ff

i go to a small house party in glasgow with my friend and some of her uni pals. they're theatre types, big personalities, fun, warm, welcoming, a real pleasure to be around. also at the party thee is a collection of young men friends-of-the-flat-inhabitants. not classmates of my friend. these boys are friendly too. easy to talk to. it is nice. it would be nice

except. each and every one of those boys makes a joke about rohypnol. as in: drugging me or someone else in this house so that i or we could be raped. you know.
rape jokes.
haha.
every one of them. separately. (and together.) to me. a girl who has never met them before. in a city i am visiting, in a house i don't know at all. some of them come back to the rohypnol-theme a few times. even after i say, as laughingly but firmly as i can muster, that i am not a fan of rape jokes, actually, and maybe they could find something else to joke about?

now.
i wasn't really scared of these boys. i didn't think any of them were gonna rape me or anyone there. not really. i mean. probably not! maybe not. almost certainly not.

but i couldn't know. you can never know.
girls talk often about how many times they've asked themselves 'is this my rape? will this be my rape?'. when we are in elevators or cabs, when the mood in a room turns, when arguing with a drunk friend, a drunk stranger, a big man, an angry man, a group of men, in hallways, bedrooms, bathrooms, alleys, parks, cars...

these boys poured and brought me drinks - sparkling wine for a communal bottle. adult-house-party stuff. tame mid-week gathering of grown-ups stuff. at one point it was obvious that three of these boys were talking about me, whispering to each other, staring at me across the kitchen. i called them out, playfully, not aggressively, not like i maybe would've like to... they laughed about it, made a joke about having been caught-out. followed up with another rape joke. like a playful wink. like a nudge. almost for sure not a threat.
haha.

i didn't drink anything they gave me. and i didn't like any of them at all.

except for the rape jokes they were funny/witty/interesting men. i would've liked them all. i wanted to like them all. i wanted to enjoy myself at this party in glasgow.

but instead i had a knot of anger in my gut, and a voice in my head that said 'don't get comfortable, just in case, be ready to be scared, be ready, have the fear ready, be on guard, just in case, just in case'. and i didn't drink anything they gave me. and i didn't like any of them at all.

today i read

{bijan stephen on medium}

* The Talk

(this one deserves very much the capital letters i so rarely use here.)
(and doesn't that fear sound like the fear you have felt being a woman alone in an elevator, cab, bar, boy's home, street, etc etc etc. i find it comforting, though sad, to feel as though i can have some level of connectedness to this pain and fear. that we can share some small solidarity.)

today i read

{nikki lee for medium.com}

* ride like a girl

maybe this is why my blood boils when I talk about bike vs car infrastructure etc... maybe it is a little too much of the same... well. yes maybe.

spook

WHY ARE THESE MODELS SO SCARY?!?! i am very scared of them. (as if models aren't just scary enough all on their own.)

{prefall cushnie et ochs 2013, photos courtesy of cushnie et ochs by way of style.com}

 

{prefall honor 2013, photos courtsey of honor by way of style.com}

ff

{the trio}

 hey! this week! could you get any better? NO YOU COULDN'T! sassy week... cause not only has there been a million goodnesses up in here, and busy-ness at work, and dance dance dancing, but there is the greatest combo of all time for feminist friday!!!

I DO NOT EVEN KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD HYPERBOLE!

seriously.

* lessons we should've learned from buffy about the dangers of geek-misogynists

SERIOUSLY! it's like the internet was all 'hey erin! what are some of your favourite things? feminism? check. buffy? check. LET'S WRITE ABOUT THEM TOGETHER ON THIS MOST BESTEST WEEK!'

and i am so glad.

and also, yeah. absolutely. warren was the worst. oooof. remember that? so the worst.

happy friday, my slayers!

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.}