I’m not a chick. I think it’s only fair that I get that out there from the get-go. But my opinion still counts because even as a man, I am still somewhat of a feminist. If truth be told, every man would secretly love to be taken care of, with their food cooked and put on the table, their clothes washed and ironed, and getting the day’s newspaper placed on the side table in their den, next to their pipe and brandy with a cracking fire burning away in the fireplace. This is just a fact, probably.
Despite what we would prefer our women do, they’re just going to do whatever the hell they want – they’re like people that way. The struggles of womanhood throughout history haven’t been easy and they most certainly haven’t been fun, and there are still parts of the world where women just aren’t having the times of their lives, and it really is gross. Sometimes they are forced to believe that they choose to wear clothes that really are very unflattering and void of colour or shape. A nice pair of cherry-red pumps are definitely out of the question! But I don’t want to think about the bad stuff right now, because it’s sad.
In actuality, these ‘international’ days of whatever are not given any import whatsoever unless you’re in pre-school or a webfont designer at Google.
Women do have it quite good these days; they have men desperately wanting to bed them (and some of these men can be quite handsome and sober), they have many options for high-tea venues, gossip magazines are glossier, and men apparently prefer big arses. I really don’t know why they still complain and now, they have a day that is all about them. It’s not just a town day, or a national day, oh no, it’s an international day. Give them an inch (or 4)… hey fella’s, am I right? I can’t imagine there are any women in Antarctica but sure, make it international.
As a feminist, I am offended by this. I don’t see women as a special subsect of humankind in need of compassion and branded consideration. I see them as I see me – a person (who men want to bed). Giving them this particular status usually reserved for the disabled or destitute, so we remember that there are those much worse off then us, lumping women into a category of people that require assistance and charity. If women aren’t offended by this, then they should be, and if they are, well.. good.
In actuality, these ‘international’ days of whatever are not given any import whatsoever unless you’re in pre-school or a webfont designer at Google. But there is something to be said for feeling like one needs special attention over others. It is a sign of weakness, not strength, and it’s a weakness that can be pervasive. I would never tell my daughter (not that I have one), ‘today is your day’ because every day is a day I love and respect her. And I would never tell me son (I don’t have one of these either) that he needs to remember women today. I know there are those who will say “It’s to remember their struggle throughout history and those women who still live lives of hell”. To that I say, life is hell, and it won’t end because Google reminds me of it.
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