I recently went through my closet and took out almost every single piece of clothing that is in the very least binding uncomfortable or torturous. It was immensely liberating, and I was grinning from ear to ear the entire time that I was boxing that shit up to haul it out of my house.
When in the hell is enough even enough with this stuff? At what point does every intelligent woman not stop and say why in the fuck do I keep doing this to myself?
How much time do each and every single one of us spend on a day to day basis adjusting the ridiculously contrived clothing that is designed to look this way or that way? Pull down the skirt. Straighten the hair. Plump up the cleavage. Suck in the stomach. Stretch out the neck. Cover the waistline. Pull up the run in the hose. Straighten the pants. Tighten the belt.
Good fucking god, how much time in a day do we spend adjusting ourselves to look the way that we are supposed to when the only adjustment that a man ever makes is to shake his balls into a more comfortable position?
How many of us have kept a pair of jeans or a dress in our closet for literal years, even moved it to a different residence a time or two in the hopes that we would finally go on that miraculous starvation diet that would make us capable of fitting into them?
Companies actually manufacture little goddamn slippers that we can carry in our purses so that when our fuck-me shoes eventually render us injured and incapable of walking, we will have a little emergency reserve to cover our feet while we hobble home in pain.
I have seen Oprah Winfrey, a woman who is a female role model to thousands, walk onto her set on television and immediately sit down proclaiming that her shoes are absolutely gorgeous, but certainly not made for walking.
One might question why anyone in their right bloody mind would spend thousands of dollars on a pair of shoes that don’t even support walking, but that is a topic for another day.
I have discussed with my husband how much women could have accomplished in this world by now if we were not constantly handicapped by the upkeep of our appearances. By now women could cured cancer and fed every child all over the world if we would simply refuse to keep playing this fucked game and focus on what is important.
We like to feel pretty, sure we do, I am a woman too, and I understand, but is the primary reason that we are conditioned to derive so much joy from appreciating our own trussed up physical presentation precisely because we are incapable of deriving as much joy from our effectual accomplishments instead?
We are an oppressed population, but the pivotal thing to remember at this point in history is that we are currently far more oppressed by ourselves than we are by the male population in general. For American women, this is the case.
So for a start, I suggest that you go through your own closet and throw out all of that crap that makes you feel like shit and distracts you from your life the entire time that you are wearing it.
Secondly, I recommend that you start paying attention to exactly how much time you are putting into looking the way that society dictates you should look. There are a shitload of elements to factor in:
*Shopping for clothes and shoes, jewelry, underwear, and makeup.
*Getting your hair done, or your nails and toes.
*Showering, scrubbing, shaving, and buttering your body.
*Doing your hair and applying your make-up.
*Getting dressed every day.
*Calorie counting, dieting, and loss of energy related to denying yourself food for the purpose of losing or gaining weight to adjust your physical appearance.
*Body sculpting that is done for the purpose of augmenting your looks rather than for general health or for the feeling of accomplishment that comes with meeting a physical challenge.
Now, take a deep breath and start adding up how much you spend on all of this bullshit on any given month. What could you do with all of that money? Where could you go on vacation? What kind of amazing experiences could you have? What sort of degree could you have possibly paid for over the past ten years?
Maybe all of that beauty stuff is more important to you than anything else that you could accomplish with all of the time or money that you could save if you were willing to let it go. Or maybe, just maybe, it is not.