This was a note written by an old friend titled "Dear Women". I find it beautifully written and comforting knowing that there are still women out there who haven't fallen into obsession about our perception of beauty.
Let's do a little compare and contrast, shall we? Us vs. Supermodels.
Supermodels get paid tens of millions of dollars to exercise all the time, get plastic surgery, and have someone else do their hair and makeup before they go out in public.
We, on the other hand, do not. We've invested our plastic surgery/personal cosmetologist money in an education instead, in the hopes of bettering ourselves so we can get a job that, while it ironically pays much less, is hopefully less demeaning than one that has us strutting the runways in our underwear in front of millions of viewers. Mommy didn't give us an eating disorder, Daddy didn't kickstart our stardom with his huge fortune, and with class/work from 9-5, in addition to homework for hours and hours after that, we don't have the time or the energy to do 5 hours of cardio a day on a fig leaf diet.
Fuck that shit, ladies. We're better than that.
We're more than vapid, living mannequins. We're intelligent, we're hard-working, we're ambitious, and we are interesting. We know how to have fun, and we know it doesn't have to involve Britney-style crotch-flashing or drunken partying of the Lohan degree. If nothing else can be said about us versus the Jessica Simpsons of the world, at least we know how to do our own laundry.
So the next time somebody tries to apply the Judd Apatow rules for relationships to you, tell them to fuck off. If your boyfriend expects you to look like a supermodel, tell him he's damn welcome to go first. We have neither the time, the money, or the inclination to preen like peacocks, because we're busy trying to change the world for the better. You are fabulous just the way you are, and you deserve nothing less than someone who recognizes that.
Dear God, I do believe I've gone to bed and woken up a feminist.
- J
Let's do a little compare and contrast, shall we? Us vs. Supermodels.
Supermodels get paid tens of millions of dollars to exercise all the time, get plastic surgery, and have someone else do their hair and makeup before they go out in public.
We, on the other hand, do not. We've invested our plastic surgery/personal cosmetologist money in an education instead, in the hopes of bettering ourselves so we can get a job that, while it ironically pays much less, is hopefully less demeaning than one that has us strutting the runways in our underwear in front of millions of viewers. Mommy didn't give us an eating disorder, Daddy didn't kickstart our stardom with his huge fortune, and with class/work from 9-5, in addition to homework for hours and hours after that, we don't have the time or the energy to do 5 hours of cardio a day on a fig leaf diet.
Fuck that shit, ladies. We're better than that.
We're more than vapid, living mannequins. We're intelligent, we're hard-working, we're ambitious, and we are interesting. We know how to have fun, and we know it doesn't have to involve Britney-style crotch-flashing or drunken partying of the Lohan degree. If nothing else can be said about us versus the Jessica Simpsons of the world, at least we know how to do our own laundry.
So the next time somebody tries to apply the Judd Apatow rules for relationships to you, tell them to fuck off. If your boyfriend expects you to look like a supermodel, tell him he's damn welcome to go first. We have neither the time, the money, or the inclination to preen like peacocks, because we're busy trying to change the world for the better. You are fabulous just the way you are, and you deserve nothing less than someone who recognizes that.
Dear God, I do believe I've gone to bed and woken up a feminist.
- J
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