*8 Reasons Why I’m Angry

It’s been a funny few weeks, hasn’t it? I don’t really know where to start, so I’m going to make a list of ALL the things that have got my dander up recently. Syrian refugees have been crossing the Med in their thousands and only when the shocking picture of a wee lad lying dead on a beach is shared around social media do governments decide to do something about it. We have a proper socialist leader of the Labour party for the first time in years and within 48 hours of his landslide victory he’s called a threat to national security and blamed for the right wing media devoting their front pages to him not singing the national anthem rather than criticising the tax credit cuts the TORIES made law on the same day. As if they...

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All Woman

This is one of my ranty posts, so I hope you are sitting comfortably with a nice cup of tea. What’s with all the “real women” nonsense in the media just now? Seriously, I’d like to know because it’s making me incredibly angry and I’m sure there are worthier causes out there to get my dander up about. In the past few weeks I’ve seen work by photographers using “real women” in their scanties, “real women” instagramming their stretch marks, advertisers using “real women” to sell soap and deodorant, and Kim Kardashian. Ladies, we’ve now officially been given permission not to be perfect. What a relief. I don’t know about you, but as a big wummin I’ve been feeling an imposter to my sex for years. Not. The media is now patting us on our collective lardy arses and...

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The F Word

Recently, my Facebook wall has been covered by a proliferation of semi-naked ripped men and it doesn’t make me happy. Let me explain. When I was a girl in the 1960s and 70s, women did not have equality. We were expected to be housewives, secretaries or work in factories for a fraction of what our male counterparts earned. Tabloid newspapers all had photos of topless women on Page Three, we were told if we were raped while wearing a short skirt we were asking for it and if we were not virgins (assuming a rape case even got to court), our entire sexual history would be paraded in before the jury to make us look like hookers. Then Women’s Lib became a movement, some burned their bras to metaphorically free themselves from the shackles and restraints...

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No Means No

[tweetmeme source=”nettiewriter” http://www.URL.com] On Saturday afternoon my daughter and I took part in a Slutwalk in Glasgow. This movement started in Toronto where a Police Officer told women to stop dressing like sluts if they didn’t want to be raped. The chant of the protesters on Saturday was, “Whatever we wear, wherever we go, yes means yes and no means no”. It is strong and assertive – exactly what women should be regardless of age or situation and I was proud to take part; proud to walk beside a group of men and women who were supporting a woman’s right to choose and especially proud to be walking with my fifteen-year old daughter. But I was also heartbroken. I remember the seventies. I remember when most sit-coms were populated by leering...

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