A book review on the return of real feminists, in the form of British journalist Caitlin Moran.
Excerpt: "How To Be a Woman follows its anti-heroine from her 13th
birthday (182 pounds, friendless, fleeing from gravel-flinging yobs)
onward, with stops along the way to praise masturbation, argue both for
and against motherhood, celebrate her abortion, and more. Each
self-deprecating chapter (“I Start Bleeding!” “I Become Furry!” “I Don’t
Know What To Call My Breasts!”) is an occasion to explore how, from
puberty through senescence, the modern female body has become a series
of problems to be solved— usually at great expense to its inhabitant.
There is, for instance, the upkeep of that new presumed depilation (“I
can’t believe we’ve got to a point where it’s basically costing us money to
have a vagina”); the tyranny of stratospheric heels (“The minimum I ask
for my footwear: to be able to dance in it and that it not get me
murdered”); ever-teenier underpants (“How can 52 percent of the
population expect to win the war on terror if they can't even sit down
without wincing?”).
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