Watching women’s Olympic sports gives me so much life.

What can I say, I love strong women doing amazing things, going after their dreams, and supporting each other.  Also there was just a segment on Shelly-Ann Fraser-Price from Jamaica and she has had an incredible journey.  I can’t even formulate coherent thoughts on all this fierceness.

Russians Viktoria Komova and Aliya Mustafina, who won silver and bronze respectively in the women’s gymnastics all-around competition Thursday evening, were in good spirits as they answered questions from reporters during post-meet press conference at the 02 Arena.

The two Russians were complimentary of American Gabrielle Douglas, who won the gold medal by 0.259 over Komova, the reigning World all-around silver medalist. “She performed beautifully today,” 17-year-old Komova said through a translator. “And I believe that she earned her gold medal. She was very, very good tonight.”

Echoed Mustafina: “I absolutely agree with Viktoria. She was fantastic. She didn’t make a single mistake. She became the leading athlete from the very beginning.”


A Room of One’s Own
Hogarth Press First Edition



A Room of One’s Own

Hogarth Press First Edition

The strongest characters in the story are female.

—David Benioff

(Source: firemadeflesh)

Woman in Comedy: A really scary thing happened to me last night at a comedy show.


Part of me thinks it’s too soon to be writing about this because I don’t think I’ve completely processed how I feel, but I also think maybe this has happened to other women and I should talk about it in as raw a way as possible. I’m still really embarrassed and ashamed and garbled up inside, but maybe this can start a helpful discussion in terms of women and comedy.

Last night, I was on a stand up show in the East Village. The show started out with a small crowd and the host did an amazing job interacting with them and riling them up. By the time I got on stage, there were about 20 or so more people in the audience and the place had really filled up. The show was still kind of loose because of the back and forth between the host and the audience, so when I got on stage, I riffed a bit about the stuff that had happened before and then talked to one guy on the side of the audience who the host had dubbed “Banana Republic.” All joke-y. All in good fun.

Then, I start my actual set and do my first two jokes, which go pretty okay. I start another joke that is vaguely sexual - not crude, not crass - mainly silly and that goes well too. The next joke I do is about my boyfriend.

At a comedy show, when you’re on stage, usually you can’t see the audience because of the bright lights. So I’m looking into pitch darkness. As I start the joke, someone yells, “Does your boyfriend know?” referring to the sexuality joke I’d just told. I stop, laugh and say that he does because I think it’s just more of the loose environment that’s been going on at this show. I attribute it to an audience member just having fun.

I start to tell the joke about my boyfriend again, and at the midway point, the same voice yells something else derogatory about my boyfriend, homophobic and misogynistic towards me. I stop, confused. I can’t see who is talking to me so I make a HUGE mistake and say, “Sir, if you’re gonna talk to me, you need to come to the front because I can’t see you.” I think calling him out like this will shut him up.

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What I Learned About Myself From This Ridiculous Countdown: ↘




Having committed each and every sin on here, to most men, I AM SUPPOSEDLY THE MOST UNATTRACTIVE WOMAN ON THE PLANET. 

(No, seriously, this list is stupid.) 

Alternate title: Everything You Wear Is Terrible And You Will Be Ugly No Matter What

The only thing that’s left is long straight hair. Um, no. I have things to do.

This is an example of women being taught to hate themselves.  The cutesy disclaimer about ~maybe your smokey eye is just for you~ doesn’t cut it.  There is no one who ascribes to this standard of beauty, but a list like this makes every lady panic a little.

(Source: morgulblade)

And then we got there. The moment I stopped caring. Amy is surrounded by killer robots, in possession of a life-saving tool that can do anything she can think up, and Rory actually has to instruct her to “think” something. But even this isn’t condescending enough, apparently. Because Amy then turns to Rory, and asks him: “What do I think?”

Jesus, Amy. I don’t know. If Moffat cared enough to give you a recognizable human thought process, I’d still be watching Doctor Who.

(Source: variationsonrelations)

My old lip color could barely keep up with my busy schedule. In the time it takes to notice the wide discrepancy between my salary and that of my male peers, I’d have to reapply! In the seconds to count the number of women in high political office, seated on corporate executive boards and featured in film and television over the age of 40, my lip color would be as invisible as this glass ceiling only inches above my head! L’Oreal. Because I am worth. And because holding myself to an impossible standard of beauty keeps me from starting a riot!

— Maria Bamford, in a bit about lipstick commercials

(Source: susnom)

When I leave my house, I don’t want to get punched in the face or hit by a car while I’m on a sidewalk.


But I don’t feel the need to wear a helmet or travel by forest paths with no nearby roads. I instead just walk around like a normal person and expect people not to punch me in the face or hit me with a car. Because the onus is not on me to avoid these things; The onus is on the rest of society to not do them to me because they’re against the law. You can’t go around punching people or running over pedestrians. If I was punched in the face or run down by a car I would not expect a police officer to say “Well you should have been wearing a helmet” or “You should have tried the mountain path away from the roads”. That would sound insane. And luckily, everyone would agree that that would be insane. It’s a crazy hypothetical that I don’t have to worry about.

If I was a woman however I’d apparently have to worry about it every single day, and I find that thought to be more than just haunting; It’s disgusting, and it’s embarrassing.

The fact that the ‘slutwalk’ is necessary is an embarrassment to our entire society, and we should all be ashamed of ourselves for not punching people in the face or better yet running them down in our cars when they blame the skirt before they blame the rapist.

It’s odd that compassionate and righteous outlooks are rare enough to merit gratitude, but regardless, thank you for understanding that rape culture threatens women every day.  Whether they wear short skirts or not has nothing to do with that threat.  Apparently this is a difficult concept for a significant chunk or the population to grasp.

i cant wait for the feminist write ups on Suckerpunch tbh.


i havent even seen the trailer, but from i have seen… it’s about a troop of women in less than practical outfits for combat, but the perfect lack of material to showcase the goods. do they have some sort of leader? does this leader have a penis?

male gazey scorned woman fighting crime or some irrelevant action to see woman in short tight sexy outfits getting dirty.

can’t wait.

You know I’m totally going to compose one such diatribe.  It will be better if I can get drunk & take the bus to the movie theater in order to dull my feelings about the patriarchy to the point of lulz instead of despair.  I used to fence and would not want to do so in fishnets, chaps, or hot pants.  Even those dull foils hurt through padding when you get stabbed in the neck.  So have fun fighting dragons with a wedgie, ladies.

Would a female writer and/or director and/or costume designer have allowed our heroines pants?  Because all of these positions are filled by dudes in this film.  

It will be nice to see a film that passes the Bechtel test, so I’m looking forward to that part.  Though I want to believe that this will be ~empowering~, I think it will ultimately be about as empowering as stripper aerobics.  This article comes to mind.

I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you.

Jane Eyre

Charlie Sheen gets to have his moment in a hotel room with hookers and becomes cool, getting kudos from it. If that was a girl she’d be considered a dirty little slapper [a whore] and pounded out of town. Girls have to be so nice. A girl can’t even say something vaguely confrontational in an interview, it’s all about sweetness. It makes everything so insipid.

Rosamund Pike

I hope Charlie Sheen is completely ruined after all this. I already hated him for being a rampant abuser of women (and I don’t just mean using hookers and contributing to that gendered culture of degradation and exploitation; I, more importantly, mean hitting women with whom he was sexually involved). And now with all the admiration he is getting from people everywhere, even from people I like and follow on tumblr, I feel sick. 

(via princepsfemina)

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