How to be a feminist (and never get caught)

There are many women out there who are feminist in their politics, but would rather not get lumped in with the man-hating, bra-burning types. By making a few simple tweaks to your approach and appearance, you can retain your belief in fair and equal rights for women without having the big, fat ‘F’ word thrust upon you.

While your beliefs are valid and important, try not to express them too often or vocally. Tread carefully, especially around delicate issues such as the inferior position that women hold in private and public life. Waiting until issues such as abortion, sexual harassment or the widening pay gap become topical in the news or other media before bringing them up is a good strategy to approaching feminist conversation. Otherwise, avoid discussing your social concerns in public. Always pick your battles carefully, and allow a few insulting stereotypes, misogynistic comments and name calling to slide on by. If you called someone out every time they insulted you or your sex, people would probably get the idea that you are a hard ass bitch, and we certainly don’t want that.

Obviously, there are times when you will not be able to follow this step so strictly. In cases where you insist on breaking women’s silence, make sure that your physical appearance is as non-threatening as possible while you do it. It is important to avoid a masculine aesthetic whenever you can, as this plays into widely recognised stereotypes of feminists as ‘butch’ and ‘fugly’ that fuel much hatred and contempt. Clothing and hairstyle can all contribute to maintaining a more acceptable, feminine appearance. Wear skirts and floating fabrics; the soft, delicate drape will draw attention to your more vulnerable, feminine qualities and make people feel much safer when being confronted with your strong opinions. You may have short hair if you wish, but only if you have delicate child-like features (think Natalie Portman as opposed to Grace Jones). If you must resist shaving, always wear stockings. Never, ever, wear dungarees. Ever.

Most importantly, ensure no one ever considers you a lesbian. It is essential to maintain an appearance of heterosexuality at all times. If you are a feminist and people think you are a lesbian, they may jump to the false conclusion that you are a ball-breaking, man-hating super-bitch. Being in a relationship with a man is the most powerful defense against all such accusations. If your feminist politics are to remain undetected, it is essential to ensure that you are visibly heterosexual, and that you do the cooking and cleaning at least some of the time. Having a house husband, or even sharing the household and child rearing duties completely equally, is a very big no-no as it gives the impression of a radical swing away from assigned gender roles. This tends to make people equally as uncomfortable as lesbianism. Being forceful and manly looking are forgivable offenses if you are heterosexual; conversely you can be as pretty and sweet as you like and it won’t mean a thing if people think you are a dyke. In following these steps in combination, you will drastically minimise visibility of your feminist politics. Good luck, and happy discreet social activism!

Samantha the Sexy Snow Leopard: a night of celebration and condemnation

Ever since watching Marie Antoinette in my high school days I have been desperate to go to a Masquerade. The mystery, the excitement...the ball gowns! Finally, my fairy tale inspired dream of going to the ball arrived with Sammy’s highly anticipate Wonky Masquerade. As if I had somehow known this day would soon come, I had already acquired a bitching 80’s style formal dress, complete with mullet skirt, ruffles and oversized bow. I was feeling pretty damn good; that is of course, until my boy friend, Michael donned his own costume that not even the most dedicated masquerader could compete with.

Michael Morris has created quite a reputation for himself as being one of the best at costume parties. Everyone anticipates greatness, as he just can’t resist going far beyond the dress requirements for any given event. Harbouring a passion for costume since child hood, Michael is not averse to putting in a lot of hard work to achieve brilliant dress up. Michael’s quintessential dress up of choice are his famous crazy/sexy, excessively form fitting, home-made pants. His most infamous pair were made for  his own 21^st, aptly themed ‘distastefully sexy’. Tight, white and laced up all the way...and I mean, ALL the way! For the Masquerade, Michael paired a laboriously made mask with said pants to create one of his raunchiest alter egos of all time... Samantha the Sexy Snow Leopard. He spent two days making the mask, and almost as long lacing himself  into those glorious pants.

 Can't...even...handle...the sexy!

That's Michael receiving his prize for best dressed at the ball, beating out all the gowns, sparkles, feathers and sequins to take out the most lusted after prize of the night! Pride (and, I won’t lie, a little jealousy) was overflowing from all my pours! The night was everything I had ever hoped it would be and more,  surrounded by like minded eccentrics who revered  the beauty of the outrageous. But, as the story goes, we had to get home before the strike of three in the morning so that I wouldn't turn into a hungover pumpkin at work the next day.  We left on such a high, but as we gaily stumbled down the four blocks between Sammy’s and McDonalds (I get so hungry), we descended into world of abuse, anger and violence.

It started as simple high fives and other signs of bropproval, but then the attention began to bubble with aggression. It wasn’t long until Michael and I were cooking in a boiling pot of testosterone fuelled hatred. Now, on more than one occasion, I have seen young men wandering the chilliest Dunedin nights dressed in nothing but Borat style swimsuits, tight super hero lycra and many other costumes of a highly revealing nature, so it couldn’t be that which spazzed out the typical Scarfie male.  My hypothesis  is that it was Michael’s gender ambiguity that sent these fine male specimens into fits of rage. Simultaneously disregarding the conventions of masculinity which rigidly confine the everyday reality of many men and looking goddamn attractive doing it was just too much for our beer filled male friends into fits of rage. Simultaneously disregarding he conventions of masculinity which rigidly confine the everyday reality of many men and looking goddamn attractive doing it was just too much for our beer filled friends:

 “How dare you force me to feel attracted to your bodacious man-booty! Angry heterosexual is angry!”

Be honest with yourself, wouldn't YOU question

 your sexuality over these legs?

“Just relax”, I wanted to say, “and allow the beauty of these glorious thighs to wash over you. To resist is futile; I should know, I struggle with it every day.” It’s not like ones entire sense of oneself as a man is tied in to unwavering heterosexuality, am I right? Oh...actually...

The shock of our night’s juxtaposition was enough to send Michael and I home feeling pretty stink about the world at large. It’s natural for the freaks and geeks of society to congregate at our age, as the tightly regimented social hierarchy of high school seems to disappear into oblivion. It is around this time when life starts to look up for us weirdoes. Finally, a group that understands and celebrates us! A group which accepts the unusual, the queer, the strange and the scary! Loudly and proudly we communicate our disdain for narrow minded society through our dress, our music and our politics. But if it only takes four blocks to tumble straight out of our self constructed liberal-Kansas into a nightmare land of macho aggression and rigidly policed gender rules, then what does that say about our affect on the world at large? When it is only the already converted who bother to listen, then what is all our shouting, screaming and celebrating really, honestly, achieving?

Creeps...creeps everywhere

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