Posts Categorized: feminism

For Whom Are You Dressing?

for whom are you dressing

You flip through catalogs and magazines. You browse around clothing and accessory shops, both in person and online, and make choices about which pieces to incorporate into your own wardrobe. You peruse the style blogs and note tempting trends and bold pairings. And then you open your closet door to choose the day’s outfit.

Who is your audience? For whom are you dressing?

Obviously, the answer will change depending on the woman, the day, the activity. Also potentially at play: Age, mood, season, and other individualized factors too numerous to count. There is no single answer to this question, and there is no WRONG answer, either. When I asked this question of myself, I realized that, like so many theoretical stylistic queries, it leads me to goals rather than maxims.


On Vanity

I’ve begun updating some of my greatest hits posts so they’re more current. This is one of them!

what is vanity

When it comes to public opinions on beauty-related activities and efforts, the mixed messages can get positively dizzying. If you spend loads of money, time, and effort creating a physical presentation that aligns with socially sanctioned beauty ideals, you may be told you’re vain. If you reject the idea that all women should conform to a single beauty standard and shun the clothing silhouettes and grooming practices associated with that standard, you may be told you’re frumpy. If you consider a manicure or facial or other practice associated with enhancing or improving your looks, people may scoff. If you are perfectly happy au naturale, people may sneer.


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Self Objectification, Kim K., and the Power of Not Giving a F*ck

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Image by Mark Raker

By Kristine Rose, AP contributor

I will always be grateful to the Jewish side of my family for not being pushy. From them I got some chocolate-covered coins, a few good stories, and my wavy hair. The Catholic side was a bit keener on the indoctrination shtick. From the age of seven I was to attend CCD classes so Jesus could enter my heart; whether I wanted him there or not wasn’t much of a concern. For a few weeks the teacher gave me the hard sell and I gave this unfamiliar world a shot. I even opened the bible of my own accord a couple of times. Some of it was violent, I could dig that.