vo0d0ogirl's blog: "The Vo0d0o That You Do"

I want to know when feminism died.  When it suddenly became okay again to objectify women because now we have a choice.  When did we decide 'choosing' to be a bikini clad baby oil wrestler made it any less demeaning? 

Shows like Mad Men, PanAm, and the Playboy Club glorify this outdated notion of women and give a false sense that somehow we chose to be in those positions and our sassy attitudes and short skirts.  At the time, I know it was the fashion.  But at the time, women only had the option of being school teachers, school nurses, or secretaries.  Professionally speaking, we’ve changed the world in a short amount of time.    

My mother was a child of the 60’s, and a woman of the 90’s.  She went from protest signs to pants suits.  She was at the core of the revolution, and she did it quietly, with grace and dignity.  I grew up watching her make more money than my father in a more difficult field and seeing her take on a man’s world and win.  Why aren’t we glorifying that?  It deserves to be celebrated.  

We still have a long way to go; women’s wages are still 75 cents to every dollar a man makes.  You still don’t see a lot of women on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.  So why this slip into being poor delicate flowers again?  These days we don’t just run the home and bear the children.  We run the home, bear the children, work a nine to five, bake for the bake sale, cook dinner, and still have time for a little roll in the hay.  We do it all.  We do it well.  We deserve recognition.    

So when you sit down to DVR your favorite shows, remember this: your daughter is watching you watching this.  She sees you leaving for work every day and coming home to watch women be treated like they know nothing and can be nothing but arm candy.  She’s learning that a sassy attitude and a killer pencil skirt are all it takes to get what you want, and all you want is to be on the arm of a man who treats you as less than.  She’s internalizing it, whether you realize it or not.   

 It may not seem that important now, but when your 18 year old walks out the door in a Hooter’s tank top and a smile, remember that what you do has more power than what you say.  Let’s show our girls that it isn’t a man’s world anymore.  It’s a woman’s world, and they are damned lucky to live in it.