She wears it well…

So. The weather is getting better. Spring is here, the sun’s out, we can put our bobble hats away for another few months and choose our footwear based on what we like, instead of what is least likely to make us fall over on our arses in the ice. Run free, all of you, I’ll see you back here in October.

Oh wait, hang on a minute. You’re not a woman are you? You are? In that case there are a few little rules you need to consider.

Look online and there are countless articles telling women what they shouldn’t be wearing, whether they’re over 20, 30 or 40. But especially after the age of 50, because apparently that lot are all over the place and despite the fact that a lot of them have made actual people in their own bodies and have fantastic careers and are generally sorted in almost every other area of their lives, they just can’t be trusted to choose the right thing to wear.

I did a little bit of research before I started writing this and found pages and pages of ‘rules’. It was hard to work out what age these particular ‘rules’ are aimed at, but I think we can safely assume that if you have a vagina, you’re wearing the wrong thing. If you’re not covering up too much, you’re showing too much of yourself off (asking for it! Whatever ‘it’ is, although usually ‘it’ means any bad behaviour men don’t want to take responsibility for). It’s a very fine line but you must get it right as that’s what you’re for, silly, to look right.

So then, what shouldn’t you be wearing? You might want to jot these down.

It seems to be mainly leather, leopard print, mini skirts, horizontal stripes, shorts, berets and black eyeliner, for starters.

I’m amazed I’m still walking free. I have all of these things and sometimes, in the case of my leopard print beret, leather jacket, stripy top and black eyeliner, wear quite a few of them combined. How do I even sleep at night?

Also, don’t wear black. What do you mean, you like it? Are you not listening to me? It drains you, you imbecile and apparently it washes you out, whatever that means. If you must wear black then add a pop of colour by wearing a brightly coloured scarf at a jaunty angle. Which is a sentence I actually read in a grown up, serious woman’s magazine.

It’s worth remembering that you should be wearing a scarf anyway, to cover your baggy old neck and your wrinkly décolletage. I’m not entirely sure I know what a décolletage is, or where mine is. I’m pretty certain I have one though, I think it’s somewhere between my ribs and my neck. Ah, I expect it’s so wrinkly I’ve probably mistakenly tucked it away under an armpit or something. Next!

Don’t show your bare arms. I can’t believe I’m even having to tell you this. Bare arms might be a little bit wobbly and as you know, society doesn’t do wobbly so stop it. Wobbly is like wrinkly, it reminds people that age is just waiting around the corner and they don’t like it, so cover them up now, damn you.

Right, where were we? Oh yes, don’t wear black sleeveless tops with low necks. What next?

There’s a whole section on how to wear jeans. Yes, that’s right, how to wear them. Apparently this procedure is a whole lot more complicated than just putting them on. I know, you’ve been doing it wrong your whole life! Idiot.

Don’t wear blue and green, don’t show your toes, don’t get a tattoo as one day your skin might go wrinkly and the world will END,

There’s a whole list of sub-sections about what you should and shouldn’t wear if you’re a fat woman, or a thin one, or a fat old woman or a woman who’s older than 30 yet younger than 40 who’s a bit thin at the top and then a bit fat further down. And you don’t stand a chance if you’re a pregnant woman because jeez, you might as well just stay inside for 9 months as you’re never going to get it right. It’s fine though, because being pregnant means that everyone has free reign to make comments about, as well as actually touch, your body so I’m sure someone will give you a piece of helpful advice.

Women are judged by what they wear in a way men never are. There are no articles about what men over 40 should and shouldn’t be wearing, apart from a few half-hearted attempts that mention skinny jeans and sandals with socks. But the clothing rules for men seem to consist of buy stuff, put that stuff on, go out in aforementioned stuff, forget about it until you need to take the stuff off again, or the stuff falls apart. Sorted. What’s for lunch?

We’re told what we should and shouldn’t wear by the media, by society, by each other. We police each other, saying things like ‘Look at you with your legs out! You’re brave!’

I was told I was brave last summer, for daring to wear a sleeveless top. (Which reminds me, we need to have a word about being brave. Oh, people say, you’re so brave writing that/sharing that/wearing that. I hear it thrown around so often. Brave is running into a burning house to rescue a child, or surviving a war, or standing up to a bully. Brave is not wearing a top with no sleeves. Stop throwing it around willy nilly, you’re watering it down).

There’s always something else to worry about. You get one thing sorted and another pops up, one minute we’re supposed to be worried about our knees, the next our elbows or our ankles. We’re either too hairy, too white, too tanned, too fat, too thin. It’s a minefield.

Why do we care?

Even though I think society has made us care, women don’t help each other. They judge and sneer and whisper, commenting on the height of necklines and hems, forced into a competitiveness they never wanted in the first place. It’s exhausting.

So here’s my advice.

Wear what the hell you want, when you want to. Nobody actually cares, and if they do they need to stop and will only do that if everyone just does what they want to and breaks these ‘rules’.

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Jeez, I want a cape.

Harrison Ford, Robert de Niro, Alan Rickman, Jack Nicholson, Bruce Willis, Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford.

What do they all have in common? They are all sex symbols. They have been sex symbols throughout their careers and continue to be so even though they’re all over 50, quite a bit over fifty in some cases, (I’m looking at you, Redford). It seems the older they get, the more we like them, with their crinkly eyes and inappropriate flirting on chat shows. They can do no wrong as they continue to be wheeled out, looking increasingly dazed and confused but hey, they are silver foxes, they are foxy over-fifty’s, they just get better with age. It’s like they’ve never even heard of saga holidays and Shackleton high seat chairs.

Look at Tom Jones for example, who seems to have turned into some kind of demi-god. He sits there grunting at young women, but bless him, that’s allowed, he’s from a different era when it was considered normal to leer at young women, they should be honoured! Or even Cliff Richard, who despite allegations of child sex abuse, still has millions of loyal female fans. But never mind all that stuff, just look at how good he looks! What an inspiration! Yeah, sure they have a few liver spots now and not much hair but that rugged look is so sexy, right?

Meanwhile, some woman, Madonna or somebody, seems she thinks she can still be in the public eye, being all successful and talented, even though she’s passed the cut-off point of 40. What was she thinking? Hasn’t she even read the rule book?

I think the thing with Madonna is that she probably did read the rule book, saw it for the nonsense it so clearly is and ripped it to shreds on the points of her shiny, metal bra.

She’s never behaved how she’s supposed to. She’s always lived by her own rules. From the minute she appeared in a music video wearing a slutty wedding dress and singing about being a virgin accompanied by the sound of my dad tutting, I knew she was someone different. She’s always done what she wanted, and looked great doing it. And when she got to the age that women are normally expected to disappear, she kept on going, still pushing boundaries, still making dads tut, constantly reinventing herself.

I watched the clip of her falling over at the Brit awards through my fingers. I didn’t like it, it looked hurty. Now if it this had happened to me I’d have run off crying, my default reaction to hurting myself. I’d probably have flounced my cape a bit on the way out. But she barely missed a beat, she got up and carried on singing, like nothing had happened.

The media reaction was horrible. It was like You’ve Been Framed on steroids. We saw the clip of it from every angle and with every possible pun and you couldn’t post a retweet of a puppy on a skateboard on Twitter for all the hilarious jokes about how Grandma could have broken her hip. Suddenly, Woman Falls Over was big news, but in actual fact I read it more as Woman Dares to Behave Inappropriately for her Age, because we were constantly reminded that she is 56. Like it matters.

But it does. She is constantly criticised for being outspoken, (even about sex! Sex! Imagine!) and bossy (Women, know your place!). And whereas ambition in a man is seen as a positive trait; a sexy, powerful trait even, an ambitious woman is seen as ugly. It’s not natural for a woman to be ambitious. What does she need ambition for? Her only ambition should be to serve her man and produce children, and then once she has done her duty and her ovaries have retired and settled back with their Werthers originals and their knitting, she should quietly fade into the background, away from the public eye. I need to check that rule book again because ageism seems to be allowed, while most of the other isms aren’t. It’s so hard to keep up.

So I refuse to be part of the sheer glee that people felt at her finally getting her comeuppance. I don’t want to be one of those women who are manipulated into sneering at other women because I hope Madonna continues to be a badass until she’s in her 90s.

Meanwhile, the vlogger, Zoella, was photographed a gabillion times this week because she dared to leave her house without make-up. She was virtually unrecognisable apparently. Not that this is a big deal, the papers hastened to add, but hey, here’s another close-up anyway.

These women are going wild, if they’re not flouncing around in capes being fabulous and successful and independent, they’re actually showing impressionable young girls that you don’t need to plaster your face in make-up all the time. It’s anarchy. Save yourselves.

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Feminist in Not Hating 50 Shades Shocker – Part Two (with added pubic hair).

So this afternoon I went to see the damn thing. After all, I can’t be writing blog posts and Facebook comments defending it without having seen it. (Although that doesn’t seem to have stopped most of the people who are telling me not to see it.)

My verdict? It was a good film. When I heard that it had been given a 12 certificate in France and Germany I was quite shocked, but now I’ve seen it I can see why. It’s pretty tame, you don’t actually see much sex. I don’t think I’d be too worried about my 14yr old seeing it.

I went into it with an open mind. I tried not to think of all the things I’d read about it, although it’s hard not to take all that into a film with you, as some of it has been pretty strong. For example, letters from psychiatrists advising all women to stay away from it come across as pretty heavy, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting my feminist shackles to be hauled up at some point.

But actually? It was pretty tame. It seems to me to be just a typical romance story, but with some whips. Yes it’s a bit silly sometimes, and some of the lines they come out with make you giggle, but that happens in most so-called romance films, doesn’t it? I was annoyed by the kind of things that always annoy me in films. For example, nobody ever says goodbye when they’re on the phone, everyone finds a car parking space straight away and nobody ever seems to need a wee. But as hard as I looked, I couldn’t see anything that suggested an abusive relationship, and yes, I’m fully aware of all the different kinds of abusive relationships there can be, thank you, it’s just that this isn’t one of them. In fact, the only slightly manipulative relationship I noticed in the book is the one between Anastasia and her best friend, who talks down to her and treats her like an idiot. But I suppose that’s fine as it’s a woman doing it.

My main impression was that she comes across as the one in charge and I liked her character, she laughed at some of the sex stuff, like most of us would. And as lovely as Jamie Dornan is, (and, after seeing him in The Fall recently, I kept expecting Gillian Anderson to jump out in one of her nice silk blouses, which might have spiced it up a little bit) he does come across as a bit of an idiot; he’s annoying and his idea of relationships is screwed up. But then normal, well-balanced relationships and situations don’t make great films.

I find it quite hard to believe that any woman would come out of this film thinking that it portrays a normal, healthy relationship, and we all know that relationships that start out with one person trying to change the other, just don’t work. I find it very patronising to be told that I shouldn’t like, or even watch this film because of what it’s apparently about, based on what someone heard someone else say about a film based on a book that they haven’t even read. I’m perfectly capable of distinguishing between reality and fantasy; I know, for example, that when I go and watch Shaun the Sheep, which I will inevitably be forced to do, that sheep don’t actually wear jumpers or drive cars, so give me some credit.

I came away feeling much more disturbed by the trailers that were shown before the film. The usual action films showing mindless violence and scantily clad women who serve no purpose except to look good; so-called romance films that portray women as manipulative and emotionally shallow. It seems that manipulation in a film is fine, if it’s a woman manipulating a man. Equality indeed.

On a lighter note, whoever decided to show an ad for a lubricant just before an ad for an erectile dysfunction helpline, deserves a medal.

And I will end on the best bit of the film. While you mainly just see some nipples and a bare bottom, you do get a flash of pubic hair, and I can happily report that it is all there, proud and bushy. It seems that grown women actually do have body hair after all, who knew? I bet you don’t get that with Shaun the Sheep. Not that I’d want to, of course, that would be weird.

So I promise never to mention this film again. Until the sequel comes out.

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Feminist in Not Hating 50 Shades Shocker!!

Unless you’ve been wearing a blindfold while living in a sex dungeon for the past few weeks you may have noticed that the 50 Shades film is coming out soon.

Is there any book that has been analysed to the extent that this book has? I just read someone’s blog where they listed 50 things in it that indicate what a wicked book it is. Jeez, for a book you absolutely hate with a passion (passion, get it?) you’re spending a lot of time in it. And the irony is that considering most of the complaints are about how manipulative and abusive it is, its haters are being pretty manipulative and abusive about, and towards, people who stick up for it. So we’re swapping one set of manipulation for another, and that winds me up and brings out my stubborn side. Because what I hate more than ever is being told what I should and shouldn’t think about something.

I read the books, mainly out of curiosity, but then I carried on because I actually did want to know what happened in the end. It wasn’t too bad. I actually ended up flicking through the sex scenes, which hasn’t happened with me and a book since…well since never. And no, I’m not a ‘bored, frustrated housewife’ as someone very offensively described its readers but you know, even if I was, what’s it to you anyway? Why shouldn’t a bored, frustrated woman read something like that? A bit of pure escapism. Bored, frustrated men get away with all kinds of things. It’s not as socially acceptable for women to talk or read about their sexuality so if this is what it takes to give someone a taste of erotic fiction, what’s the problem? A lot of women like that kind of story, the ‘plain, shy girl meets a glamorous man and turns into a beautiful swan’ type thing. And in the end it’s the main female character who manipulates him in to doing exactly what she wants.

There’s a lot of talk about the BDSM aspect. Some BDSM fans have complained, others haven’t, there’s no surprise there, not all BDSM fans think exactly the same. Like not all feminists think the same, (not that I’m comparing being a feminist to being into BDSM although jeez, sometimes you might as well have a ball gag in for all the notice people take of you) and actually, not all people think the same.

I witnessed a very smug discussion amongst women who should know better in which they were saying that if you need to tie someone up to have sex then you’re not doing it right, which completely misses the point of it. Sexual snobbery, like genre snobbery, is still snobbery and it should stop. It made me feel uncomfortable, like those conversations where women complain about their husbands wanting sex, ‘oh I’d rather have a cup of tea and a biscuit’ they chortle as they perpetuate the ‘sex is for men’ myth that we’re trying so hard to lose. You can never anticipate what might turn someone else on, so if the tampon scene in 50 Shades isn’t your thing, don’t dismiss it as weird, just accept it and move on.

I’ve been told I’m not a ‘proper’ feminist if I stick up for this book but seriously, it’s a story, someone’s fantasy and as I’ve ranted about before, who are we to tell someone else what they can and can’t fantasise about. And unless you’re really into it I don’t think there’s any way that the consent issues surrounding BDSM can be explained logically to someone who’s not, so if it’s not for you, don’t read it. Put it down, walk away and find another book, there are quite a few out there, some much worse than this one in terms of quality of writing and the depiction of spanking. But actually a lot of women have read this book, and will go and see the film, so it’s obviously doing something for quite a lot of people.

50 shades was in no way the best book I’ve ever read but it definitely wasn’t the worst. There are many more books out there that describe male domination over women in a much more subtle way, but nobody complains about those. Is it really the sex people have a problem with? A lot of the discussions about this book have been by women who seem to be sneering at the kind of women who might read it, it all feels a bit misogynistic to me and misogyny by other women makes me sad.

The things that happen in 50 Shades happen in films and books that are released every week, each with their own cunning marketing ploys, the difference is that this doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is. There’s no chance of anyone wandering into this film and being surprised. If you’re not comfortable with seeing it, you don’t have to. That’s much simpler than going to see an everyday popular film only to find that yet again the main character is male and the female character is dumbed down and sexualised. Look at all the fuss Frozen caused because for the first time ever there was a female lead character who was saved by another female. It was like Beauty and the Beast never happened, with its story of a shy, innocent girl being abused by a powerful older man. Oh wait…that sounds familiar.

So here’s a tip. If you want to go and see it, go and see it and ignore the sneery comments. And if you don’t, then don’t.

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Tits! Again! It’s like I’m obsessed.

So, today feminism had a victory. We can all give up and go home now. We can pack away our dungarees, shave our legs and start liking men again. We’ve won. Page 3 is no more. Or rather, the nipples on page 3 are no more. Obviously you can still see a woman in a skimpy bikini and there are actual bare nipples on the online version of the paper, but there’s no longer any chance that an unsuspecting man, in search of some decent Ukipper news to read, might suddenly be accosted by the sight of a stray nipple in his newspaper. Because nipples remind men of piano legs. Or something…

But of course, while the nipples have gone the sexualisation of women is still everywhere; the judgemental photos of female celebrities in bikinis, the opinions of women shot down with discussions about how ugly they are. The disregard of talented female actresses as we say, never mind her role in the film, what was she wearing and could we see her tits?

There’s still a huge gap between how men and women are portrayed.

A man appears on a talent show and mentions that he didn’t pursue his singing career because of his young daughter. The audience, mostly women, goes wild and roars out ‘Aww!’ as one. They are practically wetting themselves with excitement, he is a walking, talking Athena poster. Meanwhile, a billion women behind him sigh and get on with the housework. They too gave up their dreams to look after a child, and often a husband, and do a crappy job that they hate because it’s not quite as good as the one they had before, but they have no choice because they disappeared once they gave birth and they’re just grateful that their boss doesn’t complain to much when they have to leave early to take their kid to the doctors, so they can’t complain too much or make a fuss and nobody cheers them. The most we can do is tell them they look like shit, can’t cook and are bad mothers.

And our daughters starve themselves and get rid of their pubic hair and try to look like some model in a magazine who doesn’t even look like that herself so yes, this is a triumph, of sorts, but it feels like an empty one.

It’s not that I’m offended by naked breasts, or even topless models. If that’s what they want to do then get them out, spray some cold water on those nipples and smile. But there’s a place for that kind of thing and that place isn’t in a newspaper. Because what does offend me is how normal it has become to see scantily clad women in amongst news items and car ads. I’m not against nudity, we need more normal, un-photoshopped naked bodies around, but I am against the overall portrayal of women in the media.

One of the things I hated most about Page 3 was the text next to the photographs. For example, ‘Bunty, 23 from Cheshire says that she lives her life according to the teachings of Carl Jung’. The joke being, of course, that an attractive woman would never in a million years have heard of Jung, never mind know what his philosophy was. Imagine! Oh how we laugh as we battle yet another stereotype.

And I don’t think for one minute that Mr. Murdoch did this because he suddenly realised that he was adding to the general degradation of women, in the same way that I don’t think any of the football clubs who backed away from a deal with Ched Evans did so because he raped an unconscious woman and then lied about it. It’s all about money, and the fear of advertisers and sponsors pulling out, nothing else.

So yes, it’s great, and look at what we did! But don’t forget to look at all the other stuff we still need to do.

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Reasons I’m angry.

This is my last blog post of the year. I should be banging on about New Years resolutions that remind you that you’re not good enough/thin enough/sober enough/productive enough. But we all know that’s just nonsense and you should give yourself a break.

So instead I’m going to answer a question that a couple of people have asked after reading my blog, which is – ‘why are you so angry?’

I don’t really think of myself as angry, more wearily accepting of it all. I’ve written about the importance of feminism before, here and explained that while I feel strongly, I’m not about to throw myself under a horse any time soon.

But if I am angry, there are plenty of reasons why. Here are just a few.

  • Because nothing seems to have changed, we take one step forwards and two steps back.

  • Because even on the eve of 2015 women who don’t want children are patronised and seen as unnatural, they make us nervous and constantly have to explain themselves in a way men who don’t want children don’t. But then conversely, women who do have children are seen as mindless. They don’t contribute to society in a way that anyone can understand or measure, so they disappear for a while until there is a point to them again. Women who go back to work have to explain themselves, as do women who want to stay at home with their kids. The really sad thing is that most of this explaining is to other women.

  • Because it still seems that women are either attractive or clever and people still express surprise when they are both. There’s an idea that women who like things like make-up are shallow, as if every bit of make up you wear burns another brain cell. Surely there’s not enough room in the female brain to hold information about eye-liner AND politics? So be pretty at all times, but not too pretty, or too fat. Or too thin either actually as either way you’ll be picked on. Please keep up. *Disclaimer: Society reserves the right to change these rules randomly, and with no logic.

  • Because everyone tells you to breastfeed but then expects you to do it out of sight. It’s exhausting. One minute we’re being told to get them out, then we have to put them away again because we didn’t get them out in the right way, or we got them out too much or they didn’t look right or Nigel Farage was tired and feeling a bit offended by breasts. Jeez, it’s like you women think they belong to you or something.

  • Because women are still blamed for ‘getting themselves’ raped. We can send a space probe to Mars and grow a human ear on a rat’s back, but when a man rapes an unconscious woman the emphasis is still on what SHE did. Male instincts and impulses are still used as a defence and it’s the woman’s job to make sure she doesn’t provoke these by adjusting her behaviour, preferably by wearing more and drinking less and just generally being less noticeable. There are all kinds of guidelines out there about how to avoid being raped, they even have ads on the back of buses. It’s maybe time to have a few guidelines out there for men to help them avoid raping in the first place, but what do I know.

  • Because women are still separated into stereotypes. They either talk about fluff and nonsense, or are planning their dungaree-clad revenge on poor, unsuspecting men who are only trying to hold the damn door open! They are witches or sluts or nags or virgins and women still feel they should laugh along at this shit in case they come across as a man-hating, vagina-studying killjoy who can’t take a joke.

  • Because we’re still having to apologise for our sexuality. If we want sex we’re sluts and if we don’t we’re frigid. Society wants to sexualise women at every opportunity but only on certain terms, the minute women try to take control of their own sexuality it has to be legislated against to remind them that they still need men. It’s fine to want sex, as long as it’s the right kind of sex and at the right time.

  • Because I was recently told (by a man from a privileged, male-dominated background) that women ‘haven’t had it too bad really’, and that the reason there aren’t as many classic writers/artists etc is because women just aren’t as good at that kind of thing. Also, the pay gap is a myth and the reason a woman earns three-quarters of a man’s salary in a comparable job is because the lazy cow is hardly at work because of all her kids and periods and ripping her tights or having a bad hair day or something.

  • Because on more than one occasion, I have had to explain to my daughters why an unknown man in the street asked to look at Mummy’s tits.

  • Because apparently there are men out there who will pay good money to be taught how to get a woman into bed. Presumably there is nothing more erotic than having sex with a partner who had to be tricked into bed with you. Phwoarr, where do I sign up?

  • Because in films and on TV they still have ditsy, blonde characters and strong female leads are in the minority. There’ll be the odd one here and there but she’ll probably have issues with drink or sex. There’ll be some major flaw, something to reassure us and explain why she’s not at home ironing her husband’s shirts like a normal woman. They are never just there on their own merit, these freaks of nature. And she wont have big breasts, because the big breasted women are just that, the big-breasted woman. Their enormous bosoms literally fill the screen, leaving no room for anything like a personality. If they do manage to hoist a big breasted woman on screen using heavy-duty pulleys and a wheelbarrow then she’ll be the one killed off first.

  • Because our daughters are singing along to songs by men telling them that even though you’re saying no, they know you mean yes.

  • Because when a woman, particularly one in the public eye, makes a mistake or has an affair, or takes a naked photo of herself, she is a slut, a whore, a bad mother, a bad person. A man makes a mistake, has an affair, takes a naked photo of himself, he is a loveable rogue, he is just a good person who made a bad decision and was probably forced to act that way by a woman flaunting her wares without consideration for his natural, manly urges. He’s just being a man, something that has an edge of pride, while acting like a woman is an insult.

These are just a few things and I don’t expect you to feel the same, or even agree with me. Everyone has their own stuff, whether it’s politics or the arts or fashion or human rights or teapots or donkeys, just as long as there are things out there that make you feel something, anything. So if you are out there wondering why I’m so angry, maybe stop a minute and ask yourself why you are not.

And with that jolly little piece I’ll wish you all a Happy New Year. Thanks for reading.

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If a woman sits in a corner breastfeeding and then ejaculates in a forest…or something.

Ah women. What messes have you been getting yourselves into now? I turn my back for a couple of weeks and there you go, flaunting yourselves shamelessly, ostentatiously even, all over the place. Feeding your babies like it’s the most natural thing in the world, in a public place! Put them away! Don’t be fooled by all those ads everywhere that show breasts; those are different breasts, silly, different rules. Please keep up. We want to see your boobs whenever we can, just as long as there’s some kind of sexual angle to them that we can use to sell stuff, anything else makes us nervous. All that mysterious female stuff that suggests you’re not just here for a man’s sexual pleasure is not on, so stop it.

It seems that some people actually get offended by seeing a breastfeeding woman, but hey, who can blame them? We’ve all seen them, sitting with their cappuccinos, tops off, tits out, wearing party hats and sparkly comedy specs, shouting ‘hey everyone, get a load of these bad boys!’ at the top of their voices while squirting milk into their babies mouths from across the room, shouting ‘Bullseye!’ when it hits the target. No? What do you mean every breastfeeding woman you’ve ever seen (and all the ones you haven’t seen because you haven’t even noticed them) has just been sat quietly with a baby tucked under her top? Where’s the fun in that?

Those babies are all me, me, me demanding to be fed, just like a real person. Wont somebody think of poor Nigel Farage!

I read some of the comments in one of the many articles about this and one man compared feeding a baby in public to a couple having sex in public. Having breastfed two babies without showing anyone my vagina, I can only assume I was doing it wrong.

Talking about sex in public and double standards I really need to talk about porn this week. But don’t panic, it’ll be fine, my dad doesn’t read my blog anyway and even if he did he would have stopped reading this last year when I wrote about swearing and made everyone say the C-word out loud.

Whatever your feelings about porn, it’s here to stay and this week it was subjected to some new restrictions about what can and can’t be shown in online porn. Just remember, this is for our own good.

These things include the use of power tools (don’t ask, and for the love of God, don’t google that), caning, water sports and face sitting among many other things that are perfectly normal to be into.

I don’t like any kind of censorship, it’s a slippery slope, if we let this happen, what’s next?

But also, it worries me that a lot of the things in this list are things that depict female pleasure. It seems that anything goes, as long as it’s a women being dominated or degraded and not a man.

Female ejaculation can’t be shown, partly because it’s dangerous (it could be wee! Wee I tell you, and we all know how risky that stuff is) and there is some uncertainty about whether it even exists. There is no proof, no proper scientific proof done by a proper scientific man, so it must be nonsense. It sounds like a case of ‘if a woman ejaculates in a forest but there is no man there to understand it, did it really happen?’ but hey what do I know. Just out of interest though, it is perfectly acceptable to show a man, or indeed many men, ejaculating over a woman, or to show a woman having a big penis shoved down her throat until she gags, but god forbid we should see anything that suggests a woman is enjoying herself.

You could argue that this is a good thing because porn is degrading to women, but if that’s the case change the industry itself, not the actual content. And whatever you do, don’t tell us what we can and can’t fantasise about, especially not under the guise of protecting us. There’s no point pretending to be on our side when at the same time you’d need a blindfold not to have seen all the trailers around for the 50 Shades of Grey film, and all the other films and TV programmes out there that regularly depict women being dominated or degraded either sexually or emotionally.

The message here is that female sexuality, like female ejaculation and breasts, is an unknown thing and needs to be controlled.

And one last thing. In football a woman scored a goal, a really good goal. Did everybody see it? Yes? Good. Now can we please shut up about it or we run the risk of being more offensive than we’re trying so hard not to be.

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