In various places ’round the feminist blogosphere, I have been deemed part of the (here comes your favorite word, Jenny) Sparklepony Brigade. We’ll put aside for now the fact that I can’t believe anybody is actually using that word seriously, and move along to the other reason this is particularly hilarious.
I just have to laugh, a somewhat bitter “are you fucking kidding me?” laugh at this designation. Me? Presumed to be “adhering to conventional beauty standards” (*guffaw*) and “supporting the status quo?”
If there was every any doubt that these people don’t know who I am, it has now been eliminated.
The bitter part comes from that fact that throughout middle school and about half of high school, I was the ugly girl. Looking back, I wasn’t actually ugly; but they (yes, they) had me pegged that way, and it stuck, and that was that. I was the ugly girl who dressed weird and had unruly hair and listened to weird music and couldn’t afford name brand clothing and didn’t want it anyway. They called me “freak.” When I had the audacity to actually ask out a boy, he responded by pretending to vomit; there was much approving laughter from on-lookers.
And now, people on the internet are saying I’m upholding the status quo and perpetuating beauty rituals for women! Ye gods!!
I don’t wear make-up. I have short hair because I can’t be bothered to deal with anything else (well, and because I like the way it looks on me). I shave my legs once in a while, if the stubble starts to itch. I rarely wear skirts. I don’t like a lot of pink or other “girly” stuff. Sometimes [stupid] people assume I’m a lesbian.
And it’s even funnier when you start listing out the other people who are part of this horrifying Sparklepony Army… Belledame, Kactus, Antiprincess, Trinity, Ren… seriously, we’re the ones enforcing the status quo? With what magical powers?
People say that Ren, arguably, does fit the conventional media-perpetuated beauty standard, but I don’t think she does, actually. But I guess because she admits to waxing and wearing make-up (hello, it’s part of her job), that’s enough to make her Public Enemy #1.
That is all for now. I have to go put on a skirt (yes, it’s one of those rare occasions) and get ready to go to the Flesh and Fetish Swingers Ball with Rusty.
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11 Responses to "Me and what army?"
Never underestimate the ability of people to make you whatever they need at this particular moment, especially when there’s a point to be proven. They need “tool of the patriarchy?” That’s you.
And my high school nickname was “Medusa.” So, um, fuck them.
Well, I mean, wtf. I wear make up. It’s summertime. I think dresses are less hot to wear when it’s 100 out instead of pants. These women are motherfucking ridiculous is what they are. The entire point of feminism is that you get to choose who you are - no one else gets to define it. Not even other feminists. It’s tough shit, isn’t it, but it’s part of the deal.
I know. I am so fascinated by this idea that I’m a sparklepony. I’m a butchy leather top. How is that sparkly and femmey? Just because I defend people’s right to be so does not mean I am so. Yeesh.
I know, it reminds me of Kim’s high school teacher that she wrote about who defended gay people, so clearly she must have been gay herself! (That’s how the mind of a 15-year-old works, but then we’re supposed to grow up…)
..and here’s come a related story. Amber and I went out for trivia in Augusta a few years back with two of my new co-workers. Because I didn’t have a boyfriend and because Amber has short hair and because I scraped my tomatoes onto her plate, we were deemed to be lesbians.
Completely agree. Even though I struggle with the whole domestic housewife isn’t what feminists fought for kind of thought..
Ha! They thought we were lesbians because of that?? Hilarious!
Also, one time in Athens, my friend Danielle and I went out for dessert at DePalma’s. We were two short-haired chicks not wearing make-up and not carrying purses, sharing a humungous piece of chocolate cake. We figured the waiter definitely thought we were lesbian lovers. (We laughed because not only is it just funny anyway, but I was married at the time and she had a boyfriend)
In high school my best friend Samantha and I wanted something more interesting than those stupid charms you break in half to symbolize our friendship. We decided we wanted matching rings. So we went to a jewelry store and looked at cheapo wedding bands. Then suddenly we realized what the salesman must think of these two sixteen year olds looking at wedding bands and started cracking up.
I don’t see what the big freaking deal is about wearing makeup or skirts/dresses or heels or getting your damned nails done. It makes me feel good, not because I think that any man out there gives a fuck but because *I* like it. So why does anyone else think they get a say in whether that disqualifies me from feminism or makes me a tool of the patriarchy? And why should expressing that viewpoint make someone an apologist?
There are so many incredibly stupid people in the world, I guess the feminist corner of the blogosphere shouldn’t necessarily be immune but it seems like so often they find dumbass things to fight over and get upset about. There are much bigger fish to fry in the world for women than those of us who dare to wear makeup.
I’m really torn between giggling uncontrollably, both at the term “sparklepony” and the fact that you can be associated with it, and just flinging my laptop across the room and screaming, “Jesus fuck!”
But Jesus has been doing a little too much fucking in my world lately.
I’m choosing to laugh at blatant stupidity. This round, anyway.
Dude, what’s not feminist about feeling sexy and hot?
it’s pandering to the Patriarchy, it silences other wimmin, and it makes the baby Dworkin cry.
&^%$ the baby Dworkin.
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