, I am officially getting old. Over the last few weeks I have been heard to say such things as "What isn't she wearing?!", "That's not a skirt, it's a belt", and most recently; "Well maybe if his hair wasn't infront of his eyes he'd be able to see where he was going!" (after an emo youth ("youth"? God, I really am old...) with perfectly 'messily' coiffed hair over one eye and half the other walked straight into me). I am also considering buying thermal underwear. No shit.
It doesn't cross my mind that these men, or indeed any others, would be thinking that I'm feeble and as such need help from big strong men. If a man carried my shopping for me, I'd be grateful, because it would save me from hurting my hands and arms, but I wouldn't expect it. Equally, I wouldn't expect a man to always open doors for me; if I am faced with a closed door that I need to get through, I will open it.
It bothers me that there are women who think that feminism means hating all men. That it means fighting against men and putting them down and considering ourselves (as women) to be better and stronger and more intelligent and...well, generally better than men. It bothers me that it is frowned upon to enjoy being treated in a gentlemanly way occasionally, and to not see it as a huge insult.
I'm waffling, as always. But am I really wrong for enjoying having doors opened for me? For being flattered by it? Maybe I'm being presumptuous in believing that men are less likely to do these things for other men...but I don't think so. Thoughts?
In other news, I am officially getting old. Over the last few weeks I have been heard to say such things as "What isn't she wearing?!", "That's not a skirt, it's a belt", and most recently; "Well maybe if his hair wasn't infront of his eyes he'd be able to see where he was going!" (after an emo youth ("youth"? God, I really am old...) with perfectly 'messily' coiffed hair over one eye and half the other walked straight into me). I am also considering buying thermal underwear. No shit.
Thursday, 16 October 2008
Hello CFS.
So, I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. All my blood test results from the other day came back normal, so I went back to see the doctor and he said that whilst there's no test for it as such, he would confidently diagnose me with it. Yay. Mild end of the scale, of course, some people with CFS can't walk across a room.
He told me not to run my half marathon in February. I have never wanted to ignore a doctor's advice so much, as now.
I feel a bit sad that I'm going to have to alter my lifestyle. I'm nowhere near being a typical student, I don't go out and get trashed every night (more like once every few months, if that!), but I do stay up very late talking to friends (I'm up till 2 or 3am most nights) and I recognise that that has to change.
At the moment I can't seem to work out in my head how much of a big deal (or otherwise) this is...so apologies if I come across melodramatic or blasé. Neither is intended.
Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet and your day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, or paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I...
He told me not to run my half marathon in February. I have never wanted to ignore a doctor's advice so much, as now.
I feel a bit sad that I'm going to have to alter my lifestyle. I'm nowhere near being a typical student, I don't go out and get trashed every night (more like once every few months, if that!), but I do stay up very late talking to friends (I'm up till 2 or 3am most nights) and I recognise that that has to change.
At the moment I can't seem to work out in my head how much of a big deal (or otherwise) this is...so apologies if I come across melodramatic or blasé. Neither is intended.
Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet and your day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, or paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I...
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Ships that pass in the night
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle... because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
I have been thinking about the way that people enter our lives, often largely through coincidence, and then leave again. I recently got back in contact with a friend who I used to work with; we were close, but after I went to uni we drifted apart. He is now engaged to his long-term boyfriend (last time I spoke to him, he was single) and is moving across the country to live with him. I'm not naive enough to imagine that we'll magically become best buddies, but it's nice to touch base with him again.
I'm not close with anyone I knew at primary school anymore, though we're all civil to each other and occasionally catch up via Facebook. It's almost the same with secondary school, with the exception of L and K. L and I have that sort of friendship whereby we can go weeks, months, without talking, and then pick up exactly where we left off. It's lovely to know that she'll always be there, but that we live our separate lives. However. She has been having a really rough time lately, and to my shame I didn't know when it was at its worst. In fact, the first I knew of it was when I phoned her from a train for a catchup, and she burst into tears at me. L doesn't cry. It was a shock. I'm now trying to make the effort to hold on tighter.
K had a baby a couple of years ago, and (perhaps to my shame) it is largely thanks to him that we keep in touch. I was with her when she took that pregnancy test, and I feel that her son (and her, of course) is a big part of my life. I wouldn't want to miss him growing up for the world!
I find that living as a student forces you to live in a strange dichotomy- "home friends" and "uni friends"...I often find that when living in one realm, it is painfully easy to loosen your grip on the other. However, as one friend once said to me; "I trust that we have a solid enough friendship that you'll still be there, even after a lack of communication" (or words to that effect), and I suppose it really is all about trust. Trust that while everything changes, your friendship won't change all that much. Trust that you still matter to each other. Trust that when push comes to shove, when one really needs the other, you'd still cross borders, climb mountains, ford streams...that there ain't no mountain high enough; ain't no valley low enough; ain't no river wide enough to keep you apart. For the most part, I think my friends would.
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing;
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.
I have been thinking about the way that people enter our lives, often largely through coincidence, and then leave again. I recently got back in contact with a friend who I used to work with; we were close, but after I went to uni we drifted apart. He is now engaged to his long-term boyfriend (last time I spoke to him, he was single) and is moving across the country to live with him. I'm not naive enough to imagine that we'll magically become best buddies, but it's nice to touch base with him again.
I'm not close with anyone I knew at primary school anymore, though we're all civil to each other and occasionally catch up via Facebook. It's almost the same with secondary school, with the exception of L and K. L and I have that sort of friendship whereby we can go weeks, months, without talking, and then pick up exactly where we left off. It's lovely to know that she'll always be there, but that we live our separate lives. However. She has been having a really rough time lately, and to my shame I didn't know when it was at its worst. In fact, the first I knew of it was when I phoned her from a train for a catchup, and she burst into tears at me. L doesn't cry. It was a shock. I'm now trying to make the effort to hold on tighter.
K had a baby a couple of years ago, and (perhaps to my shame) it is largely thanks to him that we keep in touch. I was with her when she took that pregnancy test, and I feel that her son (and her, of course) is a big part of my life. I wouldn't want to miss him growing up for the world!
I find that living as a student forces you to live in a strange dichotomy- "home friends" and "uni friends"...I often find that when living in one realm, it is painfully easy to loosen your grip on the other. However, as one friend once said to me; "I trust that we have a solid enough friendship that you'll still be there, even after a lack of communication" (or words to that effect), and I suppose it really is all about trust. Trust that while everything changes, your friendship won't change all that much. Trust that you still matter to each other. Trust that when push comes to shove, when one really needs the other, you'd still cross borders, climb mountains, ford streams...that there ain't no mountain high enough; ain't no valley low enough; ain't no river wide enough to keep you apart. For the most part, I think my friends would.
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing;
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Canterbury
God, it's good to be back. That's not to say it hasn't been a hard couple of weeks, because it has, but I love being here. My new house is beautiful...
We made purple satin curtains to replace the monstrosities that were originally in our living room (see photo on top above), my room is full of my stuff (see photo above), I have amazing new shoes (almost hidden under chest of drawers in photo above)...they're midnight blue with fuckme heels; I'm not usually a shoes girl (see very expensive trainers next to fuckme shoes in photo above) but these are beautiful. I am in love! We also made three collages out of cards we'd been given, cuttings from magazines, and my photos:
(Forgot to take a photo of the third one, but you get the idea!)
We have worked our way through a little over a litre of Bombay Sapphire, copious quantities of tonic, ice, and limes, several bottles of wine, and a hell of a lot of pasta (our oven is broken so we're restricted to things we can cook on the gas hob). We have flowers and candles and cushions and internet! We have a home phone number. Our sofa is purple. I have learnt to love tea and often switch on the kettle before doing anything else after walking through the door. We have Hotel Chocolat house dark chocolate Batons on the coffee table. We have cheesecake. We have local cider and cobnuts. I joined a gym! Today we went to Choral Evensong at the cathedral and the anthem was Nimrod "Lux Aeterna" from Enigma Variations by Elgar (seriously, nothing could have made me happier).
Last Saturday we had a big night out when my friend Sophie came to visit (along with my housemate's boyfriend, who is a permanent resident on weekends). Cosmopolitans FTW:
(Could I look much happier?! And yes, the bar (Boudoir Bar, it's beautiful) had run out of Cosmopolitan glasses.)
For all this happiness, it hasn't all been marshmallows and blue skies. My first week was bloody hard, and yesterday the Black Cloud crashed down on me far heavier than I expected. My doctor suspects I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but wants to rule out Diabetes first with a fasting blood test (which will be on Wednesday). I have buggered up my knee and I'm not sure how though I suspect the blame lies with the resistance training I've been doing with weights at the gym. So that's my half marathon training set back for a while. Lovelife-wise it hasn't been great either. I realised I'd been messing someone around a bit and had to hurt him. Which sucks. Cruel to be kind, I guess, but I feel royally rubbish about it. And on top of that, it's all very well being sensible and grownup and recognising that life isn't a fairytale, and some things just couldn't work however much you wanted them to, and that it's impossible to know how someone feels, and that it's bloody difficult to tell the truth about how you feel...it's all very well to know these things, and to be these things...but sometimes I feel like Carrie in SATC... I’m looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love.
But hey ho. It's not all bad and I'm actually quite content with how it's all panned out. Plus, I had an excuse to quote xkcd, which, even though I didn't mean it seriously, is always a good thing!
I feel okay.
How are you?
We made purple satin curtains to replace the monstrosities that were originally in our living room (see photo on top above), my room is full of my stuff (see photo above), I have amazing new shoes (almost hidden under chest of drawers in photo above)...they're midnight blue with fuckme heels; I'm not usually a shoes girl (see very expensive trainers next to fuckme shoes in photo above) but these are beautiful. I am in love! We also made three collages out of cards we'd been given, cuttings from magazines, and my photos:
(Forgot to take a photo of the third one, but you get the idea!)
We have worked our way through a little over a litre of Bombay Sapphire, copious quantities of tonic, ice, and limes, several bottles of wine, and a hell of a lot of pasta (our oven is broken so we're restricted to things we can cook on the gas hob). We have flowers and candles and cushions and internet! We have a home phone number. Our sofa is purple. I have learnt to love tea and often switch on the kettle before doing anything else after walking through the door. We have Hotel Chocolat house dark chocolate Batons on the coffee table. We have cheesecake. We have local cider and cobnuts. I joined a gym! Today we went to Choral Evensong at the cathedral and the anthem was Nimrod "Lux Aeterna" from Enigma Variations by Elgar (seriously, nothing could have made me happier).
Last Saturday we had a big night out when my friend Sophie came to visit (along with my housemate's boyfriend, who is a permanent resident on weekends). Cosmopolitans FTW:
(Could I look much happier?! And yes, the bar (Boudoir Bar, it's beautiful) had run out of Cosmopolitan glasses.)
For all this happiness, it hasn't all been marshmallows and blue skies. My first week was bloody hard, and yesterday the Black Cloud crashed down on me far heavier than I expected. My doctor suspects I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but wants to rule out Diabetes first with a fasting blood test (which will be on Wednesday). I have buggered up my knee and I'm not sure how though I suspect the blame lies with the resistance training I've been doing with weights at the gym. So that's my half marathon training set back for a while. Lovelife-wise it hasn't been great either. I realised I'd been messing someone around a bit and had to hurt him. Which sucks. Cruel to be kind, I guess, but I feel royally rubbish about it. And on top of that, it's all very well being sensible and grownup and recognising that life isn't a fairytale, and some things just couldn't work however much you wanted them to, and that it's impossible to know how someone feels, and that it's bloody difficult to tell the truth about how you feel...it's all very well to know these things, and to be these things...but sometimes I feel like Carrie in SATC... I’m looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love.
But hey ho. It's not all bad and I'm actually quite content with how it's all panned out. Plus, I had an excuse to quote xkcd, which, even though I didn't mean it seriously, is always a good thing!
I feel okay.
How are you?
Friday, 19 September 2008
Politics, Belief, Money, Sex...
The above topics (amongst many others) are topics that are commonly regarded as dangerous to discuss at dinner parties. I further this to "dangerous to discuss with anyone you don't want to risk arguing with"...I once had a discussion with my driving instructor in which he basically said that all civilians killed as a result of warfare "deserved it" (bear in mind this is only "them", "our" civilians of course are and were innocent); I got so stressed that I almost drove off the side of the road!
How important do you think similar viewpoints on such issues are, within friendships/relationships? I can't imagine becoming romantically involved with someone who had drastically differing opinions or feelings towards such major life-encapsulating topics, though I think a friendship would be easier to maintain despite differences, indeed, I have a friend who I simply don't discuss politics with, because we both end up upset.
Someone once said to me that they didn't care about politics because they didn't feel it had any relevance to their life. I was totally shocked; to my mind, politics is everything. It may be messy and upsetting and downright frustrating that the political state of the country, indeed of the world, is so messy, but I feel that it is our duty to care and to take an interest in it. This is my upbringing, I'm sure, but maybe it's also because I'm female and after years of having the lessons of the suffragettes etc drilled into me, I feel that the right to vote is essential. And that apathy runs the risk of being the beginning of the downfall of liberty and democracy.
I'm never entirely sure where I stand on belief, which is perhaps hypocritical given my perhaps overly-strong feelings about politics. I like belief/faith/spirituality. I don't like organised religion. I don't like the things that humans do in the name of a god.
I find it amusing how uptight we all are in this country about money. It's bad manners to ask how much someone earns, how much they spent on something, how often they go on holiday etc etc etc. Several people think I'm a spoilt brat after discussions on money. I disapprove of the private sector. Money is definitely a dangerous topic.
Sex....'nuff said. Even assuming that homophobia is dying out (and I don't actually know how true that is...), the vast contrast between people's sexual behaviours is astounding, and a vanilla type may be massively offended by someone who's into BDSM.
Combine them all, hold your dinner party, and sit an extremely right-wing fundamentalist Christian billionaire who thinks sex should only occur after marriage next to a fluffy liberal middle-class atheist who's slept with a dozen people. What happens? I'm willing to bet it wouldn't be the start of a lifelong friendship!
Rantble over...how important is similarity of standpoints in founding a friendship?
How important do you think similar viewpoints on such issues are, within friendships/relationships? I can't imagine becoming romantically involved with someone who had drastically differing opinions or feelings towards such major life-encapsulating topics, though I think a friendship would be easier to maintain despite differences, indeed, I have a friend who I simply don't discuss politics with, because we both end up upset.
Someone once said to me that they didn't care about politics because they didn't feel it had any relevance to their life. I was totally shocked; to my mind, politics is everything. It may be messy and upsetting and downright frustrating that the political state of the country, indeed of the world, is so messy, but I feel that it is our duty to care and to take an interest in it. This is my upbringing, I'm sure, but maybe it's also because I'm female and after years of having the lessons of the suffragettes etc drilled into me, I feel that the right to vote is essential. And that apathy runs the risk of being the beginning of the downfall of liberty and democracy.
I'm never entirely sure where I stand on belief, which is perhaps hypocritical given my perhaps overly-strong feelings about politics. I like belief/faith/spirituality. I don't like organised religion. I don't like the things that humans do in the name of a god.
I find it amusing how uptight we all are in this country about money. It's bad manners to ask how much someone earns, how much they spent on something, how often they go on holiday etc etc etc. Several people think I'm a spoilt brat after discussions on money. I disapprove of the private sector. Money is definitely a dangerous topic.
Sex....'nuff said. Even assuming that homophobia is dying out (and I don't actually know how true that is...), the vast contrast between people's sexual behaviours is astounding, and a vanilla type may be massively offended by someone who's into BDSM.
Combine them all, hold your dinner party, and sit an extremely right-wing fundamentalist Christian billionaire who thinks sex should only occur after marriage next to a fluffy liberal middle-class atheist who's slept with a dozen people. What happens? I'm willing to bet it wouldn't be the start of a lifelong friendship!
Rantble over...how important is similarity of standpoints in founding a friendship?
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
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