Something I absolutely did not write, but really, really wish I had:

“…what we’ve come to call ‘women’s culture.’ By this I mean all the crap in the media that suggests not only are women a special interest group, they’re a group whose primary interest is themselves. I mean the fetishistic attention paid to makeovers and diets and weddings and baby showers and enormous walk-in closets as proof of a husband’s love for his wife. I mean moms who are obsessed with their motherhood and single women who are obsessed with their singleness. I mean most romantic comedies and most novels with stiletto heels or martini glasses on the covers and every yogurt commercial ever made. I mean the girls’ toy aisles in stores that are an ocean of pink: pink Scrabble games, pink guitars, and pink guns. I mean the hair and eyelash extensions that have become commonplace. I mean the fact that there is nothing unusual about seeing businesswomen walking down the street in six-inch heels. Gone are the 1980s, when women tucked their pumps into their briefcase and commuted to work in power suits and running shoes. Gone are the 1970s, with their conspicuous body hair and unapologetic strands of gray pulled into unkempt buns held up with leather stick barrettes. Here in the era of bosomy, spray-tanned, baby-crazed bling, femininity has become a cartoon version of itself. It is at once exaggerated in its presentation and reductive in its implications. It’s enough to make a butch out of anyone who just wants a comfortable pair of shoes.”

-Meghan Daum, Unspeakable 

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