Now feminism is just completely IN, in every regard, I find myself being emailed quite often by various commissioning editors (HI GUYS LOVE YOU LOVE YOU MWAH) being asked: “Looking for women who are endlessly whistled at or groped on the tube, propositioned while jogging etc.”
And I was like, what do you mean ETCETERA? None of those things has ever happened to me, ever.
Very occasionally I am whistled at by a builder or by someone in a van and, to be completely honest with you, I am relieved. I don’t want to make light of sexism and sexual assault and stuff but genuinely I feel relief, like, as in, phew I do actually exist as a woman and not just as a flesh puppet wandering about doing my shopping.
There was a totally hilarious piece in the Daily Mail the other day, written by a woman called Julia Stephenson, who someone is trying to turn into the new Samantha Brick, saying that she’s too pretty to be faithful.
And I looked at her and I thought, is she really that prettier than me? Is my ridiculous high self-esteem and body dysmorphia, (in my head I look like Giselle), so rampant that I am genuinely imagining myself to be many degrees more attractive than I actually am?
If not, why has no-one, not a single soul, propositioned me in the 7 years that I have been married?
It’s because I’ve been constantly pregnant or with small children, I tell myself. It’s because I’ve got a standoffish air, I am scary, my face in repose says BACK THE FUCK OFF OR I WILL SKIN YOU – even though I am only ever thinking about wallpaper.
If hassled I will give you a look like an eagle peering through plantation shutters. Useful in many circumstances! But not very winning to men.
But I suspect the truth is less that I am unapproachably cool and tough and more that my pouchy hamster face, freckles and ruddy cheeks remind men of that kid off the cover of MAD. And luckily my husband was more of a Beano fan.
Anyway fuck them! Who cares. Who needs men. Not me. Well I only need one man and we all know who that is:
KARL LAGERFELD.
I have my heart set on a Chanel neckerchief, to be tied jauntily around the neck, hair, wrist or bag this Spring. I have decided that an actual Chanel bag is unnecessary and possibly even dangerously foolish.
At roughly £300, a silk Chanel handkerchief is properly sploshingly bonkersley expensive for what it is, but in the grand scheme of things, not that expensive.
I rather love the colours on this one:
or this one:
There are also lots available on Vestiaire for less pukey amounts (you have to sign up to look on the website – but here are my favourites).
I think I must have got your share. I’ve had breasts squeezed, bottom slapped, a car follow me down a road with men shouting out of it, a man following me and saying stuff in a park. This has been at university, in bars, at work in an office, an inappropriate driving instructor. I’m not counting whistles and the endless “smile love'”s. I don’t include compliments or friendly banter. That can be very nice and is non-creepy if the person doing it is not a creep. I guess it does skew your view of these things if you’ve had it happen to you a lot, I’m very glad of all the recent awareness of it as it makes me feel less miserable about it and more able to tell my daughter how to handle it. I know I’ve blamed myself for incidents, and dealt with them with a put down when I should have filed a complaint. It has happened less as I’ve got older and had my children with me, but I mainly dress like a potato and hang out at soft play. I don’t miss it, and it never made me feel attractive. Not like a Chanel scarf would.
It gets worse as you get older of course..although I had a semi toothless man pedalling madly away beside me on his excercise bike in the gym trying to chat me up last week…so I guess one must try to be thankful for very small mercies .
I think my nearly 6 footness and unsympathetic face means I’ve been mostly left alone. Even in Italy. Although once, a man fell over and accidentally grabbed my arse to stop himself falling over. Thought it was an odd way to fall at the time, only realised it was a grope years later…
oh, and I’ve got a great vintage Karl Lagerfeld silk scarf from the 80s – its peach and pink and a bit garish and goes brilliantly with my new trench coat. They always go for a song in charity shops as not many people bother with silk scarves these days….
So agree with the DM comment, just looked at her face on front page and thought… ‘really?”
Im tall and terrifying, and haven’t been harassed overly since I was I my mid twenties (5 whole years ago). Before then, I had ample sexual harassment and assault. It actually changed when I started dyeing my hair ridiculously bright red. Clearly looking like a tall, furious GODDESS has its advantages.
It’s never happened to me either (mind you I might not have noticed; always got earphones in when out and about) but if it does, I like to think my avenging-Fury impression is sufficiently terrifying enough to make them sorry they were born.
£300??? £300!!!???? Sorry but that’s nuts. For a SCARF? SURELY no one can tell it’s Chanel but you? Then again the smugness is probably part of the fun of having it. Like wearing sexy pants that no one sees but you. You know what? TREAT YO SELF.
I read it and thought ‘I’ve got so little self confidence that I need constant validation’ or even ‘I’m so keen on myself that I haven’t developed a sense of self that can keep a decent relationship going’ . But then I thought it’s the DM so it’s about inviting mockery of women so I guess they’ve succeeded.
The DM know what they are doing for sure… xxx
I can’t go near it or I’m down the rabbit hole, reading about Jane Seymour’s new worktops and half the day has gone by. Click, click, click.
yes Mail Online never helped anyone do anything
Just googled this article as obvioulsly I never read the daily mail online. Im speechless please shoot me or her now!
I always feel a bit sorry for the journalists who write those clickbait-y pieces- I imagine some struggling freelancer trying to weigh up whether paying next month’s rent is a good enough reason to make herself look like an absolute bellend.
I used to get lots of whistles (which I didn’t mind too much) and gropes (which I minded a lot) pre-kids. Now I’m older, fatter, usually dressed in horrific baggy jeans and sack-like jumper, generally in Waitrose or on the school run or at work, not out and about having fun- it’s like I’m completely invisible. Don’t know which is worse.
yes I have done too many click baity pieces & it’s not worth it. all you get are commissions for more click baity pieces xx
I hate the headlines of your click bait. You’re basically a cooler, thinner and more interesting version of me (ie very very different. I don’t care about scarves). What I’m trying to say is you are Spartacus.
ha ha! I’ve never seen Spartacus, but I’m assuming that’s a positive comparison. I know I hate doing those pieces and I’m never doing one again. not. worth. it.
I’ve never seen it either (films are too long, especially “classic” ones). I just know that they’re all Spartacus (but they may all get killed. Not sure. But I’m definitely not going to watch it to find out). However, I’m being positive about you in my own weird way.
That’s fine.
I had to fill out a questionnaire thing recently and there was a whole section on if I had ever been sexually assaulted or harassed and by whom- partner, friend, colleague, acquaintance, stranger. The questions were so specific and detailed as to draw out the truth and I was horrified to realise I’d been mildly harassed a lot in the last 20 years! And grabbed in pubs/ clubs etc. which is assault, although again mild compared to what happens to some people obviously. I would probably have answered ‘no’ without really thinking but the questions made me realise it was definitely yes. I don’t think it actually has anything to do with attractiveness. Elaine x
who knows!? another commentator thought it had to do with pheromones and smell…
This is exactly my experience
I can’t even recall being wolf whistled. I am so pleased to read what you say, it perfectly articulates my feelings. I also attribute it to my massively over inflated self esteem or completely uninteresting presence (one or the other) It means I lack empathy I reckon.
I totally lack empathy, Polly – and I think people can tell that from across the street
I was on a bench (alone) beside a lake in Italy and an Italian man was saying to me ‘bellissimo’ and gesturing towards his van. There was nobody nearby. My response at the time was to keep gesturing towards the view and saying ‘si bellissimo.’ Because at the time I thought I shouldn’t be so arrogant to assume he’s talking about me and didn’t think about the potential threat of him actually forcing me into his van. Women don’t know when they’re in a potentially dangerous situation and I just hate that my reaction was to think -oh I mustn’t insult him by saying I don’t want to get in your van, or even be so arrogant to assume that was his objective. I really worry that they were my thoughts.