Catcalling is no validation of beauty

23 year old Poppy Smart recently made the news for going to the police about being catcalled every morning on her way to work by the same group of builders. Of course, the media exploded, with her critics claiming it's a compliment to be catcalled, and that it's harmless fun. It's often men who say these things and, I imagine, often the same men who are guilty of it and trying to justify their actions. However, there are plenty of women who too take the same opinion. It is funny that a popular come-back aimed at the 'prudes' and 'idiots' who complain about catcalling, is that they're just jealous because it doesn't happen to them. In my experience it is often the women who get it the most who complain, and those who don't saying things like 'I wish I got catcalled'. This came up on the always delightful Loose Women the other day, where plenty of viewers expressed the sentiment that they wished they got catcalled, or that they enjoy being complimented. In my last post I wrote that I do not like women telling other women what to do, and I would not want to tell other women how to feel, but I do feel there is something a little naive about this.

I imagine a scene playing out in these women's heads, the ones who wished to be catcalled: It's a sunny day, maybe they've just done their hair, their make up is on point and they've lost a few pounds. They feel great in themselves that day and they want other people to notice it too. As they walk through the streets heads are turning, attractive men are whistling and in that moment they feel like like one of those women in those adverts who eats nothing but Special K. However this is not how catcalling is experienced. Catcalling is when you feel ugly and you want the ground to swallow you but men are shouting at you anyway and you do your best to pretend not to hear them. Catcalling is being told you look beautiful and being told you look anorexic during the same day. Catcalling is having a car pull up and a group of boys call you a fat bitch. Catcalling is taking your dog for a piss outside your flat and being told to smile. Catcalling is being told by a stranger they would like to do you up the arse. Catcalling is being physically stopped on your way to work at 7am buy two guys who are still drunk and won't take no for an answer. Catcalling is regularly crossing the road near your flat to avoid the builders who collectively stare and sometimes make noises. Catcalling is having your throat grabbed and being asked to suck a guys dick on your way home from a club. Catcalling is when you've finished a long shift where you've been verbally abused, and on the way home you get called a rude bitch for ignoring a 'hello'. These are all things that have happened to me or people I know, and I could go on and on.

The thing is, women who wish you were catcalled, there isn't a switch which you can turn off on the days where, actually, you're not in the mood. And after a while (one incident, really), the novelty of having strange men approach you and experiencing that fleeting dread which accompanies not knowing what kind of thing is going to be said or done, it wears thin, and you're never in the mood. And behind all this is the idea that it's a compliment. Is it a compliment though? In my above list I included some insults, because in my experience it is all one in the same, and the line between a compliment and an insult is very thin. It is just men feeling entitled to tell you exactly how they feel about your appearance - good or bad - and it is interesting how quickly the good can turn to the bad once you haven't accepted their compliment with a wee courtesy and a 'thank you sir'.

Women who wish to be catcalled, please do not seek validation of your beauty in stranger's comments. They are as mindless and as fickle as they could be. They are often just a reflection of societies attitudes which places young and pretty at the height of what is considered 'desirable', and of male entitlement to approach women however they want. Please also do not put down other women who speak out about it. We should not have to be grateful or accepting of something we never asked for and never wanted.

The sex industry, the No More Page Three campaign and why feminism needs to do better

I don't like women telling other women what to do, we have enough of that permeating society as it is. It is especially jarring for me when this is dressed up as feminism. One place where this is evident is where sex is involved, because everyone seems to think they have a right to comment on what they think is 'right' and 'appropriate'. Issues of sex are closely linked with issues of gender, and as such are feminist issues. But as with a lot of things the simple moto 'feminism = equality' is actually not as simple as it sounds. What is equality? What does it look like? How do we get there? Unfortunately a lot of the time it seems mainstream feminism wants to get there by tackling symptoms of the issues, and in doing so is actually being oppressive towards the group it is trying to help.

The sex industry sees a lot of this. The stances feminism takes often lies on opposite sides of the scale, with anti-sex work feminists arguing that the sex industry is always demeaning, always abusive, and always degrading, and sex positives on the other end of the spectrum arguing for freedom of choice and sexual empowerment. Neither of these perspectives are particularly helpful in characterising the complex and multifaceted experiences of sex workers, and neither are useful in gaining better legal and working rights, which is really the main issue in hand for the majority of sex workers. When a campaign is purely against something, it does so with little regard of the people it might be affecting. Sex work is a reality and it is often a choice made under the constructs of a capitalist patriarchal society which does not favour women, disadvantaged women especially. It is not kind to those in poverty, especially not women. But criminalising sex work, or criminalising the buyer, does not reduce the likelihood of sex work happening, but only increases the risk of violence and abuse when their work is pushed out of the sight of state support.

I'm a little bit late to the party to be talking about the NMP3 campaign, as it's 'success' came and went in a blink, but it never sat quite right for me. I feel it is a different stroke of the same brush and reflective of wider attitudes around the sex industry, and one which is appealing to mainstream feminism. However being critical of it is treading a tricky line. How can I as a feminist say that I am critical of a movement which is against the objectification of women's bodies for male consumption? I see the issue, women should be represented in the media for much more than their bodies. I hate The Sun and everything it stands for, which is misogyny, racism, homophobia, transphobia, ageism, god I could continue. They promote hatred and they should never be considered a 'family newspaper', I mean who the hell would give their kids that to read?! But I guess it is partly this which makes me feel that consensual pictures of women with their tops off is the least offensive part. How about all those gossip mags which take non consensual pictures of celebrity women to criticize and plaster over their pages? 

The NMP3 campaign was good intentioned, the accounts of women feeling undermined and abused due to Page 3 are real and should not be ignored, and to stand up against that culture and feel the heat of the backlash is a brave thing. However I am still critical of it.  At its best it felt misplaced: we can't fight the deep rooted structural imbalances which is ultimately the cause of rape and inequality (and let's not get confused, it is the structures of society, and not a consensual smiling glamour model which causes rape and inequality) by censoring one page of one appalling newspaper, but I guess it feels kind of productive to try. My more serious accusation is that I think on a deeper level there is a whiff of classism and snobbery about the whole thing which is reflective of wider attitudes towards those involved in the sex industry. Page three is not considered an acceptable way to be sexual. It represents largely working class women, for largely working class men (compared to other middle class expressions of nudity such as burlesque and others considered an 'art').  And along with all sorts of sex work, it is held up as a poor choice, and at times blamed for fuelling the abuse of women. These women are essentially being held up as responsible for their poor choices as contributing to sexual violence. It seems to be considered a right held by privileged educated middle class and feminists to comment on what are 'good' and what are 'bad' career choices, and glamour modelling is not a valid choice to be making, and this kind of thinking is often extended to any involvement in the sex industry.

By focusing on the act we are looking at a symptom and not an instigator of the same cause. By attempting to destroy these symptoms we are either demonising those involved by questioning their life choices,  or 'saving' them by campaigning to have their place of work shut down. This is dangerous, and potentially making vulnerable a group of people who are already marginalized. On the opposite end of the scale, celebrating those choices as acts of freedom and empowerment lends no help to recognising the sometimes negative realities in which the women involved are campaigning to make better. Most feminists are well meaning in their approach, but some also neglect to look further than their own privileged experience when judging other's choices. More attention and consideration needs to be paid to recognising and tackling structural inequalities, and campaigning for better labour rights for those involved in the industry.

If you are interested in how to support sex worker rights please see here and here

Feminists are ugly

Sometimes describing myself as a feminist makes me feel ugly. The suffragettes in the late 19th and early 20th century were the first feminists to be subjected to the 'ugly for speaking out' label. This manifested into physicality, through caricatures which depicted them as spinsters, with ugly defining features, and an air of masculinity. Unlovable. Challenging the norm was something which scared people and this was their revenge. I would like to say that maybe 100 years on people are a little more enlightened, but you only need to look at the online trolling of feminist writers, activists, and journalists to know that this is not the case. They are consistently insulted on their appearance (before they are threatened with rape, of course). A quick google search of 'why are feminists....' took me to 'ugly' as the first suggestion, before moving on to 'fat'. I think there is still a certain amount of ugliness associated with being a feminist, and ugly as a concept is not just skin deep.

   So when I say it makes me feel ugly, I am not referring to body image. I don't care if people think I don't shave my legs (and sometimes I don't, and I don't give a shit), and I work hard to buy all the make up and products necessary to achieve a full womanly attractiveness. My blusher costs £25. Twenty five pounds! And as the contemporary woman I am, I know how to choose an Instagram filter which best captures the blue of eyes (often Brannan). So, mostly, I follow all the rules of conventional attractiveness in a physical sense, and besides (but most importantly), I've spent the past 25 years learning to love and accept my body regardless of minor flaws and fluctuations in weight. But the 'feminist is ugly' label isn't, and never was, about appearance.

    I've always felt the need to please, which I think is a personal feeling coupled with the gendered nature of that trait. I feel I've always had an unthought of sense, before I became more politically and socially aware, that women shouldn't be too loud, too challenging, too opinionated. It isn't attractive in a woman. Where did I learn that? How did I learn it? I'm not even sure. It's not something I believe myself or think others around me believe. Neither is it the reality that any of the incredibly beautiful and strong minded feminist women I know, (of which I am insanely lucky to know many) are ever considered unattractive in any sense for their views. But still, I'm wary of speaking out too much or too strongly, because people don't like it, and it's still something rooted in me that I need to please. And being a feminist is to be ugly. And being ugly is to be unloveable. Occasionally that fear that you think is irrational, manifests into reality and it is a horrible thing. Sometimes striving to be aware of the fact we live in a racist ableist cissexist hetero-patriarchal society is too much for other people. You see their faces flinch slightly as something basic and integral to their world view becomes slightly shaken by a comment I have made. In their expression I can read that I have not pleased them, that I have gone too far and questioned too much, and brought too much negativity to their door, and that makes me unattractive. It is something I have been rejected for.

    I have often found however, that there is something liberating about the thing that you are afraid of happening, actually happening. Because once it has, there is nothing left to be afraid of. Nothing left but to grow and be stronger. I've learnt that it's important to see yourself as beautiful, and to feel confident in your body, but there is a lot to be said for having confidence in who you are and what you believe. Feminism has given me a lot of strength through knowledge and understanding, but it is still a label which is sometimes still met with trepidation. There will always be people that will find something about having opinions which challenge societal norms and assumptions an unattractive thing, but living to please others is never going to work; people will either like what you've got to offer or they won't. Loving yourself is of course the most important thing. Loving yourself physically isn't enough, you have to love every part of you, and that includes every belief you have which might make other people feel uncomfortable.

Laurie Penny, Unspeakable Things

"Whoever we are, our understanding of gender, politics and feminism is going to be conditioned by our experience of love and sex, especially if we are straight. When we speak of fighting sexism, whether we know it or not, we’re bringing our broken hearts to the table, we’re bringing our wounded pride to the table, all those stomach-twisting sexual rejections, our frustration, our loneliness and longing, the memory of betrayal, the pain of our childhoods. We’re also bringing the anxious heat of our desire, our passion for our friends and partners and children, every time a lover has laid a hand softly over a part of your soul you didn’t know was stinging and soothed it. All of that at once, and more, and more, because gender politics are personal as well as political, but that doesn’t mean the political has to collapse into the personal"

This extract is from Laurie Penny's book, Unspeakable Things: Sex, lies and revolution (of which you can find an extract of here. or even better buy it, because it's amazing). I started with this quote though because it poetically and emotively sums up what it means to say that the personal is political. We are conditioned by our experiences, and when we comprehend, understand, discuss issues around gender and sex, it is our lived experiences which inform our understanding.
Penny's book is perfect. It looks at contemporary feminism in the way it should be looked at. As a personal experience of power which affects us all, not just females. It questions sex and sexuality in a way which needs to be questioned, it highlights the intersectional nature of oppressions, and addresses the misogyny in leftwing politics, the media, the internet. Her writing is beautiful and personal, and she is able to use language to express things which are often difficult to comprehend with the limits of the english language. Sometimes experience can only be felt and understood in abstract terms before words make it tangible, and Laurie Penny did that for me.