How Life Would Differ In Feminist Utopia

Call yourself a feminist in the UK and, unless you’re chatting to Jeremy Corbyn (moment to appreciate 72% youth voting turnout!!) and the Spice Girls, you’re going to be met with at least some hostility. The most common criticism is that there’s legally nothing a man can do that a woman can’t, proving how we have gender equality aka you can shut up now love and get back in the kitchen instead. The key word of the opposition is legally. This argument reminds me of how when the Civil Rights Act was passed in America this was a de jure change, which meant segregation was illegal; however this couldn’t cause de facto change as socially people had become so accustomed to racism that no law could translate into their realities. In the UK, feminism isn’t needed to overcome sweeping legislative inequalities (from what I’m aware, but hit me up if I’m wrong) we need to focus on All The Small Things, Blink-182 style.

Often we view social changes as insignificant. Catcalling bothers you? Stop whining. You don’t like it when guys approach you in bars? Then start dressing like a homeless barrel. Want a career? Keep your legs closed. But humans are sociable creatures and so if our everyday lives are riddled with, put bluntly, people being shits, then it’s going to have a pretty big impact. I’ve compiled a list to show some of the ways my life would be different in a de facto feminist society.

I wouldn’t dumb myself down: I don’t even know how this happens. I just finished my International Baccalaureate exams, my IQ qualified me for Mensa and I’m 50,000 words into a novel- I’m a smart cookie. Why then do I feel compelled to let men mansplain words I already know or say stuff like *sharp intake of breath* *clutches cheeks* *Disney princess voice* ‘What book was Titanic based on?’ to make them laugh? Is masculinity so fragile that I round off the corners of my brain to make sure it doesn’t damage them? In feminist utopia, I’m shamelessly smart, full stop.

Should We Apologise For Blogging Breaks?

When most bloggers return after a little time out they seem to be full of sorrys *cue the best song on Lemonade (apart from All Night)* and so I want to clear up why I haven’t been like that. Ultimately, I don’t think there’s anything to apologise for and neither should you. After all, we Brits say sorry enough.

Breaks are good. Breaks are wonderful. If they weren’t then Kit Kat wouldn’t have made a whole advertising campaign out of them. So when I see someone take a break from the internet I think neither ‘how dare they stop writing!’ nor ‘they’ve missed a post and so I will never read their content ever again!’ I just presume they have a reason and so I find some new blogs to read in the meantime. Being under too much stress to blog or wanting to spend your free time with family instead or just being a bit bored of typing words onto a screen and having to take photos to match the words and find a filter to match the photo and then promote the whole thing before you miss the day that you promised to post on, are not feelings you should apologise for. It’s your hobby. If you want to give it a miss for a while then go ahead.

Especially because your readers care but like, realistically, not that much. It’s not like you’re Stevie Wonder who left it 10 years between albums. In fact you’re not even Zoella (probably. If you are Zoella then why are you reading my blog babe get back to doing something useful like filming a Primark haul) whose full time job is to make new content, so yes you’re apologising for being away from the people that have you read you from the past few months but… everyone reads multiple blogs. You don’t write the only blog in the world (although it would be great if I did because then I could monopolise the industry and make all the dollar). There’s nothing to be sorry for. 

8 Thoughts we all had during the Women’s March

The Women’s March was the best thing to happen for feminism in ages, but as photos flooded in, news teams documented the events and Piers Morgan continued trolling, what were we really thinking as the protests unfolded? Here are 8 thoughts we all had during the Women’s March. (Image courtesy of Katie my favourite slice of cake who can be found on Instagram @katiec2210)

Why can’t I stop crying? Oh I know, maybe because this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed: 600,000 people in Washington, 200,000 in LA, 200,000 in New York City, 100,000 in London plus thousands in Amsterdam, Paris, Melbourne, Mexico City etc. all letting Trump know that misogyny isn’t cool. No, the marches aren’t going to get him out of office (RIP Ending Climate Change), but they sent the president the memo that people power is at the heart of democracy. Cue non-waterproof mascara steaming down my face.

Why hasn’t someone gagged Piers Morgan yet? And no I don’t mean in a sexy, fifty shades of grey kind of way, I mean stuck a bed sock in his mouth and taped his fingers together to stop him from tweeting or speaking or even thinking. Obviously, I value freedom of speech and so I enjoy reading different perspectives but Morgs has a habit of just spewing out his view without any consideration for others. Like a kind of potato-faced volcano. I think gagging him is justified.

A-Z Before Bed

I saw this tag on someone else’s blog (but I genuinely can’t remember whose so soz to all the A-Z tag doers out there, just know that it could’ve been you) and I thought it was a really cute way to get to know somebody. Aka I thought my one year blogging anniversary was this week but it’s actually next week and I needed a filler post so ta-dah.

Waitrose essentially, you use the alphabet and every letter reflects a different aspect of you- I’m going to be alternating between things I hate in red and things I love in green to make it a bit more spicy (and also the colours of Nandos). So, moving Taylor Swiftly on… (That awkward moment when you realise the keyboard isn’t arranged in alphabetical order and you have to sing the ABC song to know which letter comes after E.)

Antifeminism. Duh.

Bb Brother It was his christening yesterday and honestly it was the cutest thing ever, however the age gap does prove serious problems- especially prominent when I’m pushing him round Caffè Nero and all the middle aged women with their Macchiatos and blueberry muffins stop mid-sip to whisper to the woman beside them about the ‘teen mum’. Like proper staring. They’d never make MI5.

Contouring My mantra is (biological essentials aside) if Kim Kardashian can do it then I probably can’t. Contouring is quite possibly the greatest evidence for this claim, followed by wearing double denim and naming offspring after directions.

That’s a Rap: Part 2

A few months ago- never thought I’d say that, it’s probably a sign that I should quit while my dedication’s still intact- I posted a post about the subliminal misogyny in the music industry, or more specifically, in rap music. You can find that post HERE. I don’t listen to a lot of rap, probably because when I see the names Tyga and Pitbull I think I’m on the RSPCA website not the iTunes charts and exit in a blind panic to go and find Adele’s new album aka real music elsewhere, so last time when I forced myself to listen to and analyse 10 rap tracks for my blog my ears genuinely bled a little bit. But what changed? Well Teamales, it’s rather simple: Fetty Wap. Now I really can’t explain why I feel like every ‘yeahhhh baby’ is addressed to me personally, but I do and this has left my internal struggle at an all-time high because, as those of you familiar with his music will recognise, he’s not the most respectful to the part of the population without penii. Every time one of his songs comes on my emotional confliction is triggered, half of me is all ‘Fetty don’t treat women like that!’ but then the bit that shuts up and dances is like Fetty PLEASE can I be your trap queen. And so because of this, I am motivated enough to write about rap again. But bear with all the stupid rapper names- I can’t pronounce them either.

679 Fetty Wap ft. Monty

Feeling the Liebster Love

Teamales! I’ve missed you- I was totally enjoying college until the part where they tell you you’re failing at English even though English is literaturely (I’m punning through the tears) the only thing you know how to do so half an hour crying, another hour talking through your life choices with some custard creams and an emotional text chat with Saoirse later I am finally glad to be writing for the people that matter again. You crazy kids. Thanks for sticking around, I’m probably way too introverted in my gratitude, but I really really mean it. Thank you for reading my nonsense.

And some people have gone the step further and nominated that nonsense for a Liebster Award! I’ve collected three (bit of a Liebster whore I know), picked my favourite questions and put them in a jumbo jet of post- so I can inflate my ego in one night instead of boring you for three. Firstly, thank you to Sophie the journalism star I met at Heat magazine that seems to have the coolest social life/wardrobe/selfie skills https://sophieellenthomas.wordpress.com/ Kelly who I still can’t believe cut all her hair off for charity(!) https://velvetandvibranium.wordpress.com/ and Peach & Kuma my favourite blogging duo (mainly because there is SO MUCH CAKE on their Instagram) http://theclosetplebeians.com/

Here are some pics of 1D to spice things up a bit