A Week’s Worth of Lady Advice, as Inspired by The (Still Functional) Internet

I have trawled through this week’s deluge of lady-mistakes, so you don’t have to. As Mary Schmich/ Baz Luhrman would say,

Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

(NB I cannot actually promise to paint over all the ugly parts. Especially when it comes to twitter trolls.)

Ahem.

1. Before you go getting your body out in public, you better i) not have done it of your own free will, without any apparent coercion, ii) PLEASE THINK THINK OF THE CHILDREN and iii) not have ever had any previous stance regarding nudity, regardless of context. Also, while it’s never OK for a woman to display her own body, it is definitely OK for everyone else to ridicule it.

2. If you really must get breast cancer, you had better eat locally grown organic food. Doing these things will switch your cancer genes off. If your cancer doesn’t go away, it’s because you are incapable of taking care of yourself. Obviously.

3. If you’re going to interpret blatant sexualisation of women in a supposedly professional setting as offensive, then you had better shut up about it. Because sweat shops (?!). And men have feelings too!

4. If you call someone out for telling you to “shut the f*** up” because you didn’t want to get drunk and make out with another woman, then you are victimising the perpetrator. You need to reassess your pre-existing feminist agenda and apologise (properly.).

5. If you’re going to call society out for its apparent double standards and sexism, then it appears the best way to do this without getting rape/ death threats is to simply get a sex change.

OK ladies, I hope we’re all clear now on how to get by without getting judged/ overtly sexualised/ threatened/ cancer! Good luck to y’all.

James Watson is a Douchebag

By choice (Rosalind Franklin) did not emphasize her feminine qualities. Though her features were strong, she was not unattractive and might have been quite stunning if she had taken a mild interest in clothes. This she did not. There was never lipstick to contrast her straight black hair, while at the age of thirty one her dresses showed all the imagination of English blue-stocking adolescents. So it was quite easy to imagine her the product of an unsatisfied mother who unduly stressed the desirability of professional careers that could save bright girls from marriages to dull men.

I started reading this The Double Helix on the way to work to morning, and it has set me up for a terrible mood and a terrible day. James Watson, you are a penis.