Today’s woman may be a CEO, legislator, minister, action hero…
But as the sexes grow more similar, their bodies — at least in media — are diverging.
Men are getting bigger and women are getting smaller — except for their busts. Read the rest of this entry
I recently admitted my surprise that some people find handholding more intimate than a hand job.
And I admitted that, for me, the “aloof intimacy” of non-emotional sex ranges from unappealing to disturbing.
And then I asked people who saw things differently — both on my blog and among my friends — to tell me how they felt.
Here’s what they said — plus a few more thoughts: Read the rest of this entry
A lot of men think that women wield power over them.
In a lopsided way which leaves guys defenseless, and that cannot be returned in kind.
Weirdly, the feared feminine potency emerges from sexism. Read the rest of this entry
Happy birthday to Disney’s Cinderella, who turns 65 on Sunday.
Cinderella reflects the 1950s pre-feminist world. What’s changed since then?
The Cinderella Story
We all know the Cinderella story: Read the rest of this entry
The four Fs. That’s all you need to know about women. Find ‘em. Feel ‘em. F- ‘em. Forget ‘em.
The only time 12-year-old Phil had a man-to-man chat with his dad, he got that advice. By the time he was a married 39-year-old professional with two daughters, he seemed to have absorbed the lesson: Read the rest of this entry
By Lisa Wade @ Sociological Images
We’ve all heard the truism “sex sells.”
But whose sex is sold? And to who?
If it was simply that sex sold,
…we’d see men and women equally sexually objectified in popular culture. Instead, we see, primarily, women sold to (presumably heterosexual) men. So what are we selling, exactly, if not “sex”?
No aspect of my existence, no moment of the day, no contact, no arrangement, no response is not different for men and for women. The very tone of voice in which I was now addressed, the very posture of the person next in the line.
And if others’ responses shifted, so did my own. The more I was treated as a woman, the more woman I became. I adapted willy-nilly. If I was assumed to be incompetent at reversing cars, or opening bottles, oddly incompetent I found myself becoming. If the case was too heavy for me, inexplicably I found it so myself.
Women treated me with a frankness which was one of the happiest discoveries of my metamorphosis. But I also found men treating me more and more as junior. I discovered that even now men prefer women to be less informed, less able, less talkative, and certainly less self-centered than they are themselves; so I generally obliged.
A while back I tossed my handbag onto the back seat as I gave a couple of friends a ride. After parking I asked Mike to hand me my purse.
His hands sheepishly approached the worrisome object — and impulsively pulled away.
“How to grasp it?” he wondered. He considered the purse from different angles. Read the rest of this entry