I suppose, you REALLY know you’re an adult when no-one thinks to remind you about Daylight Saving Time™.
I’m also in a good mood because we’ve just had Me Number 2s hen do. And what a do!
Growing up I never thought I’d get to do a hen do! But the winds of change meant it was a boys AND girls affair.
Take that 90s, with your Barbie’s, and your GI Joes…
“The One With the Hen Do”
Their advice essentially boils down to “why don’t you do a bit of light stalking? That’s what we’d do…” Understandably this comes off a little less well when it’s gender-swapped…
God, it’s like there’s one rule for women and another for men, ay?
Considering my children aren’t even a twinkle in my eye yet I seem to spend a huge amount of time talking about the issue of gendering children. Would I let my son play with a Barbie? In theory yes, but I’d prefer if they had toys that were less binary altogether. Whether for a girl or a boy, the less impact our hyper-gendered culture has on them, the more chance they have of becoming a well-rounded individual.
If I had my way I’d go so far as to say: No pink. No dresses.
Don’t misunderstand me here; I have no problem with people wearing pink, or men wearing dresses (as anyone who’s seen me dressed as Princess Leia will attest). The problem is the way people treat young children because of their gender. It’s so ingrained in our culture it comes second nature to us. Girls are looking very pretty today; boys are looking big and strong…
Surely for your kid to have a fighting chance it shouldn’t so easy for people to treat them this way so early on? Let them be babies for a while before they’re forced into the roles culture has assigned them!
Ideally, I wouldn’t even want to know the sex, for fear it would influence us in anything we buy before the birth. But I definitely won’t have the guts for that, if there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s my partner knowing something I don’t…
Sorry, I should say “my fiancée” now shouldn’t I?
I had a nice realisation the other day, that “fiancée” is gender-neutral (at least when it’s spoken…). But that quickly turned sour when I realised the non-specific word for husband or wife is “spouse”. I don’t think my feminist credentials will ever be strong enough to use such an ugly word.
Ultimately that’s what it boils down to, although I am a feminist, and try to fight all injustice I see – I can’t help the niggling feeling that the only way to get true equality is to reject gender entirely.
And if I don’t quite care enough about the cause to reject my own gender, I can hardly force it on another being, can I?
Look at me, talking about marriage and children without any obvious fear of commitment.
Unlike Chandler I really must be through the metaphorical tunnel…
Or at least I certainly don’t have any room for fear of commitment anymore. It’s much too late for that!
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
Chandler Number 2 did a cracking job with the hen do which, along with copious amounts of alcohol, included an entertaining crash course in life drawing.
I found the act of LITERALLY objectifying the models surprisingly relaxing. The moment
charcoal hit paper they stopped being a sexy naked person, and became a more timeless, well… object. Like the brace of pheasants almost two years back, no longer a living being but a piece of meat, measured and accounted for.
It’s another quirk of our gendered society that we usually talk of objectifying people sexually (mostly women…) but through the act of drawing they became completely de-sexualised.
This isn’t to say they weren’t very attractive people! Ross Number 2 in particular seemed very impressed with the male models, ahem, ‘piece of charcoal’. They went so far as to make several inappropriate Chandler-esque jokes. Hey Ross Number 2 stick to your character please!
The highlight, however, was a rather unexpected discovery by David the Science Guy. After finding the models ‘piece of charcoal’ a little unfamiliar, he took the opportunity of being among friends to ask a few sensitive questions.
After a few graphic details, and one quick trip to the bathroom with one of our Jewish friends, we were all surprised to discover he was completely unaware of his circumcision.
Now that’s a conversation I wouldn’t want to have with my parents…