lipgloss*suicide

"Oh darling, don't worry about shoving needles and toxins in your skin! It happens to us all at some point!"

2008-07-11T05:10:00.000-07:00

Have you seen that Olay advert where they describe the product as being "for women who are not yet ready for cosmetic injections"? As if surgery is some kind of inevitable rite-of-passge for women, like the menopause or that first grey hair.

Although, after watching Nicky Hamblingham-Wotsit on that god-awful "Burn Your Skin Off and Rip Your Teeth Out and Then You Might Look 2 Years Younger Than Your Real Age But Never Actually a Whole 10 Years, Even Though We Called This Programme 10 Years Younger" and the way they throw surgical procedures at women with no discussion on the physical dangers or moral issues, much like a child throwing bird feed to pigeons, you could be forgiven for thinking that this is the case already.

Because women can't be trusted to look after their own bodies...

2008-06-24T05:29:00.000-07:00

The pill is now available to buy over the internet. Brilliant - now women can pick up their supply when they can't get to their GP on time, are on holiday or away from work. And what's more, it gives us greater control over our reproductive health and our bodies without having to run to the doctor for permission, as it were.

But, as was to be expected, The Daily Mail ran the headline 'Fears for girls as the pill is sold online' and proceeded to wring its hands over the possibility that teenage girls could, yes, get hold of the contraceptive pill in emergency situations where they were potentially going to run out of their supply and run the risk of getting pregnant.

We all know how much The Mail hates single mothers, especially teenage ones. They drain good honest hard-working taxpayers money with their scrounging ways and are responsible for the epidemic of youth crime making many of our streets in to no-go areas, after all. So you would assume the news that steps are being taken to help young women stop themselves getting pregnant would be music to their ears, but apparently not.

I think this tells us all we need to know. The Mail would much prefer it if young women stopped behaving like silly slappers and stayed at home with their legs shut. God forbid they decide for themselves what's right for their bodies and their reproductive health. Nope, those bastions of modern morality are here to tell the little girls exactly what they should do.

So another day, another example of this paper's rampant misogyny. It is so ridiculous I would laugh, if it were not for the fact that it has very high circulation figures and a huge readership reach. Yes, people actually hand over money every day to read this shit.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

(PS. I am not going to link to Daily Mail articles. Ever. Working in online media I know that linking to sites gives them higher search engine rankings and pushes up their traffic figures and therefore gets them more ad inventory to sell. Basically, it makes them more money. And I don't want to contribute to that.)

Dave has all the answers.....?

2008-06-18T05:09:00.000-07:00

Daily, it seems, we see and hear more and more about Britain's 'out-of-control knife crime', how our streets are unsafe and our lost yoof are falling victime to gang cultur and violence. Our, ermm, 'wonderful' new Mayor, Boris, has been vowing to make tackling this his number one priority and has started bringing in plenty of effective, hard-line zero tolerance policies which will no doubt knock this 'epidemic' on the head. Such as banning us from drinking cans of beer on the tube.

Ok, I probably shouldn't joke about or belittle the subject too much. When 15 teenagers have been murdered so far this year in London, there is clearly something going terribly wrong here. It is a tragic waste of life and demands that we take a look at ourselves and what kind of society we have built where this is able to go on so regularly. But I just can't take politician's supposed cares seriously when they seem to merely be putting together superficial plans that may temporarily paint over the symptoms of the problem but refuse to even glance at their deep-rooted, underlying causes.

For starters, it's hardly a surprise that at the same time as hearing how instances of knife crime and teenage violence are rising, we are seeing statistics that show how poverty, inequality and social mobility are worsening too. I'm not even going to start on the links between poverty and violent crime. They are proven beyond reasonable doubt and the evidence is there for anyone to find if they wish.

Whilst our politicians harp on about the breakdown of the family, they are embracing free trade full throttle, even to the point when David Milliband is going to The States to lecture their politicians on its virtues. How can I even begin to take seriously any bleatings about tax cuts for married parents or talk of metal detectors in schools when they are so far in bed with the system that creates these social problems that they are practically woven into its mattress?

Coupled with an economic structure that creates and sustains mass poverty whilst keeping the select few dripping with diamonds, we have rampant indivdualism and its ugly offspring - celebrity-worship. Fame was once a by-product of doing something important, significant or noticebale. Now it is not even fame, but infamy and notoriety that are held up throughout the media as what the young should be aspiring to. Coleen McLoughlin and Paris Hilton are seen as 'shrewd business women' despite doing nothing other than sleep with other celebrities and wear expensive dresses. And let's not even discuss Big Brother.

What we appear to have created is an underclass of poverty-stricken young people devoid of the traditional dream of working hard and gradually 'making something' of yourself. The top rung of society seems so far away it may as well be on the moon - something that won't be helped by the fact that, in a few years, both the prime minister and the mayor of London will be men who passed through both Eton and Oxford together. There are no examples held up for them of people from their communities who have worked hard or done something of value to society. They're not the ones who get the local notoriety and the national column inches - it's those involved in crime or gangs that are famed and revered.

For those who don't see much prospect for themselves or hope for what life might give them, crime is a warped way of 'making' something of yourself, forming an identity and gaining celebrity. We can't hope to fight this unless we address the values we currently hold ourselves - where striving fame and self-involvement are de rigour rather than encouraging and praising those who work to give something to to others and to their communities, and until we live in a society where every young person feels they can 'make something' of themselves the traditional way, that the higher rungs of life are not totally out of their reach.

Until then, we'll see if the Mayor and future Prime Minister manage much through banning alcohol on buses and paying people to live together. All I know is, I'm bloody pissed off without my can of kronenberg on the 8.35 pm bus to east London on friday nights......

Apparel-ently it's 'all in the cut'....

2008-06-02T04:54:00.000-07:00

Not too long ago, I was on a date with a guy and going through the usual trite getting-to-know-you, haven’t-quite-drunk-enough-yet-for-the-words-to-really-flow-properly type conversation when the subject moved onto clothes. After complimenting my cardie and asking where I brought it, he informed me that everything he wore was from American Apparel and that he had only ever once stepped foot in H&M, the place where I’d purchased the bulk of my outfit.

I work right by Carnaby Street, which has a rather large American Apparel store, but at this point I’d never actually stepped foot in the place. I knew it was supposedly “cool’n’trendy” and had seen many well-groomed young shorditchians mincing about with their carrier bags firmly in their hands, but the clothes in the window always looked dull as a rainy monday, badly made and in terrible colours. I knew that they're ethically made, but (call me cynical if you wish) I don't have enough faith in the fashionable elite of London town to believe that this alone would make them rush out and snap up the whole store. After explaining to my date that I couldn’t really see the fuss about plain T-shirts that you can buy on Dalston market ten-for-a-fiver, I was swiftly corrected that a) it was all in the cut b) they’re a ‘cult’ thing and that when you see someone else wearing AA you always ‘clock’ each other, and b) it’s really ‘indie’ because they advertise on the back of Vice magazine. He then lamented the fact that they had opened a flagship store on Oxford Street, I suppose because it meant that mere uninitiated peasants would now be able to get in on his ‘cult’ discovery.

On my lunchbreak the next day I decided to wander over and check out what AA had to offer myself, to find out if its rails really were bursting with garments cut in heaven by God’s personal tailor, if their magical cotton would transform me into a member of this elite primary-coloured club the moment it brushed against my skin, and if the window display was actually a deterrent to keep unworthy riff-raff like myself out of the cool kids crew. In I breezed, passing between the racks of elasticated-waists, v-necks and varying-length hems, between the cotton and the nylon and the PVC. I stroked my hand across many of the garments, held a few up to me, even took a couple to the changing room to slip into myself. I gazed at my reflection in the cotton vest and knee-length skirt, then glanced across to the model sprayed on the wall opposite. She was bambi-eyed, lips parted, tousled hair just this side of ‘had a good hard fucking from behind 5 minutes ago.’ The photographer’s harsh lighting and sharp focus gave her that raw, ‘edgy’ feel so du jour in fashion photography. I looked absolutely nothing like her.

I came to the same conclusion that I had every single other time I looked in AA’s window – the plain, block-coloured clothing is no different to anything sold in countless other outlets up and down the country. Yet higher price tags, cannily placed stores, trendy photographers and a breath-takingly large marketing budget that will allow you to buy the back page of Vice magazine every issue for a year can sure-as-hell give these same boring old clothes ‘cult’ label status. It’s fair to say that American Apparel is basically the clothing equivalent of Carling – the beer that tastes of dog-piss-scented stagnant water yet tricks thousands into drinking it through their constant in-you-face-to-the-point-of-suffocation ‘cool’ music sponsorship and other such silly marketing faff. They are both boring as hell and even somewhat rancid, but the magic marketing fairies waved their wands and – puff! – in a cloud of sparkly dust the spell of “cool’n’trendy” was cast over the pile of rubbish for all eternity. Or at least until the budget ran out.

As if you didn't need another reason not to read free papers...

2008-05-21T14:23:00.000-07:00

Flipping through a copy of The London Paper on the tube the other day (I know, I know I’m asking for it! But it was such a long journey and it was discarded so temptingly on the seat next to me!) I came across something that irked me somewhat. Turning to ‘The London Love’ section (yep, definitely doubly asking for it), I found the problem page column displaying a letter from ‘Jodi’ of Sratford. “I have found pornographic material on my boyfriend’s computer. I hate it….” She states, before asking “what can I do to make him get rid of it?”

A selection of readers (and journalists’) answers go like this: “You can’t and you shouldn’t”, “Nobody should feel ashamed of sex”, “Boys are visual creatures… and so often need an outlet”, “Accept that you’re in a minority of one, drop the control freakery and move on.”. In short, they tell her to accept it, that she can’t change it, that she is the one in the wrong for snooping and feeling paranoid and that maybe she should try watch it with him and force herself to like it.

Now, I am a female who is both bisexual and visually aroused, and thus have seen plenty of erotic images and film that turned me on hugely. But this doesn’t escape the fact that I find a vast amount of pornographic material hugely misogynistic and upsetting. How would this boyfriend feel, I wonder, if he were to be confronted with a video of a young man being banged over a pool table by 10 hairy gorillas as they laugh, hoot and tell him to “take it like a dirty whore” whilst the camera closed in on the expression of physical pain on his face and his battered and sore genitalia? Would he agree if he was told that he was being silly and a control freak for not finding it all harmless fun, and would he be expected to join in and watch it with his partner?

Why does it seem to be almost taboo to discuss the fact that pornography can be degrading and disgusting? Why is it fashionable to welcome it with open arms, and dismiss those who raise questions about it as silly, prudish censors? But really, who are the real censors here – the ones expressing their genuine feelings of discomfort? Or the ones telling us to just accept it and shouting down any debate and discussion on the subject?

Surely the right to have the freedom to express our thoughts and feelings is equal to, if not greater than, the right to make and consume the “art” we choose?

Violence Schedules?

2007-04-25T12:12:00.000-07:00

Jessica Valenti of feministing.com is interviewed here where she talks, on the second page, about how all women live on a 'rape schedule'. That is, we are constantly thinking ahead, planning ways to stay safe when getting from A to B, whether it's pre-booking a taxi, getting someone to walk you to the bus stop, carrying a personal alarm or taking the longer but better-lit route.

Predicatably, many people (in the 'letters' section) responded, stating that this way of life is not just exclusive to women - men fear attacks in public too and plan their routes with just as much paranoia. One person states that this is part and parcel of living in an urban environment. Not that I wish to belittle men's fears, I think that the way some men even try and compare them to womens' fears of sexual attack it just demonstrates what litte understanding they have of what we have to experience. When a man is attacked on the street, the motivation is usually economic - he will be mugged for his wallet or phone, and probably experience some nasty violence. But it lacks the sexual element present in the fear and intimidation that it part of most women's lives. They are targetted for their money, not for their gender. I have been mugged and pickpocketed, I have also had cars trawl me, men follow me home and more than my fair share of catcalls and intimidating sexual comments. They are different - they have a different motivation, take a different form and ellicit a different response in you.

When discussing this issue with my boyfriend, who lives in a pretty grim area of London, he pointed out that some attacks on men ARE related to their gender - those guys you see out binge-drinking and picking fights with everyone, they will target men in order to prove their 'manliness'. Beating up another guy shows just how macho you are. This is a good point, and just goes to show how restrictive and damaging gender roles, stereotypes and perceived notions of 'masculinity' and 'femininity' are to every one of us.

Although, steering away from gender issues, perhaps we should be asking ourselves exactly why we all feel so scared in public every day, why we constantly look over our shoulders at the cashpoint and the bus stop, why we fork out that extra tenner for a taxi that we really can't afford. Statistically, chances of attack are low, and when you think of those living in war zones with none of the luxuries we enjoy, it almost seems laughable. Who does it benefit for us to be this fearful, exactly? Certainly not ourselves. How about those above us - after all, how much easier is it to coerce and control people through fear than anything else?

Living the small-town cliche

2007-04-19T14:04:00.000-07:00

I come from a town with a missing genration. When everyone hits 18 they up and leave. Sometimes they return, debt-ridden and with their tails between their legs, after graduation for a few years, where they skulk about, moan about how nothing happens round here then speed away again as soon as they've cleared the credit card. Of course you get a few who never leave, who stay in their little childhood clique forever and think that moving out of home at 25 is, like, sooo young. They also work awful, mind-numbing jobs thanks to the lack of creative industry and graduate opportunities round here.

I am one of those people who was forced to come home after graduating. I work in an office pushing paper around in a job that I am far too over-qualified for, where everyone my age seems to to have getting a mortgage as their main priority in life and has a live-in 'partner', and just love to gloat at how I'm a graduate in the same job as them ('look where your degree get you!'). I also work for satan's nephew - my boss is possibly one of the rudest and most repulsive men I've ever met, and I spend enough time complaining about him anyway so I shouldn't really start typing about it in my evenings.

But despite this test of strength, I have been trying my damndest to make it slightly more bearable. I work on a local arts magazine where I try to scope out local talented creative types (guess what? there's not many) and write what I hope to be inspiring articles, urging the local yoof to get up off their arses and make something interesting happen here. I brought women's rights to the locals attention with our Reclaim the Night march. And now, along with my significant other, have started trying to promote some experimental electronic nights. But, unsurprisingly, people just don't want to know. No venue owners want to take risks in putting us on, and most punters shy away from anything that's not the same tried'n'tested formula. Even the local so-called 'alternative' shops wouldn't put up our posters and flyers, probably as they weren't advertising bland emo/ nu-metal shite. The fact is, when you try to do something different and creative here, you just find yourself up against a brick wall. Anyone who wants to pursue anything interesting heads to london pretty quick, leaving the rest of us hicks with our six-fingered friends and plenty of tumble weed.

All I can say is - thank fuck I'm leaving this hell hole for good in a month's time.

Women - Know Your Limits!

2007-04-18T13:08:00.000-07:00

Well oh well, what more could we have expected of The Daily Express?

After the first pictures of the victims (and perpetrator) of the Virginia Tech massacre are released, what do they decide to run on the cover? A picture of the woman the killer was supposedly infatuated by, along with the headline 'The Beauty Who Sparked A Massacre'

Just like the paper's reporting of rape cases, it always seems that women are somehow responsible for the crimes committed against them, whether because they were too drunk, too slutty, too ambitious or, in this case, simply too pretty.

Remember, the only ones who should be painted as guilty are the ones who ARE fucking guilty.

Reclaim the Night - Wow!!

2007-01-04T16:19:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to say what an amazing success the Ipswich RTN march was last week. We had hardly any experience in organising something of this scale before and manged to pull it off with less than three weeks over christmas to get it all sorted. We were completely over-whelmed by the support we had both from the public and the media, and it was amazing to see feminist issues as front page news in the local press! I know most females in the area were very shaken up and scared to go out at night, so I just hope this march gave some of them back their feelings of power and confidence.

We did have some criticism from the 'more feminist than thou' thanks to our decision to let men on the march - the fact is that I sometimes feel isolated in normal everyday society thanks to my views, yet when I turn towards others, my sisters, I'm pushed away from them and told that my version of feminism is not the 'right' one. I don't know about you, but whilst there are real injustices happening towards women the world over, all the in-fighting and petty disagreements don't really seem to contribute much towards helping anyone, do they?

To defend our choice to allow men on the march, here is a copy of what I posted to LFN:

" We truly understand the reasons as to why all-female RTN's are organised and we support this. However, as people who have lived and grown-up in Ipswich and have many family and friends here, we can see and feel the deep impact that these terrible events have had on our
small community and we do not feel that an all-female march would be appropriate at this sensitive time. We want our community to rally togther to say that we oppose violence towards women and want an end to it, but we do not wish to exclude people who have been touched very deeply by these awful events. For example, the murdered women have male family members and friends and we not do not think it would be appropriatefor us to tell them that they cannot march with us. I also believe claims that RTN has always been female-only are questionable, I know one woman who is helping organize the event attended a mixed RTN march
when she was a student in Birmingham in the early 80's.

I am quite saddened at some people's response to the march. Stargazer and Tumbleweed, who started organising the march, are not affilated to any group and I'm sorry some of you misinterpretd this due to the email address that was used. They are two young, concerned individuals who have taken it upon them to organise a potentially massive event in an area that has traditionally been pretty apathetic, and they should be praised for this. I myself am female, a feminist and have been involved in the women's movement when I was a student in London until recently . Although I appreciate everyone's comments and understand some people's concerns, I find it a little insensitive that some people are opposing this march when they are not from our community and thus cannot really sense the atmosphere surrounding the town at the moment and cannot appreciate why a female-only march would not be appropriate."

As to reports that a female only march will be held later this month... Well to be honest that just seems completely patronising, it's like telling us 'no we're proper feminists from london and we're going to come to your town and teach you all how to do things properly'. Sorry if it's not meant to be like that, but that's how it feels to members of our community. Please try to be a bit more sensitive.

Following on from food guilt...

2006-12-20T13:07:00.000-08:00

Not too long ago, I posted about how women always seem to be made to feel guilty about enjoying themselves. Now in today's independent I've come across this

I'm sorry, but what has this woman done that is so morally reprehensible apart from get sloshed and have a good time? Like the writer says, what else do you expect if pluck a girl from kentucky and give her a multi-million dollar apartment in New York to go wild in? Who the hell can blame her? And let's not get started on the recent pleas for Britney to 'calm down' after she - shock horror! - gets thoroughly rat-arsed wth her girlfriends to celebrate her divorce.

Let's add to this the constant portrayal of Lindsay Lohan as 'out of control', Kate Moss's media treatment last summer (far more vicious than anything her other half gets, and let's remember who's the one who actually manages to turn up to work and make a living) and the criticism dished out at Lily Allen for daring to suggest that she would celebrate a number one single with lots of cocaine. Excuse me if I'm mistaken, but aren't plenty of men who've practically acheived iconic status thanks in part to their insatiable apetites for vice, excess and self-destruction? For starters, there's Sid Vicious, Jim Morrison, The Gallagher Brothers, Hunter S Thompson, even Motley fucking Crue... I know people appreciate their artistic integrity too (although if you consider Motley Crue real musical talent then please go shove screwdrivers down your earholes as punishment), but when has the same patronising criticism ever been levied at them?

If young women don't want to associate with feminists 'cos of all the boring fuddy-duddy stuff such as not liking strip clubs, then at least they may want to join us to campaign for the right to get totally smashed out of our faces on a regular basis? Who fancies organising 'RECLAIM THE GAK' with me?

The Suffolk Murders

2006-12-17T10:14:00.000-08:00

Right now I am back at my parents' house in Ipswich, Suffolk. I'm sure you've all heard about the terrible events in our town recently. I'm going to try and avoid talking about the fact that the women are constantly referred to as 'prostitutes' instead of people - you don't hear Luke Durbin, who went missing here earlier this year, referred to as 'shop assitant' instead of 'young man'. I'm going to avoid complaining about how the national media didn't bother reporting the case until a third body was found and the magic words 'serial killer' uttered. I'm not going to express my anger at the way the tabloid media have jumped on this case like vultures once they knew they could paint a picture of the 'ripper' targeting 'vice girls'. I'm not going to pass too much comment on the fact that Suffolk Police didn't say they were dealing with a 'major inquiry' until 3rd december, nearly a month after the first victim went missing. They've been spoken about enough by various commentators. I don't feel I have too much to add to what's been said.

But what I AM going to get mad about is the fact that no one seems to be addressing what was really responsible for these tragedies, what is responsible for the women selling their bodies in the first place, what is responsible for other sex workers being trafficked in, beaten and raped. And that is: the men who pay them for sex. The men who create the demand that fuels the supply. The men who continue to use brothels when they know many girls are trafficked in and held against their will. The men who pick women up off the street, carry on providing business even though they know it is dangerous for them to be working in such conditions. Why, amidst all the media talk about opening legal brothels and tolerance zones for the women to work in has nobody suggested that maybe, perhaps, men should consider whether it is really morally right for them to sleep with prostitutes?

We are used to campaigns telling us not to buy products or services when they use unethical working practices. Nike, Gap, Tescos, Starbucks; the message to stay away from these companies unless you wish to fund their workers' abuse is one that's vocalised quite frequently. So why, despite knowing the dangers street workers encounter, and even high-profile dramas such as 'sex traffic' on our TV screens, am I still not hearing any condemnation of the men who use these services? They are the ones who fuel the trafficking of women, who encourage them to work on the streets and place their lives in danger. It looks like there will be a reform of the laws surrounding prostitution shortly (don't get me started on the fact that it took a frenzied killing spree for this to really be discussed properly) but that is still not enough. There has to be a focus also on helping the women who want to get out of their situation. If it becomes a fully legitimised and respected profession, then what message will that be sending out to the next generation? That is normal, regular behaviour for a man to buy sex with a woman, to buy her body like a posession? What will this do to gender relations? Yes, whilst women are still working as prostitutes we need to make it as safe for them as possible, but this will not be enough. We need to help them escape when they want to and we need to teach men that it is NOT ok to buy women's bodies like disposable objects when they are in such a vulnerble position through lack of choice. Women are more than a collection of body parts and men are more than animalistic slaves to their sex drives. We cannot accept these gross and degrading stereotypes. We are human, we have brains and minds and we must use them.

Caught in the trap

2006-11-30T11:24:00.000-08:00

Why is it that, even though I recognise how shallow and petty and materialistic most of the concerns of westerners my age are, I always seem to find myself getting caught up in them?

I don't need to explain to anyone reading just why materialism is so wrong, how we are conned into thinking that buying posesions is the route to our happiness. I don't need to articulate how ridiculous it is that the female natural form is considered grotesque, that we feel the need to shave it and trim it and paint it over. In fact it makes me downright angry and frustrated when I can see how utterly screwed this mindset is and yet how deeply embedded it is within us. So why, even though I know it's wrong, do I find myself subscribing to it? Why do I get so carried away with clothes shopping that I actually feel upset if the dress I want doesn't fit me, or if I can't afford it? I know that it's just a piece of material, that it won't change my life, and that I shouldn't give a fuck in the first place. But still I get caught up in it all. And why, when I have eczema flared up and thus cannot shave, do I not want to let my bloke see me naked? In fact, why am I actually more concerned about my pubic hair in full growth than I am about the itchy painful rash? All this does is create a conflict within my own mind, where I'm constantly scolding myself for my thoughts and desires, yet my desires sometimes the better of my. And then, once I've indulged, I'm left feeling guilty and frustrated at myself.

As a feminist, this is the biggest problem I seem to encounter. The fact that sexist attitudes are so deeply embedded in public consciousness that sometimes people cannot even recognise why they are sexist. Or even when you can see what's going on, you still find yourself imposing restrictions upon yourself, find yourself kepping you and your body in-line. I thik that, truly, all of us want to break free, but just feel like we can't. When you come face to face with your enemy, it's pretty difficult to fight them when you realise it's your reflection.

Fuck off you neon-legginged twats

2006-11-18T15:32:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, something becomes just so naff and trashy and out-of-date that it is automatically cool again. "Ironic Consumption" I think think the big marketing men in the sky call it, referring to those kids so far ahead in the game of knowing what's cool that they outsurpass it all and come back around to the completely uncool. I am guilty of this myself - I love Paris Hilton precisely because she represents everything sick and wrong and evil in society, I have brought MaryKate&Ashley make-up not because I even liked it but because I just couldn't resist the lure of that kitsch-tacular packaging, and let's not even get started on my collection of Britney Spears dolls...

But the thought had not even occured to me that I could, possibly, maybe, be pissing off someone who genuinely loves Paris and Britney and The Olsen Twins. How do I know there's not some poor soul reading this and thinking 'oh fuck you you pretentious twat, forget your stupid post-modern acts of consumerism and leave my ickle Paris alone - she means the world to me and you will never understand it because you're a pompous wanker who's just using her to try look cool.' If that person is you then I sincerely apologise, because I have recently realised just how you must feel.

Let me get to the point. If you've been paying attention to the music press at all (if you haven't then I don't balme you - most of it is shit anyway) the word on the street for a while has been the 'neu rave' phenomenon. Yup, these past few years we have been constantly told 'dance music is dead', white gloves and glow sticks have been loooked upon with scorn as the cool kids laced up their converse, smiley sweaty gurny ecstasy-fuelled faces were replaced with coked-up pete'n'kate sneers, and hands-in-the-air-we-are-as-one turned into posers standing at the back with their arms crossed trying to out-cool each other. And, oh yes, the music sounded completely different. But now, it appears the truly cool kids, in an effort to escape the media circus that The Libertines and their ilk turned into, are returning back to the dirty words 'rave' and 'dance music'. The usual indie fare, once cool, has become so mainstream and common that they've gone back to that much maligned section of youth culture in order to stay ahead of their game. Rave become so hideously uncool that all of a sudden it was cool again. Ineveitably, music journos practically wet themselves upon hearing this and wrote up long pieces of verbal masturbation under headlines screaming 'THE RETURN OF RAVE!!!'

But, surprisingly to some, rave never actually went away in the first place. It has always been here, just ignored and shunned by the mainstream. I myself am a child of rave - or at least, I became one the moment that the shy 16 year old goth necked her first ecstasy pill, became infected with the poison of loud repetitive beats, swapped her snakebite for a water bottle and started worshipping at the altar of dance music. Gone were the baggy black clothes and in came the neon hotpants, face paint and fluffy boots. Bye-bye to sitting in the pub on a friday with the usual gang, now it was all about missions up and down to country to Crasher and Sundissential. Those were some of the best times of my life and I wouldn't swap a single night for a million shitty Libertines gigs, but along with the pleasure alas came the pain. There was the fact that not many people my age were into the scene (which could be isolating at times), the inevitible near-failure of the A-levels thanks to week-long comedowns, and the trauma of having to now look at photos of myself in a cyberdog outfit with a dummy in my mouth. For a couple of years I dedicated myself to the rave scene, pledged my heart and soul to it, willingly taking on all the hardships that such a devotion would bring... such as the aforementioned outfits and the loss of my inside cheeks.

These days I'm (slightly) more grown-up and, whilst I try and attend similar events every so often, I now prefer a more eclectic mix of nights, people and music. But despite this, I still feel a strange loyalty to the scene and all that it contains over any other genre/ bandwagon/ whatever. So when a bunch of poncey fucking hoxtonites who previously sneered at us are all of a sudden jumping on this 'neu rave' boat just to look cool, it actually begins to make my blood boil slightly. Their declaration that rave is 'back', and their pre-fix with the word 'neu' just goes to show that they haven't got a single fucking clue about the scene and the music and what it actually means to some people. They are just a bunch of indie kids trying to get into the next big thing, there's nothing 'rave' about them whatsoever. I'm sorry, but please stop talking about my music as if you own it, put your glo-stick down and go back to smoking crack in Pete Doherty's squat. It suits you so much better.

The only hope is that now this eye-and-ear-sore that is 'neu' rave has been made into a big deal in the media, it is now officially uncool and thus dead and now the silly little art-school twats will have to move on to something else. What next, 'neu' steps'n'spice-girls covers? 'Neu' UK garage? Whatever it is, just keep it well away from me please.

A Love Letter

2006-11-12T14:35:00.000-08:00

I miss you, London. I'm pining.

I miss the thick smoggy smell that you have in the summer heat, that smell that gets right down in your lungs and parties with your stomach. I miss the way you look so elegant and composed with the rain dripping down on you. I miss the buzzing and whirring sounds of the traffic and the people and the lights and the screams. I miss the way you intoxicate me with your energy, the way you make me giddy with excitement at what could be going on around me as I walk down your streets, what's happening behind all your doors and windows and walls. I even miss the way you can be cruel to me, how you can make me feel so alone and afraid, so fragile and small. But yet you make me feel powerful too, you make me feel on the edge of world, like I'm about to tip over into everything that you hold and just get lost right within your heart.

I can't write as well without you around me. Nothing here inspires me and fills me up with words and thoughts and places and people in the same way that you can. You are my muse, my obsession, my soulmate, my soul, my pleasure, my pain, my light, my life.

Food Guilt?

2006-10-05T11:51:00.000-07:00

When I get bored, I eat. And at work I get bored one hell of a lot. I can't stand to just sit there typing away when I know that the vending machine is only just outside the door, calling to me sweetly with promises of stodge, fat and empty carbs.

So, needless to say, I sit munching at my desk quite regularly. There are two reasons I should be ashamed of this - firstly, it's a waste of money to buy over-priced muck when I'm not even hungry, and secondly, I really should think about my poor little heart and just how much faster it'll have to beat to push my blood through all those clogged-up arteries. But I always spend money like water without so much of an ounce of guilt, and years of smoking, drinking and drug use suggest I quite frankly don't give a shit about my body either. But as I sit there munching, chewing and crunching, I still feel shame and embarassment as I put yet another Mars to my lips. Why? Whenever I pig out on my own or with close friends I don't give it a second thought. Why do I suddenly feel guilty when I do it at work?

Yes, I have come to the realisation that, for some reason or other, I always feel embarassed eating in front of people I don't know very well. I'm naturally slim, so it's not as if I'm worrying about people whispering and saying 'ooooooh look at her, no wonder she's so fat with the amount she eats'. In the past I've felt guilty for stuffing my face in front of friends who I knew were overweight and trying to slim down, but this isn't the case at work. Maybe it's from watching all those police-of-the-saucepans on TV, Jamie Oliver and Gillian McKeith, hovvering over fattys' shoulders and shreiking expletives at them the moment they so much as smell something that isn't calorie-free beans and cabbage mush. Have we become so bullied by these kitchen watchdogs that we can't enjoy a single dorito without feeling the need to bathe ourselves in holy water and beg for redemption?

But if this was the case, then why does it only seem to be females who experience public food consumption shame? A quick survey around my friends shows that I'm not the only sufferer - in fact, it seems a pretty common affliction. However, I am yet to come across a single male who feels the same. In fact, the idea of a man being embarassed to eat in front of others seems pretty ridiculous - most of the ones I know will happily chomp on piles of less-than-nutritious cuisine without a second thought. One could suggest that it is because women feel more pressure to stay slim and toned, and so feel more guilty when eating as they know that they're not performing in the way that is expected of them, ie. not making their appearance their number one priority at all times.

But I don't think it's completely about body image. I think it has more to do with the fact that women are made to feel guilty and shameful about persuing and experiencing pleasure. We are sluts if we enjoy sex, we are selfish and shallow if we enjoy our careers more than the role of motherhood, we are cold bitches if we show ambition and desire to get to a certain point or place in life, we are stupid and reckless if we enjoy drinking alcohol and we are fat ugly slobs if we enjoy gorging ourselvs on food. Men may have similar lectures about healthy eating and exercise to us, but there is not a trace of thought in society that they should ever deny themselves pleasure. More to the point, men over the decades have thought their pleasure to be far more important than any of the lives or rights of others. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a complete hedonist - I believe in taking responsibilty and helping others around you rather than putting your needs before everyone else's. But if there's no harm to be done and no one to be hurt, then what's wrong with a good old spot of pleasure persuit? Why should we feel guilty if the only person we may be endangering is ourselves? So ladies, let's hear a massive 'FUCK 'EM ALL', bring the chocolate to your lips and swallow. Hard.

The best thing to happen to me all week

2006-09-27T14:27:00.000-07:00

Yay! I have wi-fi back up on my laptop!

I was actually working on writing a really ridiculously long essay-type thing for here, then all of a sudden my baby is working properly again and I decide to waste an entire evening downloading a shitload of music instead. Time well spent, I reckon.

Music. Is. Great. <3 <3 <3

Another day on the metaphorical treadmill

2006-09-19T10:54:00.000-07:00

Jesus Christ, my last three years of hibernation away in studentland have left me spectacularly unprepared for just how fucking boring and monotonous and utterly zombifying office work is. Where has all my time suddenly gone? How do my evenings manage to fly by so ridiulously fast now?! The only plus side (apart from earning some £££, of course) is that the spare time which I do have I seem to be spending much more productively now. And I guess it's kind of pleasant to be in some kind of routine, I guess....

In one of my now-crammed-full-of-activities-because-I-no-longer-have-much-spare-time-so-can't-be-lazy-and-put-them-off-til-later evenings I trootted down to cineworld to watch Volver. For those who haven't seen it, it's a film by Almodovar (one of my favourite directors in the world, ever) chronicling the relationships between three generations of women in one family. I know that I doesn't give it the best sell, but you should all go see it because it's tremendously witty, quirky, clever and original. It's also wonderful to watch a really touching story about female unity and strength rather than seeing women portrayed on-screen as competitive, catty and unable to function harmoniously with one another.

In other news, I also have an article being published soon *fingers crossed* on The F Word... yay me! So watch this space...

A Quick Note...

2006-09-05T17:22:00.000-07:00

It's late and I need to go to bed, but I just had to post a quick note after a browse around some blogs....

I'm very new to the blogosphere, but there seems to be quite a war waging between radical feminists and 'anti-censorship' feminists. I have seen comments made that state, in no uncertain terms, that anyone who opposes censorship is 'not a feminist' and will not be allowed into discussion with the 'real' feminists.

I am not positioned firmly on either side of the fence. I am interested in discussion, deabte and hearing what each side has to say. However, if there is one thing that I am definately AGAINST, then it is those who refuse to discuss issues and hear other people's opinions. I am against fundamentalists of all kinds. I am against anyone who will not listen to those whose viewpoints fall outside of their idea of what 'feminism' is and how a 'feminist' thinks, feels and behaves.

If I ever find myself refusing to listen to someone because their viewpoint does not fit into my construction of 'feminism' then I shall be very disapointed with myself, to say the least.

Banksy vs. Paris

2006-09-05T14:40:00.000-07:00

Oh Banksy Banksy Banksy, I love you, I honestly do. You've cheered up many a dull morning for me when I've suddenly spotted a piece of yours. Perhaps a rat, lurking down by the pavement as dozens of fast-paced feet march past unnoticing. Or the old hitchhiker on Archway road who I used to smile at as I went through the daily grind, thinking it would be great to join him, just jump in a car and bugger off to 'anywhere'. And when I read your books I felt inspired enough to actually sit down and write a long-winded email to you (or one of your minions at least - I don't know who deals with your mail. You have a PA? A Secretary? Wouldn't surprise me if you had several). I didn't send it though. I'm sure you get enough drivel-filled emails from kids who want to 'fuck the system' gushing about how amazing you are and what an inspiration you've been; you don't need another to clog up the recycling bin.

So why do you have to go and do this to me?

Don't get me wrong, I understand where you're coming from. You're attacking the cult of celebrity, pointless fame, the worship of 'false icons' and everything that goes with it. I think it's a really clever stunt, I honestly do. I agree with what you're saying. I just have one question...

Why did you make her topless on the front cover?

What was the point of that, really? I guess you're suffering from the schollboy syndrome of finding it really really hilarious to draw boobies on pictures of women. I'm not very impressed. No points for you this time.

Apart from her pointless tits, my other gripe with the stunt is that, clearly, Paris didn't make herself become famous just like that. She didn't wave her magic fame wand and - poof! - suddenly she was a celebrity. It is the media who created her - perhaps a campaign about the vapid-ness of modern celebrity should be targeted at them instead? Why not doctor 500 copies of Heat magazine? Or The Sun? That would be pretty good actually. I think you should do it. Just don't draw naked tits on everyone just for the sake of it, please?

2006-09-03T15:38:00.000-07:00

So, the government has finally outlawed the possession of (in addition to the making and distributing of, which is already illegal) ‘extreme adult images.’ This apparently includes necrophilia, bestiality and ‘extreme violent sexual acts.’

I have to say that, as a feminist, I’m yet to make up my mind entirely as to whereabouts I stand in the whole pornography debate. I have watched pornography, and a lot of it did unsettle me in the way it served up women’s bodies as objects, dehumanising and degrading them for the pleasure of the male viewer. I have seen pornography in which the female performer has clearly been in pain and discomfort, where she looks as if she finds the experience anything but enjoyable. But I draw the line in claiming that women are raped and abused regularly in order to make these films; I do not work in the industry, I do not know these women, and I do not feel it is my place to dictate whether they are being raped or not, whether they are consenting or not. I do not wish to speak for them on their behalf and I think it is insulting and demeaning to paint them all as victims when we do not know them and we do not know their truths. We cannot make generalisations about these women; their stories must be heard by us on a case-by-case basis.

Therefore, when it comes to ‘extreme adult images’, I am again hesitant about tarring all images that depict violent sexual acts with the same brush. I have not seen any particularly violent pornography, nothing that would perhaps class as ‘snuff’, nor anything depicting violent torture and rape (whether real or simulated), but if women really are being raped and tortured in order to make these films then it makes sense to try and stifle the demand that leads to their production. However, I do not want to consider all such material as morally repugnant. Even though it may not be what I choose to do in the bedroom (or the living room, or the kitchen, or the garden...), I have met plenty of couples (mostly in fetish clubs, where people are more willing to talk about the subject) who enjoy painful and violent sex acts. They still have wonderful, healthy relationships that most people would be envious of. If they chose to film themselves carrying out these acts, is it now illegal to posess this material? As I stated earlier, although I'm sure many actresses in violent pornography have been abused, we must be open to the idea that there are some who genuinely enjoy carrying out these acts. Human sexuality is beautifully diverse and varied in its colours and themes, and I believe it is unjustifiable to try and tell two consenting adults that any sex acts they choose to carry out with each other are ‘wrong’ and should be banned. In fact this is one of the main gripes I have with the majority of pornography that I have seen; it serves human sexuality up in one extremely narrow and restrictive mould. It is not ‘liberating’ in the slightest, despite its makers’ claims, as it teaches that sex is something that should be performed in a certain way, that certain acts are what all men must get aroused by, and that both genders should play certain roles. Likewise, it is not our place to tell grown adults who like to engage in sex acts involving pain and degradation that their tastes are morally wrong. I know that this law may apply to only the most extreme of images, but I still object very strongly to the idea of authority figures dictating to us just what is normal, natural human sexual behaviour. As a woman, I know that my sexuality has been dictated for me over centuries by those in power, it has been denied to me and forced upon me depending on what suits their needs at any given time. I am therefore wary and suspicious of any laws seeking to define ‘acceptable’ sexual behaviour.

As for the argument that watching extreme material will lead the viewer to harbour such desires, and eventually tempt them to act upon them, I am inclined to believe that there is some truth to this. However, I do not think that banning extreme pornography is the answer. I believe that the root cause of this problem is the lack of sex education and open discussion in our society. We have an abundance of skewed, unrealistic portrayals of human sexual behaviour, be they in the media as a whole or pornography itself, and no sensible discussion and education to balance it out. Young boys turn to pornography to learn about sex when they are curious, and girls look at the figures on the cover of FHM, learning that this is the role they should take. I agree with radical feminism’s analysis of pornography; I do indeed see it as violence against women, I see how it carves women’s bodies up for male pleasure, how it teaches men that their right to orgasm is paramount to any of the woman’s rights. When you consider how men are fed this material from an early age, and that 1 in 20 women in the UK have been raped, we cannot take the issue lightly. I am not saying that there is necessarily a direct link; I understand that the relationship with rape is very complex and that not every man who watches pornography will grow into a rapist. But when women’s lives are affected on a daily basis, whether through the experience of rape itself or other, more low-key forms of harassment, the fact that material which degrades them and glorifies violence towards them, that attempts to control and display their bodies for the pleasure of men, is widespread and almost mainstream in its use cannot be ignored. However, I don’t believe that censorship is the key. What we need is real options in the first place so that the young do not have to resort to pornography to learn about sex. We need open discussion of the subject and representations of sex that do not serve women up as playthings for male pleasure. I do not know what this material will look like yet, or how we can go about creating a culture of respect for women’s bodies rather than degradation and objectification, but I’m hopeful we can find it. I believe we can change this.

2006-08-30T16:21:00.000-07:00

Well, Reading was fun. Unfortunately, the combining factors of my having to work, too many messy nights leading into dragged-out mornings, and general laziness and disorganisation meant that I didn’t get to see as many bands as I wanted, so not too much to report on that front.

It was strange going back there and realising that I’m probably getting a little old for that festival now. The place itself hasn’t changed a bit, it’s still a bunch of anarchic kids away from home for the first time, running around and acting ‘rock’. It was just me who’s changed, who’s grown up a lot in a relatively short time. On the first night I was thoroughly depressed by this revelation and walked around the campsite with a thundercloud over my head growling at all the kids running about who were annoying the hell out of me, when really I was just annoyed at myself and the fact that I couldn’t throw myself into the middle of them like I used to. But as the weekend went on I grew fond of it. Despite their attempts at rebellion there’s a strange innocence to it all, watching them all do what they want away from any kind of adult control and just going completely crazy. None of them are bothered about pretending to look or act cool, they’re not scared to act completely random and do what they want. It’s refreshing and, dare I say it, liberating. And by the last night I was even joining them in their little games, dance-offs and bouts of madness (although I drew the line at arson and rioting).

But apart from that, Reading is surely the most commercial, whored-out and pimped up event I’ve ever had the mispleasure of attending. At every turn is an overly-loud, multi-coloured message screaming at you to buy more Carling. Or a Nokia phone. Or whatever other brands were on board – I had seen so much brazen advertising over the first two days I think my mind started to block them out in order to stop itself frying and exploding from the pressure of too much commercial brainwashing. On my return home I was informed by The Guardian that Carling’s sales went from 3m to 5.7m barrels annually after they started sponsoring live music. The hilarious things is that Carling tastes fucking disgusting. It’s like drinking murky piss. I’ve never met a single person who prefers the taste of Caring to other beers, and it doesn’t even have a high alcohol content so you can throw that possible reason for its sales out the window. But people still drink it. They drink it purely because of its relentless advertising, branding and marketing, re-wiring their brains into actually thinking that it's a good drink.

One act that I did spend a good deal of time watching, however, was the burlesque cabaret. I’m sure you’re all aware that this has been very in vogue in recent years, and many of its performers have dressed the whole thing up in gender politics and trotted it out re-packaged as the new face of feminism, the latest makeover of the great sexual liberation movement, or something similar. Now maybe I was missing something, but I didn’t really see much of that going on in the performances I saw. Don’t get me wrong, they were good fun, with their quirky outfits, routines and music, but that was it. They were fun and entertaining. They didn’t make me rethink gender or sexuality or the human form, they just made me laugh occasionally. I don’t have a problem with burlesque, I love theatre and performing arts and watching people on stage, but why can’t it just be accepted for what it is without having to make up some kind of pseudo-intellectual ‘feminist’ babble to justify it? Feminism has real battles to fight, lives to save and sufferings to end; it shouldn’t be used to try and dress up trendy stage shows. I am all for some kind of performance that genuinely does play with gender and sexuality, that challenges and subverts our expectations of it, but this wasn’t it. Maybe I was just watching the wrong performance – if anyone knows of any artists doing something more profound, then please let me know. I’m genuinely interested in what’s out there.

2006-08-24T02:24:00.000-07:00

Off to Reading now. I shall return shortly. Much love xx

2006-08-22T10:13:00.000-07:00

I just checked the TV guide for tonight, and am pretty gutted to be reminded that Big Brother is no more.... or at least, not until next summer. I don't actually watch television much, in fact I despise most of it, but I am ashamed to say that every year I get hopelessly addicted to BB. I can easily see the problems that many have with it - for one, I thought it was absolutely shameful that the producers put Shebaz in the house, a man who was clearly unwell, and let the situation descend into the mess that it did. I am also thoroughly disturbed at the vitriol dished out to some contestants, especially when their flaws seem to only amount to immaturity and lack of self-awareness. And who hasn't been guilty of those at some point in their lives? But the thing that turns my stomach the most violently is the sick glorification of celebrity for celebrity's sake that the show permeates. All the contestants are there to become famous just for the sake of being famous - they don't care how they get there. Whatever happened to celebrating people with real goals and ambitions, people who have really achieved things?

But despite all its gross aspects, BB does have some redeeming features. For starters, it tends to be the people who are genuinely nice that win, not the ones that acted the most extreme or flashed the most flesh. This gives me at least a little faith in the public. It has also been noted by many that the programme may be making us more accepting as a nation - a transexual has previously won it, and there has always been a homosexual contestant in the final. I think that the best example of how BB can challenge people's perceptions from this year's show isn't Pete, the winner, who suffers from tourettes, but the 'ghetto princess' Aisleyne. When she first went in the house the usual sexist and snobby remarks were made and she was expected to be out within a few weeks. But Aisleyne showed sensitivity, intelligence and depth, hopefully forcing viwers who'd judged her to realise something about themselves and the way they view others. She may not have won but she came third, which is pretty good going considering some of the strong characters she was up against.

But who am I kidding? The reason I love Big Brother is probably because it DOES provide me with mindless, brain-numbing entertainment that feeds my base instincts. It has great moments in it, but overall is complete trash. It's a nasty, exploitative human zoo. But every year I still fall for it, and despite my attempts at some analysis, I know I'm really no better than the heat-reading masses.

2006-08-22T04:13:00.000-07:00

Hello there. Well, I decided to get myself a blog, with the intention of getting my thoughts, musings and rants out there, and of course practicing my writing. I shall return shortly, but right now I'm off to grab myself a bagel with peanut butter. mmmmmm mmmm.