Here in Australia, we’re not that big on differences. Those differences often become the punchline. Sarah has an unconventional look, which by Aussie standard means she deserves some “good-humoured” ribbing. I admit my first thought upon seeing her visage was “Holy eyebrows, who told her that was okay?” But this post is not about that, It’s not here to body snark on her cosmetic tattoos, nor the fact that she loves heels so much she’s trying to patent the “Hunner” (that’s a Heel + runner in one). Part of me wants to, but I know that it’s mean and it’s also unnecessary, especially when I know nothing about her but a few clips on TV (this is what being a grown up is about, I think). No, I’m here to discuss the name she’s been tagged with, “The Cougar”. I kind of get the feeling from the explanation of James and Sarah’s relationship on the Amazing Race’s webpage and this advertisement, they’re a little obsessed with their ages. “JAMES IS 23” it says, “Sarah is…. (dun dun dunnn) 32” *gasp* *pearl clutch* THAT’S 9 WHOLE YEARS. However, we don’t just go ahead and say we think it’s wrong or it’s odd. So we do what’s considered socially acceptable in our society, we laugh at her and label her a Cougar. Secretly thinking that the younger man, who admitted to being friends with Sarah before the relationship, is caught up in her matronly clutches. What else can Sarah do but laugh along like a “good sport” as we shame her. So what’s our problem? If it was an older man/younger woman situation would it be as much of a joke? often in that case, the man often evades target while the woman gets labeled a gold-digger. He may get the more widely accepted ‘Sugar daddy’ and a pat on the back for being such a stud. What of a relationship with 2 men? I believe ‘Twink’ and ‘Daddy’ may have been bandied around at one time or another but it seems to be far less of an issue in the queer community.
Why do we find it so uncomfortable that a woman might appreciate the company of a younger man? Does Sarah deserve to be the butt of our jokes because of that? or because her looks are unconventional? Not from what I’ve seen but must be missing something. Maybe I just don’t get the ‘joke’.
(sources: The Amazing Race – James and Sarah, Youtube)
Just finished watching ‘Utopia Girls“! It could be considered a simplified view of the Australian Suffragettes (at times I felt I was watching a school video) however, it was packed to the gills with information that most have limited knowledge of.
In case you don’t know, Australia was the second nation in the world, after New Zealand, to enable women to vote. The first state to acquiesce was South Australia in 1894!! It was 1908 when Victoria, one of the last hold outs, finally enabled women to place their opinions in the political fray. It would be a full 12 years before the US would do the same and another 8 before the UK would concede.
It’s something that this country in all it’s modern day problems should hold onto and be proud of (have you heard? we’re drunk, dumb and racist) . Poor Vita, one of the heroes of this movement, sadly had little fanfare upon her death. Australia had already forgotten all the work these women (and some men) had done for us. Though I feel that had Vida Goldstein passed now, the information vacuum that is the Internet would have reversed and spat out to endless essays on the valuable work done and achieved by Goldstein and her compatriots. I’m not sure whether that’s any better, over-saturation = low comprehension in a lot of cases.
Utopia Girls can be screened on ABC’s Iview within Australia. Outside of Australia you may have to find illegal means to acquire it but it’s worth a watch if just to inspire us all to read more about them. My next step is to read about New Zealand’s fight, I bet there’s a brilliant story there.
Why do I always find out how remarkable someone is AFTER they die? I always thought Nora Ephron while creating a couple of great movies, was to be openly derided for creating this klutzy schmaltzy romantic comedy genre. Little did I know, she was actually a feminist, comedian, atheist, reporter, the only white house intern not to schtup Kennedy and all round awesome person. I’m off to read her books, you should too. If you have already, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?
“Sometimes I believe that some people are better at love than others, and sometimes I believe that everyone is faking it.”
“You can’t retrieve you life (unless you’re on Wikipedia, in which case you can retrieve an inaccurate version of it).”― I Remember Nothing: and Other Reflection
“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”— ’96 Wellesley commencement addres
Sometimes I delight in my fat rolls. I didn’t always have them. I grew up a very skinny kid, the kind that could barely put on weight. If I didn’t like what people gave me, I wouldn’t eat it. Then I’d proceeded to eat whatever my body would want.
As I grew I got jabs about how small and skinny I was, “put some weight on you.” “You’re skin and bones.” “eat more”, I realised that where others had breasts where I had barely nubbins. I felt asexual, not that you should be ashamed of asexuality, but at that time you think “what’s wrong with me?” After my first boyfriend, I realised what I was isn’t asexual. I was threatened by men, who I hardly understood but I was slowly realising that my body as it was can be a powerful thing. At 22 I started putting on weight, I developed stretch marks of which I was ashamed. I was loved but I felt I did not deserve it. So much was caught up in this idea of perfection, I would not let him touch my little stomach although he delighted in it. I lost the bit of extra weight, I gained again. I lost love, I gained love. I lost again.
So much of who I was, was tied up in this idea that I was not good enough. My figure it’s boyish but carries some weight. My thighs, my love handles, my stomach created a strange undulating silhouette but it was definitely not an hourglass, more like a jelly baby. As I get older and in my 32 year I revel in my fat rolls. they are part of me. The only time they cause me pain is when my clothes don’t fit right, when I see my bottom from behind it’s a little saggy. When I see that gorgeous girl with the larger figure, her stomach is still as flat as a pancake and her breast are a force to be reckoned with, I’m jealous.
It’s others who shame me with their well-meaning words, It’s for others that I go to my most hated place, The Gym. I want to stop listening to others because sometimes I delight in my fat rolls, they’re part of me.
I spent some time watching ‘Girls’ tonight and I realised that some things at 20, are still the same at 30. What a fucking breakthrough. I have nothing in common with these people other than the crippling anxiety that still plagues me, the ‘not quite good enough’ feeling. I feel like I’m still a pretty good person though. Which brings me to another thought.
I’m starting to think that, honestly, we’re a bunch of assholes. In fact, asshole behaviour is not just encouraged, it is celebrated. Every time we reveal a little guilty secret about having slept with someone we shouldn’t have or that zinger we trot out at someone’s expense. we’re encouraged to think of ourselves first, sure, we do charitable things but because it makes us feel better and less of the asshole we are while we look down on others who aren’t as “giving” as we are. Guess what? that makes you an asshole. We’re living our lives like an Ayn Rand Utopian vision, all the while saying ‘at least I’m not as bad as that guy.’ But then again, maybe I’m just the asshole.
I bought this thing called a BB cream. apparently it stands for Blemish Brightening or brightener or something. I know there’s Blemish in there. while my skin isn’t horrible, bad decisions during my teen/early adulthood years means I do actually have some scars. Also fair skinned so the inevitable redness. I’m always on the quest to find something that covers whilst still looking natural.
The best thing I’ve found is purminerals makeup but still it’s quite a heavy thing and can drift off your face when you sweat no matter how much you’ve primed. so back to the BB cream, thought I’d try this because it seemed like a primer/tinted moisturiser kind of action. and, ummm, well, not really showing much promise. Can still see my scars and redness, the few pimples I got during my period this month that stubbornly refuse to disappear. Honestly, I think this along with primers is just some crummy way of trying to make us spend more money. I want to say Never again will I fall for this but I almost definitely will as long as they keep promising me perfect skin.