My dA!

I now have dA, so I don't have to put my terrible poetry up here!

Have a merry evening.

J xxx

Teenage Pregnancy and Bristol Palin

Now and again a story will appear on Feministing.com that touches a nerve, and this is the latest one:

Bristol Palin: Don't Get Pregnant Unless You're Privileged

When I watched the clip, I found myself in complete agreement with Jos, who created the post, and her description of the whole thing as "generally creepy."

Firstly, aside from all feminist issues, this is extremely classist. Right, everyone, wait till you're a politician's rich daughter before you get pregnant! Nothing else could possibly do your baby any good... What's that? You're poor? Sorry, poor mothers are incapable. Forget it.

I'm not denying that, purely on a practical level, waiting until you can provide your baby with the best chance in life is the best policy. Getting educated, setting up a secure home and having a bit of life experience first is definitely a good idea. Children from poor families do, indeed, have a worst start in life than their wealthier counterparts. But who the hell is Candie's Foundation to give out the message that being privileged makes you a better mother than someone in less fortunate circumstances? This is just classist, through and through.

Secondly, why on Earth is Bristol Palin preaching abstinence? Clearly, the issue here is that she got pregnant, and doesn't actually seem to be doing too badly, given that she is supported and loved by her "famous family." Why are we confusing pregnancy with sex here?

When browsing the Candie's Foundation website, I came across a very irritating video that sees Jenny McCarthy forcing a screaming baby on a teenage girl who is just about to have sex in a car. Apart from the obvious fact that making out in a car does not equal baby in the arms (haha, quite laughable when you think about it), I think the message "Don't have sex because you could get pregnant" is extreme and misleading. I really don't understand why abstinence is somehow better for young people than being taught about good contraception and how to have fun without getting pregnant.

I'm not advocating sleeping around here, and I recognise that accidents happen, but I really don't see why a girl of Bristol Palin's age who wants to have sex sensibly should not do so.

When I did a bit more research into Candie's Foundation, I discovered they sell these hideous t-shirts. I was still unsure whether or not to write a blog-post on this topic until I discovered this link, and then I didn't have any doubt. This illustrates my pet-hate as a feminist: The sexy-pure double-standard. Eew.

As I keep preaching to my classmates--much to their irritation!--society tells us girls that we have to be sexy at the same time as being chaste. This hideous t-shirt design reinforces this double-standard in the most obvious and ridiculous way I have ever seen. I can't believe that girls feel comfortable wearing this. It's disgusting.

So, coming back to Bristol Palin... I'm not impressed. I hope lots of other girls aren't impressed too. If we want to reduce teenage pregnancy, we shouldn't be using it as an excuse to push abstinence, classism and double-standards.

J xxx

Feminist Corsetry

I've been using the last few days to work on my first corset and it's not far off the finish line! It's not perfect but for a first attempt--and I am SERIOUSLY inexperienced when it comes to dressmaking--I am quite pleased with it.

My mother, who has been teaching me how to use the sewing machine (turns out I can sew more neatly on it than her: mwahaha), has remarked several times that she is totally dismayed that she has failed to bring up a good feminist daughter. Excuse me? Several times I have tried to argue with her, and point out that a) I am a staunch feminist and b) corsets and feminism are not necessarily incompatible, but she continues to miss the point. OK, a good deal of this is friendly banter, but I do feel that Mum doesn't really understand my seemingly bizarre combination of ideals and practices.

I would never let Mum read this blog, but I think this provides me with a good opportunity to explain how corsets fit into feminism for me. After all, this is all about personal choice and what everyone is comfortable with on an individual level.

I have been fascinated with corsets for as long as I have been fascinated with women, history and feminism (most of my life, in other words). My GCSE English Creative Writing piece was entitled simply Corset and told the story of a rite of passage for a young late-Victorian girl: being laced into a corset for the first time. The girl's mother is a suffragette, while her father is a narrow-minded bastard, and the story culminates in the grateful protagonist serving her country in WWII without wearing a corset. Very safe, "nice," cutesy feminist stuff (I had only just turned fifteen) but the basic morals are there and I'm still a little bit proud of that piece.

I have a 1998 hardback Reader's Digest book, given to me by my grandmother, entitled Yesterday's Britain. For most of my childhood it has been a bible to me. It is battered, it boasts my seven-year-old handwriting inside the front cover proclaiming my full name and the address I lived at ten years ago, and it's stuffed with old bits of creative writing that were inspired by its pages. It's not exactly an intellectual history book--it's crammed full of pictures--but as a young girl it inspired me and it continues to do so. On one page is a brief article about corsets and a few entertaining pictures: an Edwardian advertisement and a picture of a tiny-waisted woman who I think might be Camille Clifford (see above pic). The page gave me the idea for my GCSE piece, and when I was twelve or thirteen I copied the picture of the corseted actress and spent ages shading the waist.

So I have always been drawn to corsets and corseted figures, yet passionately proud of my family background of strong working women, including a suffragette four generations back, and my developing feminism. I remember the scene in Titanic where Rose's character is laced into her corset by her mother, and, as an eight-year-old addicted to the only 12-rated film she could watch, that was the scene that really caught my imagination (aside from the scene where Jack draws Rose in her necklace. Ahem). I guess it's always been natural that I would make one, one day.

The conditions of making one:

1) That I would not be forced to wear it or under any pressure to wear it

2) That I would not wear it for any man (or indeed woman)

3) That it wouldn't be there to constrain me but, actually, to empower me.

This is where, predictably, Emilie Autumn comes in. When I became obsessed with EA, I marvelled at how she combines so many of my interests in one kick-ass package: history, corsets, "fighting like a girl," tea... She ticks all the boxes: she offers all of the things that I have adored since I was a little girl, which is why I am so addicted. And she's certainly helped me where corsetry is concerned. As she tells us in her Rule No. 3, "Your corset is your armour. Lace it tightly. Breathing is unimportant." OK, I would certainly argue that breathing IS fairly important, particularly if you are prone to stress (and what the Victorians might term hysteria) like yours truly, but the word I want to zoom in on here is "armour."

Corsets can be reclaimed by feminists. Instead of being a symbol of constraint and patriarchy, they can become our armour, our protection, and a bloody good way of doing what the hell we want. For me personally, a corset is a really empowering thing because it's tight, it fits me and it makes no apologies for being a woman's garment. I pull the lacing on it, no one is constraining me without my permission. It's my body, and I will do what I want with it, and it is certainly not going to be worn in clubs in which I will strip out of it for the benefit of others.

Plus, if feminists have to be exclusively un-corseted dungaree-wearers (not that there is anything wrong with this, I've worn quite a few pairs in my time!) who never put on an apron, then what has feminism achieved? I bake cakes, I have tea parties, I wear red lipstick and I am bloody well making a corset, and I am very much a feminist. Being a feminist gives me the rather wonderful feeling that there are no limits on what I can wear and who I can be... and so wearing a corset as a feminist is rather liberating. And corsets are damn beautiful too.

I understand that the symbolism and pain attached to a corset can put a lot of feminists off, yet I personally feel that feminism and corsetry do not have to be incompatible. I am very proud that I have reached a stage in my life where I no longer feel the need to agonise over trying to reconcile my taste, sexuality and feminist views.

J xxx

p.s. This is almost completely unrelated... If you want gay rights to keep on improving, please don't vote Conservative! Examples of several recent fails:

--At BBC News (concerning comments made on the B&B incident)

--Guardian article: comment on the same story

--Major David Cameron gay-rights interview Fail

All the other parties are more gay-friendly. :) Obviously there are other good reasons not to vote Tory too, I'm not pushing a single issue here! x

J's Top Ten EA Tracks

Because I am currently in the middle of a complete obsession with Emilie Autumn, I thought I'd try and choose my ten favourite songs by this legendary gothic mad-girl. I love everything she has ever done, so it will be really hard to narrow it down to such a small number!

I had an enjoyable Emilie-rave with Terra the other day, and so I thought it might be an idea to make a blog-post about EA's music anyway.

Note: these are my favourite EA tracks at this one time, and I'm sure it won't be long before they change again!

So, here goes, in no particular order...

1) Opheliac

This has been one of my favourite EA songs for ages. When I first heard the album Opheliac, this opening track was the one that immediately stood out to me. I cannot fault it. Every time I listen to it, I feel an emotional reaction. When I put it on I want to scream along with the chorus, hair flying wildly. It is just BEAUTIFUL. Its structure is mind-blowing: the subtle harpsichord entrance is rather ambiguous -- either an upbeat or a melancholy song could follow it -- and the strings buried beneath the chorus are absolutely sublime, particularly contrasted with the power of the lyrics. Throw in a few lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, a few industrial beats and a poem about girls in society and you have a real masterpiece within EA's body of work.

2) Liar

Liar is a track that becomes better with each listening. It's an incredibly gutsy song, and I've discovered (today, in fact!) that when I'm angry there is literally no better song to help me. I read somewhere that EA intended this song to be related to by any fan who has ever had the urge to scream "LIAR!" in someone's face, and I think most of us can relate to that. This is a fabulous song because Emilie combines her furious violin-playing, screaming and heavy industrial beats with lyrics that still manage to be poetic. I'm also really enjoying the four mixes of Liar on EA's Liar/Dead is the New Alive EP. My favourite one is probably Angelspit's Medical Mix, which I'm rather addicted to. Excellent stuff.

3) Misery Loves Company

It sounds like it's going to be depressing, but actual this song really cheers me up! It's so much fun to sing along with, particularly the bridge: "Do I need you? Yes and no. Do I want you? Maybe so." When it's performed live, the Crumpets incorporate umbrellas into the dancing, and it's all rather fun. There's something quite liberating in the idea of all these crazy inmates prancing about on stage appreciating each others' misery. And it's OK, because we're all different!

4) 4 o'Clock

This is another EA track that I have listened to over and over without getting bored in the slightest. The tune is simple, haunting and beautiful. The industrial beats are spine-tingling. The subject-matter is compelling; indeed, in The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls Emilie writes about her experiences of living with bipolar disorder and the constant state of waking up at four in the morning when entering into a manic or a depressive phase. Without being vague, this song sounds like EA's book feels. They compliment each other really well. It's such an amazing song, and when it was performed live--attached to Best Safety Lies in Fear--I thought I was going to die from being overwhelmed with its sheer brilliance!

5) Chambermaid (Space Mix)

I love Enchant, because of its beautiful classical violin combined with gorgeous lyrics, but I REALLY love this mix of one of its stand-out tracks. How can you make an EA track more exhilarating? Mix it up! I love how it builds, and offers nearly seven minutes of high-speed Elizabethan epic-win. I love how it starts with one of my favourite lines, "You have no hold over me," and finishes with one of my favourite lines, "Turn around before I have to see this face I once adored." It's a really polished, faultless mix. I love it so much! xD

6) Dead is the New Alive (Manipulator Mix by Dope Stars Inc.)

I love the original, of course, but this is a mix that, in my opinion, improves on the ordinary version. It adds real power and depth to the song, and anyone who has seen EA live will want to shout "FIGHT!" in the appropriate places. It's a fantastic mix, it suits any mood, and it's full of guts. I have no more to add on the subject!

7) Ever

Given that I generally prefer EA's heavy industrial stuff, it may seem surprising that I'm an enormous fan of this long, sultry piano ballad. I think the piano is just beautiful, and the verse that begins quietly and heart-wrenchingly with "Well I could paint your portrait if I never saw you again" melts me into the ground every single time. I guess the hopeless romantic in me loves the line "I never told you I needed you, darling, like a rose needs the rain." I make no apologies for my occasionally soppy tendencies! Emilie's voice is on particularly good form on this song, and the piano is beautiful, and it's just generally lovely. I like the bit in the booklet of Enchant where EA explains why "ever" is such a beautiful word. Brilliant stuff. :)

8) Let The Record Show

This is a ridiculously catchy and wonderfully dark song, and when EA performed it live (which I was not expecting) I got so excited! I sang along at the top of my voice :) I just love it. It's a fantastic closing track for Opheliac, too. The way that the album finishes with "... don't waste my time" and then falls into silence seems like an ironically abrupt end to a jam-packed album. I guess you could read lots into that powerful silence about suicide, but I'm not EA so I'm not going to try! A really fantastic song.

9) My Fairweather Friend

I really like this one at the moment! I guess it's because it makes a refreshing change for an EA song to use the guitar. I like how the song's tune (happy on first listen, but with a less happy edge) reflects the idea of the subject of the song, who is happy to be around when times are good but not so much in other times. I can imagine Emilie, and many people struggling with severe mental illness, will have had a few such "fairweather friends," as indeed many of us do. It's when times are hardest that we know who our true friends really are. This is a nice song to listen to between Emilie's "bigger" songs. I appreciate it very much!

10) Heard It All

This is one of my favourite songs from Enchant. I'm not sure why I like this one so much, as it doesn't seem to be one of the "stand-out tracks" (I suppose songs like Chambermaid and What If would be more predictable). I guess I like the beat to it--which reminds me of some of the old artists that I listen to and love--and the lyrics ("I can't fall because you'll try and catch me"), which are darker than many of the other lyrics on Enchant. It's personal, and you can read into it in so many ways. It's sung with such impatience and you see the first (if tiny) glimpses of the fierce stuff to come... A lovely song!

Ok, I've reached number ten! It's annoying to have to leave so many wonderful songs out, but this is just an idea of where I am with Emilie Autumn at the moment and which songs I'm particularly loving right now.

With Love,

J xxx

p.s. I've just watched The Kite Runner. I read the novel about eighteen months ago and loved it, but the intricacies of the plot went a bit hazy in my mind, so it was great to watch the film. If it doesn't bring a tear to your eye you must have a hard heart ! The film reminds us why we must try and obliterate violence and oppression (the scene in which a woman is stoned to death in a bloodstained burkha is possibly one of the most difficult scenes I have put myself through) and the importance of correcting past wrongs for the benefit of the next generation. It's also a beautifully made film: I definitely recommend it! :)

More Emilie Autumn

Last night, I had the privilege of seeing EA in the flesh at the Islington 02 Academy. This was an extremely exciting experience for me, even though it went slightly wrong (!). Earlier this week, I finished The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, and so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to ramble about Emilie! I'm going to talk about the book first, then the concert. xD

The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

When I got my hands on this beautiful hardback book for the first time, I thought the excitement would kill me! It's been eagerly-awaited for quite some time, and so it was wonderful to hold it, having previously had tantalising tasters on Emilie's 4 o'Clock EP. The novel is a work of art, decorated with photographs, drawings and handwriting. Even if the writing itself wasn't fantastic, the book would be worth having just as beautiful object to behold. I am particularly fond of the beautiful paintings of mentally disturbed leeches and the amusing "Killjoy's Corsets" drawing.

The story itself is wonderful; a clever mixture of Victorian gothic literature and modern-day psychological study. Interspersed with the entries of EA in her modern Hollywood mental institute and Emily-with-a-'y' in the Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls are three diaries in which manic-depressive EA explores the darkest of issues and taboos: suicide, self-harm, personality-altering medication. My favourite of these diaries is her Cutting Diary, in which Emilie rationally explains why she sliced her thighs and why she no longer does: be prepared to have your misconceptions turned on their heads.

The writing is beautiful: elegant, engaging and sometimes even hypnotic (rather like EA's speaking voice, indeed!). There are inconsistencies--which is perhaps not surprising given that Emilie has put the whole thing together herself--such as obvious Americanisms in the Victorian parts of the novel, which are supposed to be written by an English girl, and there are lots of typos and spelling mistakes. However, I found that this didn't frustrate me in the slightest. In fact, the book has a real sense of character: it has come from Emilie and reflects her personality. It is not over-edited or perfect, and somehow it wouldn't work if it was; it's an organic and very human piece of work. It is difficult to separate reality from fiction throughout the novel, which is technically autobiographical, but this adds an element of confusion that reflects EA's 'education and entertainment' purposes marvellously. This book will make you think, and it may even make your head spin. It certainly made me cry!

An excellent read. I can't wait to read it again!

Emilie Autumn's Asylum Tour, Islington 12/03/2010

Standing near to the stage with my friends and gazing at the beautiful stage-set, I felt the excitement racing through me. The time seemed to go so slowly while I waited for EA and her Bloody Crumpets to enter the stage. When they finally did, and EA emerged from behind the clock-face at the back of the stage, I found myself wiping tears of emotion away from my eyes. I had a fantastic time singing along to 4 o'Clock, Opheliac, The Art of Suicide and Shallot, as well as watching Contessa introduce the Bloody Crumpets and EA have a 'moment alone' with the audience.

Unfortunately, after the Naughty Veronica's lovely burlesque routine, I started to find myself fainting from dehydration, hunger and overheating. I pushed my way out of the crowd, and collapsed onto my knees at the side of the stage. A kind security guard came and took me into a corridor just as God Help Me started. I drank about three glasses of water, then attempted to push my way back into the crowd, only to find that I felt ill again. A kind medic checked my pulse and gave me more water. It was decided that I couldn't be allowed back inside the claustrophobic crowd in front of the stage, so I was taken upstairs in a lift and sat down at the back of the balcony, watching Veronica and EA introduce the 'Rat Game' on a screen. After being given a free coke and having a little lie down during Misery Loves Company (and it was a bloody shame I had no company at this point because I was miserable to be missing one of my favourite songs. I took a peek at the umbrella-dance going on below and immediately had to lie down again), I started to feel better and watched an electric violin piece, Dead is the New Alive, Bohemian Rhapsody, Thank God I'm Pretty and Let The Record Show from the corner of the balcony, singing along loudly and gazing upon EA's beautiful form from above!

I was delighted to be able to enjoy the rest of the gig, and in the end I didn't miss a huge amount at all. My throat was hurting from singing so loudly by the end, and I met up with my friends fairly easily after emerging from the balcony.

It was AMAZING to see the wonderful Emilie Autumn in the flesh, and I will definitely go again next time she's in the UK. There is, however, a moral to the story: Do not go to gigs without water and food. Especially if you're J and you're sensitive to such things! xD

"WHAT is the new alive?!?"

J xxx

Sexuality and Stereotyping

Bryan Safi's latest That's Gay segment on Infomania, while as hilarious as ever, has got me thinking about the ways in which people are judged on the basis of their sexualities.

There are certain expectations and stereotypes that apply to everyone in society, from straight girls, who are expected to live up to the double-standard of being 'pure' and 'sexy' at the same time (see Jessica Valenti's writings), to gay men, who are expected to be 'fun.' Anyone close to me knows how pissed off I get with the idea of the 'gay best friend.' As Terra and I were discussing the other day, whilst watching That's Gay together, words such as 'flamboyant,' 'fun' and 'wild' are often used interchangeably with 'gay' in rather euphemistic way.

It's extremely messed-up, and no one is immune from stereotyping and uncalled-for judgement. Celebrity culture doesn't exactly help: women, especially, are ripped apart in the media for being too sloppy and therefore 'ugly' or too falsely beautiful. According to the magazines, female celebrities are too fat, too thin, too fake, too real, overdressed, underdressed, too pale, too orange, too attention-seeking, too reclusive. All of this is linked to sexuality because, all-too-often, female celebrities exist as heterosexual sex-symbols, and this is extremely difficult to pull off in a sick society with a double-standard for its women.

We live in a society where a particular sexuality is immediately inferred from a person's appearance. Of course, stereotyping wouldn't exist if it didn't have at least a small foundation in reality, but today's society has such a distinct and therefore damaging idea of how a straight, a gay or a lesbian person looks and acts. We all do it, we all assume: over Christmas I met a woman who I immediately intuited was gay from her appearance, and was later proved right. Around about the same time, I befriended a charming heterosexual girl whose close friends are, for the most part, gay; she assumed that I was straight, presumably because I don't look like I'm going to hop on my motorbike to go and get my twentieth piercing and a trim to my mohican. Stereotyping can hurt, especially in coming out situations: anyone who doesn't fit into a stereotype is going to have a harder time coming out because loved ones won't always see it coming. Equally, those who do appear to fit into society's idea of a gay, bi or transgendered person is more likely to suffer homophobic abuse.

As for Johnny Weir: I think it is really, really sad that America has judged this excellent skater so much on his 'flamboyancy.' Weir's sexuality is, like for most people, an intrinsic part of his identity, and should not be scrutinised by the public. Those who dislike Weir because of his lack of 'masculinity' should go and consider their own prejudices, and think about the negative effect of stereotyping in our sick world.

Hooray for Bryan :)

J xxx

Letter to a Younger J

Influenced, as usual, by the inspirational Terra, I thought it might be a good idea to write a letter to my younger self from this rather bizarre position of being 17-and-three-quarters. This is the first time in my life when I can say that I understand the significance of how much I have changed and how much more I will continue to change. I see the life stretching out in front of me like a hazy wilderness, and I hope it will make more sense as I travel through the mist.

The other day it occurred to me that life is nothing but a mixture of memory and the unknown. The actual present, the now, is such a ridiculously small time (I suppose it would be impossible to measure it; an infinitely small part of a nano-second) that it almost does not exist at all. Everything, then, is what has happened to us and what is to come. Life is, basically, one giant dream. I'm not convinced we're not all hallucinating anyway. I don't know why humans don't all implode, why we don't all just disintegrate from the overwhelming scariness of the mystery of life.

Life had more meaning when I was younger, even though I didn't "know " as much about the business of living and the way the world "works." I guess it is true that we know nothing, absolutely nothing, of this bizarre dream-world we inhabit. My younger self might have appreciated that thought...

Anyway, without further ado, here is my letter.

Dear J,

There will come a time when you will lose your security in everything you thought was certain: your faith, your happiness, your whole existence. One day, your brain will stop philosophising within a barbed-wire-surrounded box labelled "Christianity," and your thoughts will fly through a spinning vortex of confusion and nothingness. You'll have learned the theory -- you'll know your Hume from your Hegel -- but you'll have lost knowledge. You won't "know" anything anymore. The God that seemed so close to you will suddenly seem to never have been there. You won't have to worry about being watched while you undress, but a whole new load of worries will arrive in your developing teenage brain: your entire life will be thrown into disarray.

You needn't feel threatened by this, however; even though the big questions in life will suddenly seem overwhelming, you'll realise that you have control over your own life. Obviously there will always be things that you can't change, and things will happen that are not in your power to stop. But you can say what you want, you can be what the fuck you want to be, and what does it matter what anyone thinks? Especially if this is all a giant hallucination or some eternal computer-game: your life, your decisions. Make good decisions. That's really, really important. One good decision you made, little J, was saying you'd never be a "bad teenager." You simplistically thought that being a "bad teenager" meant swearing and shouting and behaving like Kevin, but you were right to keep your parents onside. Good choices. Keep making them.

One day, you're going to have friends. In the plural. Really good ones, at that. Stop seeing yourself as a victim. I know it's hard, and I still feel that I have "FREAK" tattooed across my forehead. Sometimes I walk through the streets with my head bowed, hoping people aren't looking at me and thinking I'm a nutter. I suppose you'll never completely grow out of feeling self-conscious but things will improve enormously: you have that to look forward to. People will stop laughing at your crazy hair and start complimenting it, believe it or not, so don't worry about that. And people will stop pitying you for your lack of friendship, and start envying you for the quality of your friendships. When I was fifteen or so, I remember a girl who I thought had everything telling me tearfully how lucky I was to have three or four close friends that I trusted completely rather than a huge crowd of superficial girlfriends, and that's when I realised how fortunate I am. So hang on in there, Umbrella-Headed Dyke.

It's really important that you realise that the world does not revolve around you. You sit on your bed, scribbling furiously in your little diary that came free with Blue Peter Magazine, visualising yourself surrounded by angels and the Holy Spirit, feeling gloriously important as you put your little childish philosophies to paper. You are not surrounded by angels, and you are not gloriously important. Other people are living their own lives, separately to yours. Your concerns are not always their concerns, and you have to realise that empathy is not just a quality that you can apply to the starving Africans you have made it your ambition to save. Charity starts at home. It's so very true. One day you will realise that most people are hurting most of the time. One exercise that is quite helpful in this respect is people-watching in the supermarket. I started doing this after a close friend of my mum's became a widow, and she was rude to a fellow customer when Mum took her shopping in Morrison's. Mum's friend is not a rude person, but a grieving one. So when you're next in Sainsbury's, little J, forget your own pathetic concerns and observe the people around you. How many of these people are hurting? A fair few, I'd expect.

You're going to be fine if you stick to your principles (which you will do, on the whole) and remember that you're not as bad a person as sometimes you lead yourself to believe. Don't waste time worrying. Time is something that only speeds up, and that seems to distort and bend and creep up on you when you least expect it. Stay calm, and try to have some confidence.

With Love, J xxx