The Trouble with Women

Reason to grumble...

Casual sexism is regularly overlooked. You cannot even buy a pint of milk from the corner shop without being bombarded with advertisements featuring images of over-sexualised women or chocolate bars marketing themselves as ‘not for birds’. Sexism has been trivialised and labelled as frivolous, as just a bit of harmless fun; we have become immune to it. Yet every once in a while I find myself gasping at more overt instances of evident patriarchy.

Take The Sunday Times Style magazine column, ‘The Trouble with Women’. I have a deep-rooted love for this sophisticated lifestyle and fashion supplement, but when I first saw this title, I thought there must be some kind of a joke going on. It couldn’t be what it says on the tin. Could it?Yes, it could. I found that it was a column that allowed men to vent their frustration at (misunderstanding) women’s behaviour, making The Sunday Times an avenue to proliferate their conservative ideologies and coach women on how to a good wife. … continue reading this entry.

Scrawled across my Valentine’s Day card of choice is ‘I love to watch you while you sleep’, in those kidnapping letters. If that doesn’t spell out love then I don’t know what love is…

If that doesn't spell out love, then I don't know what love is.

So Valentine’s Day is upon us, which gives us singletons every reason to be bitter and sickened at the day that is devoted to celebrating soppy love of the worst kind. But as I am sat writing this in Black Medicine Coffee, I realise that, as a singleton, I love Valentine’s Day.

Yes, I may be surrounded by loved-up couples; but, as I eavesdrop on their banal conversions and their petty squabbles over who gets the last bite of the cookie, I thank myself for remaining true to myself. For not giving into finding someone, anyone in fact, even the fat, ugly and the boring, to keep me company this February fourteenth. Okay, so I may not feel this elated on Valentine’s Day every year. But I am very lucky this year to have friends to celebrate the day of love with. After all, the celebration of love shouldn’t be confined to simply Eros. … continue reading this entry.

A singleton life…

Will you be my Mr. D'Arcy?

Number of men solicited for a date: double figures.
Number of dates successfully executed: a big fat zero.
Number of days until the formidable Valentine’s Day: not enough.

This week I have been asking every person of the opposite sex whether they are single, in the hope that I, or one of our blind daters, would have more luck this Valentine’s Day. … continue reading this entry.

Do career women make bad mothers?

Do career women make bad mothers?

Over the Christmas break, I had the displeasure of being dragged to a nightclub. Not a particularly good nightclub either, but one of those where they rob you of your five pounds before you can even place your foot onto the sticky, sweat-infested carpet, a nightclub in which you immediately regret not being in your warm, cosy bed at 2am as you attempt to dance to Cheryl Cole’s ‘Fight For This Love’. Trust me; I tried it and you cannot physically dance to this track. It is soulless. … continue reading this entry.

Is socialism sexy?

Is politics sexy?

British politics has never really been considered sexy. When you think about politics, over-privileged old men in matching navy suits comes to mind. These men, also known as wanky toffs – ahem, I mean politicians – spend their days debating societal matters of which they have absolutely no experience and therefore comprehend in terms of political ideologies that are as far removed from the issues as astronomical physics, which they studied at Eton and Oxbridge, of course. … continue reading this entry.

This week, Sara’s great but….

I'm late for an important date. Again.

I’m running late. Again. My heart is pounding as I power walk to the theatre production I’m supposed to be reviewing; I dodge in and out of the crowds of slow walkers. A quick glace at my watch shows that I have four minutes to get to the theatre and pick up my press tickets, which, I estimate, should take ten. I shake my head, not in disbelief, but annoyance at my continued unpunctuality. … continue reading this entry.

This week Sara, unconverted by a Games Messiah, laments the decline and fall of a British Grumbler…

Sex God aka Charlie Brooker.

We all have opinions, and that is why we all love reading other people’s opinions. It’s not so much to agree with them, to dotingly follow their every thought process, as to disagree with them, to laugh at and, occasionally, seek advice from them.

… continue reading this entry.

Boyd and the Bard: published in Student 1/12/2009.

Michael Boyd by Dan Smeeth

Michael Boyd, the artistic director of the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC), is finally reaping the rewards for turning a seemingly troubled theatre on its head. Last week, Boyd returned to his undergraduate days as an English Literature student at the University of Edinburgh to receive an honorary degree for his contributions to theatre. … continue reading this entry.

Gender Boundaries, Student.

Transcending the boundaries

Opposites are entrenched within society. Black, white. Rich, poor. Gay, straight. Male, female. We are continually defined in binaries. At every box we are obliged to tick, we are pigeonholed into unrealistic social conventions. But what about the grey area? … continue reading this entry.

Words are the models, words are the tools… Student

Back-street abortion by Dan Smeeth

Radicalism is going back to the drawing board. And by drawing board, I mean back to the power of the word. Local Edinburgh publishers and independent bookshop, Word Power, launched its 13th Independent and Radical Book Fair this weekend, which saw authors come together with the public to talk about and inspire political activism. The power of the word is having a comeback. … continue reading this entry.

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