Ads that piss me off - #3: Design Guys

So this ad has been all over the subway stations for a month and it's been bothering me and I haven't been sure just why. Well actually, it didn't bother me right away. I like the design guys, Chris and Steve. They're funny. Their show is enjoyable. And I like the pink dress featured in this ad. It did bother me somewhat that interior decorators can just magically be fashion designers but whatever. But after seeing this ad, day after day (I see it at least 6 or 7 times a day), it began to eat away at me. And I finally figured out what it is. There are no women in the ad. Just stupid headless mannequins. The actual women they are helping dress for events apparently aren't that important. They're just inanimate objects for Steve and Chris to decorate, just like walls and couches and corners that need plants. Why let their presence detract from the true stars of the show?

Now I know some of you probably think I'm going too far with this one. After all, compared with Julie's story, this is a feminist's dream. But I'm just tired of advertising that features women as interchangeable objects of convenience. I'm tired of seeing body parts instead of whole people. I'm tired of seeing women's personalities and minds left out of the picture. And I do kind of have a hate-on for fashion trends but that's a whole other rant. And I'm disappointed because Chris and Steve seem like nice, reasonable men on their show.

The last thing I will say is that I find Life Network's advertising over the last year to be extremely offensive. Some of you may remember the ads for "The Next Top Model" that were out last year that pictured women from the back, in thongs and heels, with one of the women pinching another one's ass. I think it was supposed to make her lose her poise or something, I'm not quite sure. Anyway, Life Network gets my "Loser Award" for today for it's shitty advertising. Especially considering most of their viewers are women. I mean, really, WTF?

Tales from the couch

So I have a new therapist. I am not sure yet if I like her. I have only seen her twice. The first time, I really liked her. The second time, not so much. Nothing irritates me more than therapists who, after knowing me for all of 45 minutes, make sweeping generalizations about my life and my problems. Which this one did. Had me all nailed down. Not only that, she kept harping on me joining her therapy group as an adjunct to individual therapy. Because of course I have both the time and the money to go to therapy twice a week. Why wouldn't I? I love it when professionals become so rich (she works from home in one of Toronto's most expensive neighbourhoods and her husband is an architect. Yeah, they're loaded) that they lose all sense of the fact that not everyone has $200 a week just lying around taking up space on their dresser top. Anyway, we agreed to "revisit" the issue later. We'll see if I'm still visiting her later.

Anyway, the whole thing pissed me off, especially when I stated quite clearly that it was not in my budget (hello, student, you know, one who pays for the honour of working for others for free). I thought it was extremely disrespectful, not to mention classist and condescending. It also reminded me of this time I went to see a psychic. On the spur of the moment when I was in undergrad I decided to stop in at a psychic on the way home. The sign in the window said she would read palms for $5. Once inside, I was informed the price was $30. I (stupidly) told the woman I only had $15. She (of course) agreed to do it for $15. So then I sat there while she briefly glanced at my palms and then told me my aura was so clouded with astral junk that there was no way I would be able to turn my life around or solve any of my problems until it was cleansed. Which she could do for me. For a price. So basically I paid $15 for a commercial. And not being one for conflict (hence the therapy), I paid the $15 and went on my way feeling royally screwed.

Ah life. What can you do? Just keep on trying, I guess. :)

The "sinful" and the sinful

I have been reading my sister's blog (everythingisaspoon.blogspot.com) in which she had a good go at some of the backward ass ideas people hold in the states (and sadly here in Canada too) about all the ways that scary homosexuals are attacking their culture and values. She was discussing some very weird reactions to gay teachers (such as removing them from schools for being "pro-homosexual). Up here of course is the ever contested gay marriage debate.

The thing that I just can't understand is why people can't seem to see that this is a human rights issue? Everyone always cries about religion and God and the abomination that is homosexuality. But that's just fear disguising itself as religiosity. It's control, oppression, and hatred hiding behind religious texts that are so vague that they can be used to fit pretty much any cause.

Ugh, you know what, I can't even keep writing this post. This whole issue is so backwards, so prejudicial, so full of hatred and ignorance it just makes me sick. It doesn't matter what your religion says, what your community says, what even you say or what I say. Anti or pro, it really doesn't matter. Whether 50% of Canadians support gay marriage, or 95% or 5%, it doesn't matter. At the end of the day it's a human rights issue. We all have the right to make a living, to exist in peace, to be married and have families. If you substituted words like female, Jewish, Muslim, black or immigrant for the word homosexual, people would be screaming discrimination right left and centre. HUMAN RIGHTS ISSUE. That's all it is.

Freedom of religion means living in a pluralistic society in which we respect each other's religious beliefs rather than - ugh, I'm doing it again. That's it. HUMAN RIGHTS ISSUE.

Coincidence?

Hey all,

Well excitement of excitement (not really but whatever), I have recently noticed a change afoot in the kiosk at my subway station (see previous post "Sexism in the City" if you missed the initial rant and care for the background). While it used to be approx 45% men's mags with naked women on the cover, 25% women's mags with naked women on the cover, %25 entertainment trash (Brad cheated on Jen! Kirstie Alley too fat for sex! Nick's been kicked out - Jessica in tears! - this is a whole other rant on the wasteland of entertainment "news" that I will come back to another day) and 5% other, there has been a bit of a shift lately. It seems more recently that one or two of the naked women mags have given way to some general interest mags. They've actually been displaying a Chatelaine magazine with Easter eggs on the cover for at least a week now. Feel free to insert a clever Freudian remark about eggs and women's reproductive value and how it ain't that different from naked women if you so choose, but I myself do not care so much for Freud and so I am celebrating a bit of welcomed variety. Has the kiosk owner perhaps been reading my blog? Or noticing the scathing look I give the kiosk every time I pass it? Or is it all just a coincidence? Just one of the many mysteries of life. Either way, I'll take it!

Ads that piss me off - #2: Julie's Story

All right, get a coffee, get comfortable, cause this is going to be a long rant.

So I'm sure you've seen this ad campaign on TV - mention of mysterious "medical treatments" for weight loss featuring women with flat stomachs and normal looking thighs bemoaning their weight on the bathroom scale as they imagine what they would do with just "a few pounds less." Things like "I'd go shopping -right away!" and "I'd do a strip tease for my husband" and other such cliches. Well, they have now invaded the subway line in force and this was what greeted me at 8:15 on my way to work (which by the way involves understanding why young women develop adversarial relationships with their bodies as they go through puberty. Hmmm, let me think about that).

So let's start with the obvious. Women's sex sells. Put an ad of an ass in lingerie in the subway and get everyone's attention. I like that we're supposed to be experiencing this from the woman's point of view. "If I weighed a few pounds less, I'd do a strip tease for my husband." Well, where's the picture through her eyes of a loving and excited husband? Why are we not seeing the scenario - the room, the mood, the moment? Or how about even a picture of her still in the robe with a mischievous glint in her eye in anticipation of the fun of this? Or how about even a picture that includes her face?

But no, instead we get ass and thigh in black lace. And they're perfect ass and thigh. No cellulite, no scars, no flaws whatsoever. And they're, of course, a white ass and thigh. So the message is as always, thin, perfect, white. And that the only thing a woman has to offer for sex is her body. We don't need to see her face, her reaction, her emotions, her experience. We don't even need to see her whole body. Just her ass. That's all that matters. Another ad that purports to be for women and pro-women that has reduced women's sexuality to their bodies - oh, sorry, make that their "a few pounds less" perfect bodies.

Not to mention the fact that most men I know who would enjoy a strip tease wouldn't really be too concerned about an extra five pounds. I think they would like to see their wives being sexy regardless of five pounds. Most of the men I know wish their wives, girlfriends, lovers were more comfortable with their bodies and would be more comfortable with sharing their sexuality. This ad only promotes the fear in women that we are not sexy if we aren't perfect. It makes us hide our sexuality, remove it from our intimate relationships, and leave entire parts of ourselves unexplored because we are not perfect. It closes us off from ourselves, it closes us off from our partners, and interferes with our ability to express our sexuality freely, and it undermines our most important relationships.

What pisses me off even more is disguising this sort of damaging messaging as health promotion. Yes, way to promote health by encouraging women to obsess about their bodies, to feel that "a few pounds" "overweight" is a crisis requiring medical intervention. And let's be honest, there has never, ever, ever been a safe weight loss medical treatment. From PhenFen to ephedra to liposuction to very-low-calorie diets, none of them are safe. We're talking heart failure, kidney failure, death, unsafe. So the chances are that whatever this ad is promoting is also unsafe. And for the sake of 5-10 pounds, women should be risking their health? What????? WHAT??????

If we truly wanted women to be healthy, we would encourage them to keep their weight at a level that is medically healthy (and by that I mean if we removed all the crappy pressures and all the social problems that set women and men for that matter up for conflictual relationships with food and created a society that actually promoted healthy eating by making good food plentiful and affordable food and promoted exercise by making public spaces safe and inviting and made people of all sizes feel welcome, once all that is taken care of, the weight our bodies naturally settle at when free to just be) and then make peace with that whether it's 125 pounds or 165 pounds. We would encourage them to accept and celebrate themselves and enter fully into all of their relationships free of fear and self-monitoring. We would recognize the mutual and relational aspects of sexuality along with the purely sensory ones. We would allow women to live as whole, complete beings, "a few pounds" and all.

Stupid Julie's Story. Pisses me off.

Norfolk Terrier - how cute is she!

!

Westminster dog show

So this Monday and Tuesday were the Westminster Dog Show in New York City. A German Short-Haired Pointer named Karlee won - very lovely looking dog. I myself was rooting for either the Great Pyranese (the white dog above - not this exact one, but that's the breed), or the little Norfolk Terrier to take the title but alas, they did not. Not that I know anything about judging dogs against the standard - I'm all about cuteness and personality. The little terrier took twice as long to make it down only half the ring as the other dogs did to do the whole ring - little short legs and all, very cute.
It was also a very nice media experience. I was not feeling well over the past week and found TV a little too much. I've noticed lately as I've been struggling with high stress levels that TV is much too stimulating. Too much colour, blaring sound, whizzing graphics, and super-rapid cuts. It aggravates my headaches and has actually been making me feel nauseous lately. It was nice to watch a low-key show - wide green ring, long shots with minimum detail in the frame, and two commentators conversing - conversing, not arguing, shouting, or swearing - at a nice medium tone of voice. I wish more programming would just take it down a peg to a more digestible pace of viewing. Plus, you know, dogs. Who doesn't love it?
Speaking of dogs, our Buddy was very naughty this weekend and has lost his off-leash privileges for quite a while. He took off on me for a full hour, running through the woods. Every now and then he would drift into sight, looking straight at me and turn and run in the other direction. And he had lost one of his boots (he wears them to protect against salt). I'd see him streak by in the distance with only three boots and be so mad. When I finally got a hold of him and tracked down the boot, I was far too angry to put it back on him (it's a bit of a process) so instead decided to avoid salt as much as possible on the way home. So here I was so angry, covered in twigs and scratches from chasing him through the bush, trying not to take it out on him (he has no idea why I'm mad, dogs have a 5 sec memory for understanding actions and consequences) and every minute or so someone stops me - "Do you know your dog is missing a boot?" Finally I resorted to carrying the boot in clear view in front of me so in order to avoid me completely snapping at some well-intentioned elderly man.
Anyway, our dog, clearly not as well-trained as a show dog. The next day Mark "took him to boot camp" and was super strict with him. Buddy was so upset - he sulked all day. But don't worry, we all made up and are now getting along fine. But with a leash when outside. Always. No matter what.
Westminster - yeah!

Hypocrisy paralysis

As I set about my dissertation proposal and start to envision my research project (running a consciousness-raising/activism group to combat body dissatisfaction in women), I come up against the dilemma that faces many feminists or really any one of us who wants to make some sort of change in the world - how can I possible complain about X when I Y? How can I possibly complain about women feeling ashamed of their bodies when I myself diet and want to be thinner? How can I possibly complain about sweat-shop labour when I wear Nike shoes? How can I possibly be a feminist when I'm thinking about taking my husbands last name? It's the trap of thinking that unless I do everything perfectly myself, I can't criticize anyone else, can't advocate for another, can't stir up some action for change. Let he is without sin cast the first stone.

Well I say fuck it. Cast your stones. This way of thinking is a trap that keeps us from creating change in our world. You don't have to fix everything to fix one thing. If everyone recycled one more toilet paper roll, think of how much waste would be diverted from landfill. If everyone bought one more indie mag, think about many alternative media would thrive. If everyone gave $1 to a local charity, think how much money would be raised. I've said it once, I'll say it many times (or rather Walt Whitman will) - "Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself (I am large - I contain multitudes)." Don't get stuck in hypocrisy paralysis. Taking one action, however small and imperfect, is better than taking no action. See if your stone can make a dent, however slight, in sexism, racism, the trashing of the environment, the isolation of North American culture or whatever else raises the righteous anger.

There, now I can return to this and read it whenever I begin to doubt that I do what I do for a reason and that there is meaning here.

Wonderful tiki

tiki

I've been trying for 30 minutes to scale this picture down small enough to put it in my profile but I can't get it to a small enough file size without losing the good detail. So I've just decided to put it up in all its glory. I love tikis.

Ads that piss me off - #1: The wet t-shirt gunslinger

Okay, granted I am not the target audience, but WTF with this ad? "I have gone stalking international crime lords. I have crept through the waters off shore of the Caribbean Island where they are hiding out. I have safely secured my gun. For this mission, I have chosen a white t-shirt and no bra." I mean for real, you can hardly even see the holster this ad is apparently promoting. Lame. Besides which, call me crazy, but I think I fully dressed woman striding out of of the waters is probably noticeable. If she was really trying to be stealth, wouldn't she at least be crouched down a little lower? Or how about swimming under the water? Oh, my bad. Then we wouldn't be able to see her boobs. And that is far more important than oh, an ad that makes sense or actually demonstrates the effectiveness or value of its product. Not to mention they've taken a woman who is (presumably) in a position of some power and authority and reduced her to a sex object and linked her sex with violence. Lovely.

Sexism in the City

Here are things that bother me - stupid people who can do nothing more original or more socially uplifting than to blatantly use sex to sell products. For several months now, I have been tracking the content of the magazine display at the front of the kiosk at my subway station. With the exception of December when magazines with "50 best gifts in Toronto" and similar were front and centre, most of these magazines are either men's magazines with half-naked women on the front or women's magazines with half-naked women on the front. Everyday, after a long day at school or work, I trudge up the stairs to be greeted by starlet cleavage, stomachs, and thighs. Oh, and of course, the requisite come-hither stare - glazed over eyes and mouths half-open in mid-moan ecstasy.

And why, why, why is it that every young actress and musician today, after garnering acclaim for her actual talents, must then do a cover/centrepiece in Maxim in which she takes off her clothes? Even young women who say they can't stand the way women are objectified in the industry (i.e. Avril Lavigne, Michelle Branch) end up in a pair of lacy panties, pouting at the camera and talking about their turn-ons. Is this all we can do when faced with strong female talent and power? Sexualize it, objectify it, trivialize it? Strip women of their legitimate talent and power and only allow them a trashed up, one-dimensional object-of-men's-desire power? Make their bodies more important then their voices, their emotions, their thoughts, and their beings? It seems that posing in these magazines has become a kind of marker of success for young celebrities these days and I just find it so sad.

Anyway, those magazines. It seems like no big thing and many of you may think I'm over-reacting. But every day, in so many little ways, it is grilled into us - you're only as good as your packaging. Every day as I go about my life trying to feel good about myself and to help others do the same, I am cut down in a thousand little ways. What is that saying, "death by a thousand paper cuts"? That's sexism, for you. Fun, fun.

Blank stare

After such a long rant last time, I thought I should write a nice short little entry today. So I sat down and thought "What's on my mind?" and I was met with a kind of white noise buzz. It was, alas, not the buzz of a quiet mind, pleasurably drowsy and slow to rouse to action. No, it was the buzz of 10,000 screeching thoughts, each trying to push the next out of the way in the race to streak to the forefront of my consciousness. Not so good, my friends. Have I mentioned that school sucks?

Therapists I have known

So I am in the oh so fortunate position of looking for a new therapist. *sigh* Some of you may be shocked at the prospect of a therapist herself being in therapy but I'll let you in on a secret - most are, and if they're not they should be. It is hard being a therapist and it's no good bringing your own crap into the room with you. The last thing anyone needs is a therapist with issues.

Like therapist #1, - psychologist, who was actually a very nice woman and skillful in her interventions. Alas, she couldn't remember by name. She always called me Lisa, even made my receipts out to Lisa. When I confronted her on it, she said I reminded her of someone she knew in high school. And she still called me Lisa.

Therapist #2 - psychiatrist, only interested in talking about my father. At our first session, she asked what was troubling me. I told her I needed help with exam stress. She asked about my father. I told her that we had a good relationship and I was really more concerned with the mild panic attacks I was having around school. She asked more pointed questions about my father. Needless to say, I didn't go back for a second session.

Therapist # 3 - also a psychiatrist. Couldn't seem to remember me from week to week. Always did a suicide checklist (I've never had a suicidal thought in my life) at the start of every session. Never remembered anything about my life from session to session. Never told me her first name. Very bad at her job. Apparently only hired because her husband was one of the best doctors on staff. Just my luck.

Therapist # 4 - student intern, psychoanalyst - very nice, very timid, no impact positive or negative. It was like talking to myself. But since I like the sound of my own voice, not so bad.

Therapist #5 - psychologist - group therapy. Put me in a group where everybody had the exact opposite problem from me. I guess she felt since the general topic was the same, it would be okay. Not so much. Also did nothing to moderate. Just closed the door and then said "Okay, we need to wrap up" 50 minutes later.

Therapist #6 - MD Psychotherapist (basically a doctor who has read a bit of Freud and Rogers and feels capable of counselling, don't get me started). First wanted me to sit at the end of his desk in a little plastic chair as if I was in a doctor's office asking for a flu shot. At my look of horror, he offered me a seat on the couch. He even graciously pushed aside a pile of garbage - empty wrappers, dirt-streaked papers - so I could sit on the stained cushion. Nice. Then he put his feet up on his desk, looked out the window, and never looked at me again. Halfway through the session I gave up on him and basically stopped talking. He didn't notice.

Therapist #7 - Psychoanalyst. Okay enough lady. Kept gapping out. She'd glaze over staring at her paper. When she suddenly realized I hadn't been talking for several minutes she would start, blink rapidly and try to cover by saying "You've been quiet. Where were your thoughts just now?" Uh-huh, right. Plus, she had frog eyes. Very distracting.

Therapist #8 - Psychotherapist, M.A. - Very smart, quite on the ball. In the first session had me all figured out. Told me what my problem was, why I thought what I thought. Didn't actually check in with me to see if she was right. A fair bit of projection (see above re: therapists with issues).

Therapist #9 - Social Worker - I actually liked her a lot and we did some good work together. But even she had problems. Liked to give her opinion often on when I should have children. Strange, I thought that was my decision....

Anyway, you can see why the idea of yet again trying to find a therapist is a little daunting. Well, as we like to say, grist for the mill.