Halloween makes it too easy for us gender bloggers

If we were ever uncertain about the prevalence of strict gender roles in our country, Halloween is always there to remind us. Last year, I explored the ridiculously limited array of costumes for boys and girls. Visit any costume website, and you'll likely see princesses and ballerinas for girls, ninjas and superheroes for boys.

These stereotypes affect us all because they condition us to embrace certain characteristics and resist others, depending on our gender.

A friend posted this video on Facebook today. It's from the Onion, and is obviously meant to be a spoof on shows like Good Morning America. The topic is how to come up with masculine costumes for decidedly effeminate boys.



It's a funny video, but with any humorous spoof, there's an ounce of truth in its depiction. It has a sense of speaking the unspoken, of revealing a perspective that many parents subconsciously ascribe to, but are afraid to admit to out loud -- the desire to keep boys from becoming effeminate.

It's interesting because in this era of girls' soccer and girls' rising performance in traditionally masculine subjects like math, we don't seem to be as afraid of girls becoming more like boys.

I think that this is because our culture is afraid of the feminine. Unlike masculinity, femininity indicates weakness and emotionality. I have seen countless parents do everything possible to keep their sons from being interested in dolls. Just watch any rerun of Jon and Kate Plus Eight, particularly in the early years, and you'll see tiny and not-so-tiny gestures that remind the boys that they are not interested in anything pink or frilly or motherly.

Again, we're right back to where Simone de Beauvoir was in The Second Sex -- everything masculine is elevated and praised; everything feminine is deemed second rate. This is largely because the feminine is only defined in relation to the "normal" male sex. Femininity is an aberration.

If only we lived in a world where boys and girls were encouraged to choose from the smorgasbord of human characteristics at will. Maybe we would see effeminate vampires and prancing robots. Maybe we'd also see female superheroes or peace-loving ninjas. The possibilities for Halloween and otherwise are endless.

Finally! Flab-sucking undergarments for men

Time calls them "mancessories," or the fashion industry's latest attempt to suck men into its unattainable standards.

And when I say "suck," I mean it literally.

Yes, ladies, now as you stuff your cellulite into Spanx before sliding into that slinky cocktail dress, your male counterpart can do the same. (Well, maybe sans dress. Maybe.)

Apparently, along with murses (purses for men) and mandals (sandals for men), a company called Equmen is producing Spanx-like undergarments that enhance the six-pack abs look and (and this is perhaps my favorite part of the Time article) "keep their precision parts cooler."

Contrary to popular belief, subjecting men to the same kinds of ridiculous fashion scrutiny as women is not the equality that most feminists are seeking.

However, sometimes watching the fashion world require these standards for men brings to light how ridiculous they were in the first place when applied to women. I mean, since when did our culture become obsessed with tightly sucking our bodies into one "ideal" form? It's like the return of the Victorian corset, and it actually makes me long for the oversized t-shirts of the '80's. Seriously.

The dilemma presented by the fashion industry's simultaneous obsession with thinness and "natural beauty" is perhaps best epitomized in that great scene from Bridget Jones's Diary, when Bridget has to decide between the Spanx-like, form-sucking underwear that come up to the top of her stomach (and are thus unattractive to a lover, should the evening progress to that point) and the Victoria's Secret thong-like number (that should encourage said lover in his pursuit once he's begun, but may not create the attraction necessary to initiate the undressing in the first place).



Now, I can't help but wonder if men will face the same dilemma. Will a man ask himself if a fake six pack and an enhanced sense of "precision parts" is worth the price tag and the possible subsequent humility when his partner discovers that his looks are not "natural"? With the prevalence of plastic surgery, this doesn't seem too far off the mark.

Why we love Susan Boyle (from a feminist perspective)

If you've seen this video posted on everyone's Facebook page, tweeted about on Twitter, and watched thousands of times on Youtube but just assumed it was another American Idolesque fad, you couldn't be more wrong.

I've now viewed it four times, and each time, I burst into tears. I thought it was just me, but then I showed my rather stoic partner, Joe, and he, too, burst into tears. In fact, he promptly watched it through a second time and then pulled out our Les Mis soundtrack and declared that Susan Boyle's version was better.

So what is it that gets us about this woman? I mean, the whole world seems incredibly moved and affected by Boyle's performance.

While Simon Cowell and the other judges touched on it a bit, I think they need the aid of a gender lens to truly understand what all the hype is about. It's not just that Boyle appeared frumpy, nervous, and goofy before pulling off a sincerely moving performance; it's that she defies our expectations of an acceptable female singer. Namely, she's shown that good looks are not a requisite for the presence of a good voice.

I would venture to say that most of the audience -- me included -- assumed that an older gray-haired woman with bushy eyebrows, dressed in a faded housedress, could not have a decent voice. I don't think we hold men to nearly the same standards. (Consider, for instance, gray-haired Taylor Hicks or overweight Ruben Studdard, both American Idol winners.)

In fact, we frequently offer disdain to female performers who do not match our society's stereotypes in terms of female beauty and body image. Think of Queen Latifah, once celebrated for her curvaceous vivaciousness, now spokeswoman for Jenny Craig. Marie Osmond is spokeswoman for Nutrisystem, and Wynonna Judd is the celebrity representative for Alli, a weight-loss drug. Over and over again, the message seems to be that female performers are not acceptable if they are not skinny, wrinkle free, and flawless.

Susan Boyle defies that image, and she does so with a lovable quirkiness and confidence. And now that record companies are knocking at her door, my only prayer is that she does not give in to the pressure to conform. I want her to grace her first album cover, wrinkles and all, with her gray hair wisping in every direction and her housedress clinging to her sides. I want this woman to continue to show us that look aren't everything and that regardless of what society tells us, we can dream any dream we darn well please.

The Disney fairy tale wedding fantasy continues

First, a disclaimer: I am really a huge Disney fan. I grew up with all the classics, visited the theme park (even as an adult), and I still have my old Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal who is at least 2 decades old.

And while I'm thankful to Disney for teaching me that even roly poly bears like Pooh deserve to be loved for their fluff and stuff, and that, in the end, good usually triumphs over evil, I'm pretty mad at Disney for messing up my perceptions of love.

It took me a long time to recognize that despite my tomboy nature and my sense of independence, I too had fallen victim to the fantasy of the Disney fairy tale princess mentality. For most of my teenage and college years, I assumed that marriage would make me happy. I wore dresses to proms, dreamed of big diamond engagement rings, and planned out the perfect wedding in my mind.

And get this: I actually owned a wedding journal when I was all of 17 years old. You may be wondering, what in the hundred acre woods is a wedding journal? Well, I'll tell you. It's a place where you write down all of your wedding plans, like the following (which were actually part of said journal):

-Buy a dress with lots of tulle (which now makes me say "GOOD GOD, WHAT WAS I THINKING?")

-Give my husband the letter I wrote to him when I was 17. (I had written this letter to my future husband, whomever that might be. It was the cool thing to do as a Christian girl who wasn't allowed to have premarital sex. You were supposed to channel that energy to the imaginary man with whom you'd one day have sex and envision all the things that he would be. I've since wished that I could find this elusive letter to see all the ways that Joe DOESN'T meet my 17-year-old requirements... which is, of course, a very, very good thing.)

-Release butterflies at the end of the ceremony. (Little did I realize that to do this, the butterflies have to be shipped overnight, and some inevitably die in transit. Then, every guest gets a little box to open at the big "release" moment. After learning all of this, I had nightmares about my flower girl excitedly opening her box to a dead butterfly and spending the entire reception in tears.)

So the problem with all of these obsessive wedding-planning practices is that they perpetuate the Disney fairy tale myth, namely that marriage makes all stories end happily ever after. As most committed, monogamous couples know, the moment you pledge to stay together "as long as you both shall live" is the moment when things actually begin to get hard...really hard. And ten years later? Things get harder.

In short, Disney LIED!

Yet many heterosexual women rush into marriage, buoyed by the hope of eternal bliss that Disney so carefully portrays in Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty (the triad of princess classics). In addition, many women choose to stay in relationships that have long gone sour (or worse, that have turned abusive) because they cling to the idea that their marriage should be happy and their princess lifestyle should last and last.

So should it surprise us that beginning in 2007, Disney unveiled its line of princess-inspired wedding gowns? Here's what they have to say about every girl's socially constructed "dream":

The Gown, The Slipper, The Kiss and The Prince. Under it all, every girl believes in the dream. So here is our tribute to fairy tale wishes and finding true love.

Guess it's time to get out those wedding journals, ladies. (Just try to avoid the dead butterflies, if you can.)

Obsessed with the dress

She has degrees from Princeton AND Harvard. Her secret service code name is "Renaissance." But what we're most concerned about as a nation is what she's wearing.

The Guardian states that she is now the most powerful woman...
in fashion.

I was extremely disappointed with the over-coverage of Michelle's dress on Inauguration Day. I wanted to hear speculation on her participation in policy issues as First Lady, what strengths she brings to the office and what goals she hopes to accomplish. Instead, I heard a barrage of descriptions about her clothing.

I can't remember what news channel I was watching (I was switching back and forth between a few), but I remember the male commentator announcing that Barbara Walters would be joining him for insights into Michelle Obama on this monumental day. I leaned forward in my seat. This is what I'd been waiting for! The witty, intelligent, forward-thinking Barbara Walters to talk about the real Michelle.

Not so.

Barbara came on for a mere 5 minutes and talked ONLY about Michelle's dress.

Every newspaper and magazine carried detailed description of what Michelle wore, including mention of her designer, Isabel Toledo. Most also mentioned what Barack wore, in nondescript sentences like this one: President Barack Obama wore a red tie and white shirt with his suit.

Why this overemphasis on women's fashion? It hearkens back to our culture's obsession with women's appearance: our body types, what we wear, how much money we spend on our looks.

Perhaps the saddest part of this whole spectacle is that the Obama daughters, Sasha and Malia, are being socialized the same way. Yahoo News said, "Their daughters were style icons in their own right," and then proceeded to describe, in detail, what the girls wore. No one praised their intelligence or their character.

(The headline for the article containing the above picture read, "Obama women give inauguration ensembles modern twist: Orange and pink is the new red, white and blue")

So after all of this news coverage, I began to feel like Michelle was yet another victim of society's obsession with fashion. But what if she used this obsession to her own benefit?

Here's my thought: Michelle's inauguration dress was made by a Cuban-born designer. What if this, in itself, was a political statement? Perhaps a response to Amercians' outcry during the campaign that Obama was a Communist? Perhaps an attempt to bring visibility to our immigrant community?

In my Gender Lens Fantasy, I picture this conversation the night before the Inauguration:

M: Ugh, I just don't know what to wear tomorrow.
B: It's just a dress. Besides, you look great in everything.
M: It's not just a dress. Every news outlet everywhere will be scrutinizing it down to the last thread. You just wait.
B: It will be OK.
M: I just wish I could make a more lasting contribution in this role as First Lady. I don't want to comment on fashion. I want to comment on foreign policy, immigration issues, my own vision for justice.
B: But it's just a dress, honey. A dress can't do that.
M: What if it could? Everyone will be talking about it anyway. What if I wear a dress that forces them to talk about political issues as well?
B: It's just a dress.

And maybe it is just a dress. But maybe not. Maybe Michelle Obama is finding a way to talk back to the system of gender oppression while still working within it. Maybe she's pretending to acquiesce to the gender expectations she's given while simultaneously transforming them. Maybe.