1. No mumbling
Hey, I’m not going to woman’s plain feminism to the readers of Esquire! That’s not happening on my watch! You’re sophisticated, 21st century men with a copy of the El Bulli cookbook, a timeless pair of investment brogues and a couple of Joni Mitchell albums — for when you want to sit in your leather armchair, and have a little, noble, necessary man-cry.
You don’t need me lecturing you — because you’re not hanging out the back of a bus shouting “CLUNGE!” at a bunch of terrified 15-year-old girls. You’ve got sisters, mothers, lovers — female friends and colleagues — and you’ve never once gone up to any of them shouting, “Blimey! You don’t get many of those to the pahnd!” while honking on their breasts, in the manner of Sid James. You’re down with the sisterhood. You’ve got eyes. You know what’s going on out there. You’ve noted that while society’s happy for a famous man to age, and become distinguished, and generally wander around looking like a fucking wizard, the women generally still seem to be 20 years younger, and standing there on the cover of magazines, all like, “Oh! My clothes… they fell off!” EVEN IF IT’S DAME JUDI DENCH.
You know the pay disparity; still 20 per cent less for women in this country, and not a single prosecution, even though it’s literally illegal. You know babies come out of vaginas and it fucking stings, and that the vaginas are having a hard time anyway, what with all the waxing they get. (That’s £20 a pop, my friend. Every single month. Just to feel normal. It’s basically VAT on your minge. Imagine if you had to get your bum-hole stripped every 30 days — lest the mean girls at school corner you on the bus home and go, “I’ve heard you’re like Catweazle down there. Someone who fingered you said it was like diddling a Gonk. Ugh.”)
You’ve seen Amy Schumer’s brilliant, edgy sketches on contraception and rape, and laughed along with them. You’ve called Donald Trump “a twat” for his sexist comments about a female news anchor being on her period. You’ve watched the whole Caitlyn Jenner trans thing unfold and gone, “You know what — this all seems fair enough. I am down with the trans thing.”
So, no. I’m not going to womansplain feminism to you. It’s the 21st century and you are, most assuredly, not a dick. You like women being equal to men — which is all that feminism means. Not all the penises being burned in a Penis Bonfire. Just women being equal to men. You are like my friend John, when he talks about dating alpha-women: “Feel intimidated by them? Christ, no. Dating and marrying powerful women is like big game hunting. I fuck tigers and panthers. Not… chihuahuas.”
No. You get feminism. You don’t need Tits McGee here to take you through it one more time. So, what I am going to do, instead, is tell you 12 things about women that women are usually too embarrassed to tell you themselves. Because I am a chronic over-sharer, and incapable of keeping secrets. I’m like that other Deep Throat. The chatty Watergate one. That’s the Deep Throat I am.
Like you, we feel a bit embarrassed about saying the word “feminism”. It’s the same as when you say the word “environment”. They both have that slight implication of, “I’m now going to launch into a speech that’s basically about what a great person I am”.
Unfortunately, in both cases, the entire future of the world does rest on people being able to say those words properly, and not mumbling “femernism”, or “envibeoment”.
You just have to shut yourself in a cupboard and say them over and over again — “FEMINISM! ENVIRONMENT! FEMINISM! ENVIRONMENT!” — until they feel as normal as saying “pina colada”, or “Michael Fassbender”. Which are both, when you think about it, much odder-sounding.
So, when women talk about “The Man”, we’re not talking about you. You’re just a man. You’re not The Man. Similarly, when we talk about the patriarchy, that’s not you, either. You’re not the patriarchy. You’re just… Patrick. When we’re doing those “MEN!” chats, we’re just identifying the general locus of the problem, ie, most of the power and influence being held by a small amount of men.
Because remember that patriarchy’s bumming you as hard as it’s bumming us. We’re bulimic, objectified and under-promoted. You, meanwhile, are unable to talk about your feelings lest you get punched in the nuts by “a lad” telling you not to be “a bender”. You are unlikely to get custody of your kids, and are three times more likely to commit suicide. Feminism’s about sorting all this stuff out. Because it’s about equality. Not burning the penises. I can’t emphasise enough how much it’s not about burning penises. No burnt penises here.
We’re still pretty traumatised about our periods, even though we’re now 40. Being a woman doesn’t make “being a woman” any easier. All that womb-shit is nuts. It’s like having an exploding, insane blood-bag of pain up in your business end — nothing really prepares you for when it all kicks off. One day, you’re just a kid on your bike. The next, you’re suddenly having to wedge a tiny Barbie mattress in your knickers, crying while you watch Bergerac, and eating Nurofen Plus like they’re Tic Tacs.
Men, imagine if, some time around your 12th birthday, some manner of viscous liquid — let’s say gravy — suddenly appeared in your pants, in the middle of a maths lesson. And then it turned up every month for the next 30 years. You’d be all like “NO!” and “WTF?!?!” and “SRSLY??? THIS????” That’s what we’re like, too. We’re not wise, or in touch with nature, or down with it. We’re just people with a whole load more laundry issues than you. Have you ever tried to scrub blood out of a Premier Inn sheet at 6am, using just travel shampoo and your toothbrush? It’s one of the defining aspects of being a woman.
Likewise, imagine accidentally getting pregnant at 16, then having to run past a barrage of anti-abortion protestors outside your local clinic, all holding up pictures of dead foetuses. We’re not dealing with this in a special, noble lady-way. We’re like, “THIS IS ALREADY A REALLY, REALLY SHIT DAY. I PRESUME YOUR CONCERN FOR THE WELFARE OF CHILDREN EXTENDS INTO A LIFE SPENT VOLUNTEERING IN CARE HOMES, FOSTERING AND DONATING YOUR WAGES TO THE NSPCC — AND DOESN’T SOLELY REST ON HARASSING AND ABUSING TEARFUL, POSSIBLY RAPED WOMEN WHO ARE TRYING TO GET A SAFE, LEGAL MEDICAL PROCEDURE SO THEY DON’T FUCK UP THE REST OF THEIR LIVES.”
Here’s another thing we’re too embarrassed to say: we’d love it if a big bunch of pro-choice men turned up at these clinics, and helped escort the scared women in. That would be some top bro solidarity.
In the last year or so, we saw this study, from America, and it broke our hearts a bit, because it explains so much: in a mixed-gender group, when women talk 25 per cent of the time or less, it’s seen as being “equally balanced”. And if women talk 25–50 per cent of the time, they’re seen as “dominating the conversation”.
And we remembered all the times on social media, or in conversations, an angry man has said, “Women are WINNING now. Women are EVERYWHERE. It is MEN who are being silenced”, and it all made sense.
We’re scared. We don’t want to mention it, because it’s kind of a bummer, chat-wise, and we’d really like to talk about stuff that makes us happy, like look at our daughters — and we can’t help but think, “Which one of us? And when?” We walk down the street at night with our keys clutched between our fingers, as a weapon. We move in packs — because it’s safer. We talk to each other for hours on the phone — to share knowledge. But we don’t want to go on about it to you, because that would be morbid. We just feel anxious. We’re scared. Given the figures, we can’t sometimes help but feel we’re just… waiting for the bad thing to come. Because that would be a realistic thing to think, and we like to be prepared. Awfully, horribly, fearfully prepared.
A Delhi-based couple has decided to invite people to their wedding with their hatke invitations and it’s going viral on Twitter.
Marriage is a union of two people, who begin a new lease of life by taking vows and making their way into a beautiful commitment! To celebrate the unison, an extravagant affair is planned that last for almost a week. And when it comes to Indian weddings, people sometimes go the extra mile to make their D-day memorable. A Delhi-based couple is the latest addition to the list, who decided to invite people to their wedding with their hatke invitations.
Twitter handle, @Stuprous_doctor, a short while ago tweeted the images of a trendy wedding invite, said to be that of Suresh Kumar and Vidhya Priyanka BD, and Twitterati just lost it. Molded in the form of an iPhone, allegedly created by Kumar’s cousin, the invites is generating a hype for its interesting design. In accordance to a BuzzFeed report, Kumar said that despite the fact that theirs was an arranged marriage, it was speedy to bloom into love and they wanted to publicize their big decision in a “weird, quirky way” to the world.
‘John’ is 60, divorced, and gets paid to have s3x with prostitutes. Well, “more often than not it’s just a handjob” he says.
He is one of several private investigators being hired in Australia as ‘brothel busters’, who pose as regular customers in order to unearth illegal s3x work.
“I’m pretty sure plenty of fellas would be a bit envious of how I’m earning a bit of pocket money from time to time,” he told news.com.au, replying when asked whether it was a good retirement gig: “Oh, most definitely.”
His job is necessary because authorities have little power to access premises without a court order, making it difficult to bust the brothels posing as massage parlours that are ubiquitous in New South Wales.
John can provide them with highly graphic detail about the services on offer however, filing reports that can run for up to three pages and include dates, times, people, places, who, what, when, where and how much.
“It’s a document that will be used in court, so it has to be pretty detailed and very accurate. It’s not something you can waddle off in a couple of minutes,” he said.
More often than not, he claims, the parlours are fronts.
“If you looked hard enough, you might be able to find a massage parlour that doesn’t offer s3xual services,” he said. “In my experience there have only been three premises where I have gone in and not been offered that service some time during the course of the treatment.”
John notes that while some offer intercourse which he obligingly accepts, “more often than not it’s just a handjob. They just want to get it over and done with and get the next one in.”
Lachlan Jarvis, managing director of private investigation firm Lyonswood, is in charge of hiring undercover s3x investigators.
“We prefer people who are single, and obviously they have to be willing to undertake s3xual activity,” he told news.com.au.
Once A Shepherd Girl In Morocco, Najat Vallaud-Belkacem Is Now France’s Education Minister!
Everybody dreams of making it big in life but very few determined souls really act upon it. The story of Najat Vallaud-Belkacem is a testament to this, who overcame all the obstacles life laid at her feet and carved her own destiny.
Once a shepherd girl of four – who fetched water from the well – Najat moved to France with her family and faced the real world full of opportunities as well as struggles. The Moroccan girl who had no proficiency in French learnt the language by the end of her first year in college.
“The fact of leaving one’s country, one’s family, one’s root can be painful, my father had already found his place, but for us, for my mother, it was very difficult to get our bearings.”
Najat inherited hard work and resourcefulness from her father who laid strict rules for his daughters – no boys and no nightclubs till the age of 18. As a result, the girls completely surrendered themselves to studies.
Najat’s sister, Fatiha, is a lawyer in Paris.
While studying at the University of Amiens, Najat got the opportunity to pursue higher education with the prestigious Institut d’études politiques de (also known as Sciences Po). This set her on the path winding the political landscape in France.
Najat worked two jobs to take the financial load off her parents while pursuing her Master’s in Public Administration. It is during this time she met Boris Vallaud, a fellow student, and the two married in 2005.
Najat’s political career began with her joining the Socialist Party as an adviser to the mayor of Lyon. She later ran for elections and won the seat of the Councillor. In 2012, she was appointed as the Minister of Women’s Affairs by François Hollande, the then Socialist president.
In 2014, she served as the Minister of Women’s Right, Minister of City Affairs, Minister of Youth Affairs and Sports. In a major cabinet shuffle, she was promoted to serve as the Minister of Education. While advising the youth who want to participate in the country’s politics, Najat said, “I have always advised the youths to get involved in politics. The best way to be happy with your future is by playing a part in it. If you’re just a spectator of collective fate, you’re bound to feel frustrated.”
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HER – “LET THE VOICE BE YOURS”