Hello dear reader,
I was going to give you some spiel about my background/upbringing/neuroses etc. but then decided midway through that it appears in my twenty-two years I have done nothing of real interest to either you or myself. This is probably largely owing to the fact that I am pathologically anti-social which leaves me with little more to offer up to you than a retelling of the blathering internal narrative that that has plagued and irritated both me and my psychologist (God bless him- not that I believe in the mystical and fickle patriarchal being you understand but it's a turn of phrase) for many many years.
Instead, perhaps I can interest you in some pop feminism???
I was reading in the Guardian today (my paper of choice, although, if I'm honest I only read the G2 as I can't be bothered with the kerfuffle of the broad sheet and actual news seems to be so morbid don't you think?) and came across one an article about Barbie. Apparently Barbie is turning 50. Yes, yes, I know it is hard to believe dear reader, considering her tits are still up by her chin (although nippleless which must have had Ken all shook up first time they got down to the wink wink nudge nudge) and there is not a single varicose vein protruding from her shapely legs like some obscene root vegetable or earth worm exposed to nuclear radiation nor is there a single dimple or bluing stretch mark on her eerily shiny peachy skin. However, 50 she is. And in celebration (in case you were wondering, I have realised that celebrating the "birthday" of a doll is a little peculiar at best and down right weird in reality) the Guardian had two feminist writers debate the merits and demerits of this icon of femininity.
Now, I realise I have spent an entire paragraph on the subject myself so feel free to shout "glass houses" at any point, but have "we", and I mean all those with a vagina, not got anything better to get all steamy about? Sexual harassment anyone? The sex trade? Female circumcision? Rape? Honour killings? There's a whole gory and gruesome list to choose from if you want to get riled, and this is most definitely the abridged addition, but I'd imagine that if we were to write up all the almost uncountable horrors and injustices inflicted upon our kind in the modern world then Barbie, with her 18"waist and perfect bosom, would probably be somewhere near the bottom along with Mother-in-law jokes and magic knickers. Far be it for me to criticise the good people at the Guardian, but can we please set these articulate minds to work on something a little more pressing?
I am not so obtuse as not to realise that writing this little critique only highlights my own disregard for the gorier feminist causes, I could have spent twenty minutes writing about sexual harassment, the sex trade, female circumcision, rape or honour killings, but the difference is that I am not a paid, card-carrying member of the feminist elite. These cropped-haired ladies have a platform and a readership, they have power, whilst I am, dear reader, just a neurotic twenty-something with too much emotional and intellectual energy to be productively channeled and this is just a form literary masturbation.