ff (fw)

seeing as i skipped over last week's feminist friday, i'm going to throw this out there today. because i am having strong feelings about it and don't feel like waiting till friday rolls 'round again. in the wake of the string of sexual assaults around toronto. thanks to john for passing along this piece.

* communal fear

i have tried one hundred thousand times to get to the heart of what it feels like to be afraid. to just be afraid. often. everywhere. anytime. after dark. early in the morning. when alone. when somewhere new. when somewhere familiar suddenly seems so unsafe... women have vigilance and fear dug into them very very early. or at least i and so many people i know have had. (and if we haven't, well, aren't we naive and foolish and putting ourselves in danger? say the voices.)

{stacey may fowles}

last night i went to a book launch party in toronto's east side. super hip and happenin'. i had some drinks and danced and tweeted. then i went home alone on the streetcar and subway a little after midnight, and held my breath as i held my head up hoping that tonight was not the night that i stupidly assumed i was safe in my city. knowing that if it was in fact that night, people would wonder about my sky-high clog heels, my short dress, my few drinks. the female friend i was with at the party asked that i text when i got home, which i appreciated. i am always the one who worries about my girlfriends going home alone. i always feel like a broken record. telling them to be careful as if it gives them any power. telling myself i am prepared and aware and vigilant as if it will help me if i ever am one of the unlucky ones. it is constant. it makes a girl very tired. 

     {stacey may fowles again. exactly.}

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ff (fs)

uuuuggggggghhhhh guys. sorry. i put off writing this week's feminist friday post cause ugh. right? remember last week's rape-culture-fatigue link?

well this week i was gonna write about men explaining things. (after friends who i love dearly refused to learn from conversations we'd had to either a) NOT TALK ABOUT IT with me or b) adjust their attitudes on rape culture...)

and i was gonna write about the series of sexual assaults in one of my fav toronto neighbourhoods. and the heavy-sighs-for-reals? response from our shitty mayor's niece (and the very-awesome response of one of the victims).

i was gonna write about one of my very favourite humans getting chased right to her front door off the bus by two douchebags in my sweet scary hometown. and the fact that some people felt that 'not taking the bus' anymore was the solution to avoiding such situations. thanks, yo. practical shit.

but yeah. pooped. i've been dancing lots of ballet this week and i just don't feel like getting into and getting angry this week. see back to that fatigue piece.

SO INSTEAD!

i want you to take a look at the man i've decided is theeeee sexiest man. this week. his style is so unconventional and anti-heteronormative! (and daaaaamn them tattoos.) and even though he is gay i am in love with him and hoping maybe he will marry me. after he is done winning project runway... ladies and gentleman. fabio costa. love of my life!

{all photos of sweet beautiful fabio from the project runway site} 

happy long weekend.

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ff

CANCEL ALL OF THE THINGS!

i had another post lined up. but this is TOOO FUNNY to pass up.

trigger warning for feminists having a sense of humor about themselves...

* is this feminist?!

well?! IS IT?! PROBABLY NOT! PROBABLY PROBLEMATIC!

HAHAHAHAHA! i love this tumblr. i love it unto forever.

and then on a more serious, but lovely note that i couldn't pass-up posting:

* dear daughter

for the record this made me cry. (...a lot of things make me cry. y'all know it. whateves.) it's a really wonderful yet sad letter to a young woman (girl). and i, being maybe more of a less-young woman (girl), needed to hear it too. the bits about determination and not giving a damn. because somewhere along the way that little girl in me got lost and a damn was given and i got smaller and beat down. maybe not a ton. but enough. to feel it. to wonder how i was ever so brave and so fierce and to want that back so badly. and i am coming back. i'm working on it all the time. and i've been lucky and loved and supported and all that. but it is still a forever process. and it is nice to be reminded. fuck 'em. 

have a good weekend, yo!

 {kickassedness borrowed from here}

(oh hey, ps. next friday, the 25th of may, is slutwalk toronto. nathan phillips square. consider taking part! because victim-blaming and slut-shaming is not cool beans.)

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