Vintage Valentines Day cards that glorify intimate partner violence. [Sociological Images]
Gossip Girl premiered its sixth and final season in the States two weeks ago and it’s being fast-tracked to Fox8 in Australia like so many U.S. shows are these days (I can’t keep up!). While its finale is a long time coming and I’ll always be nostalgic for the good old days of GG (seasons one and four were probably my favourites), I think Gossip Girl has finally lost the plot.
Last season’s finale seemed to juxtapose where all the characters started out with where they might end up, and fans held out hope that the show would return to its soapie-scandalous roots with Dan wreacking revenge on the Upper East Side, Serena being the lost cause that inevitably rears its head at least once per year, and Blair and Chuck teaming up to drag everyone down with them, namely the traitorous Bart and Lily.
Two episodes in and the season’s not starting off as strong as it could have, and Dan’s struggling to avenge the wrongs he feels he’s been handed by his socialite set of former friends and lovers. Partner-in-crime Georgina spent last week’s episode arranging meetings with all the major New York publications—New York, The Nation, Vanity Fair et al—but Dan instead opts to publish his exposé in serial form in Nate’s Spectator, a fledgling newspaper that’s struggling after Nate let the “who is Gossip Girl” scoop go in exchange for finding Serena.
Seriously?! I mean, despite the fact that The Spectator is a new newspaper in a sea of old-media extinctions run by a presumably not-even-21-year-old that relies on unmasking a high school blogger to sell copies, channelling Dominic Dunne, who rose to fame with his Vanity Fair pieces on crime and justice for the rich and famous in the ’80s, Dan is barking up the wrong tree in trying to get “the memoir he should have written” serialised in a magazine, only highlights the show’s irrelevance.
Georgina opines that once they can get a magazine to bite, in will roll the money, fame and movie rights. Um, hello, blogs are where it’s at these days. Look at all the Tumblrs and Twitter accounts that now have books, TV shows and movies based on them: Suri’s Burn Book, Fuck! I’m in my 20s, Shit My Dad Says, The Social Network, Stuff White People Like, The Sartorialist… I could go on forever. We know Dan did the whole book-to-movie deal, Rufus crapped on about “creating a groundswell” by word-of-mouth, and Serena tried her hand at blogging last season, but if Gossip Girl wants to “move on” from high school and debut in the adult world, as Serena so desperately desires, she’d better stop living in the first half of last decade.
Sage, Serena’s boyfriend Steven’s 17-year-old daughter and Nate’s new girlfriend (phew!), perhaps puts it best when she said, “Nobody in high school reads Gossip Girl. It’s for old people.” Or people who just can’t move on from the way things used to be.
Image via YouTube.
The other day a friend asked me how I “prioritise my stack” of books, and I thought it might make an interesting blog post, if only so I can navel-gaze at the books, magazines and articles piling up on my bedside table and bookshelf as opposed to offering any valuable insight into how I get through them.
’Cause the answer is, there is no system to getting through them. If anything, more books, magazines and articles are added to the piles than what is taken away from them and filed neatly in the bookshelf or recycling bin.
My friends often tease me ’cause it usually takes me several months to get through a book. The book I’m currently on, My Sister, My Love: The Intimate Story of Skyler Rampike by Joyce Carol Oates, I started over two months ago! I try to put away a few chapters each night, but this is in addition to the probably 500 other pages of content I read per week. Blogs, magazines, articles. If you ask me, that’s a pretty good effort. I wonder how many of the haters get through a 500 page book per week :P.
My love of taking in anything and everything in the feminist blogosphere is both a blessing and a curse. I love that there’s always new content and I’m always being informed, but at the same time, it would be so easy to just curl up in bed with a good book and turn my brain off for a few hours. Then again, if I really wanted to turn my brain off, I’d carve out a nook in the couch and flick through channels all night. And who has time for that?
Currently in my book stack, I have three books that were gifts from my birthday last year, and winning a worst dressed contest (Fables comic book, The Big Book of Small Business and Self-Publishing for Dummies); three that are borrowed (Walt Disney’s biography by Neal Gabler, Russell Brand’s second memoir and Kristin Chenoweth’s autobiography); two I bought from Amazon in January (Marilyn Monroe’s Fragments and Sloane Crosley’s second book of essays, How Did You Get This Number?); and the rest (The Night Listener and Maybe the Moon by Armistead Maupin, Brock Lesnar’s Death Clutch, Less Than Zero and Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis, Naomi Wolf’s The Beauty Myth and Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile) I’ve bought in recent months, mostly secondhand.
And the magazines and article stack, which is a complete eyesore on my bedside table, consists of several Vanity Fair’s, some Monthly’s and… to be honest, I don’t actually know what’s in there! When I go on holidays next week, I aim to get through that stack, and it will be a veritable treasure trove! Like Christmas morning!
Seeing as I can offer absolutely no substance to “how do I prioritise my stack”, I’m handing it over to you. Does anyone have any tried and true methods? Here’s one, at the suggestion of my friend Clare: stop buying books til I’ve finished the ones I already have. But they’re too good!
Last week, Alissa Warren on MamaMia listed her top five fictional friends. You know, people you’d be friends with… “if they were real.”
Let me know in the comments who you’d be fictional friends with but, until then, here are my top picks:
Elphaba Thropp, Wicked.
It’s no secret Elphaba is my favourite fictional female: someone you can look up to, who rises above hatred and discrimination, and who will stand up for her beliefs no matter what. Plus, she’s a witch! Galinda wouldn’t be too bad either…
Elle Woods from Legally Blonde.
She’s fun, she’s quirky, she’s got a cute little dog and an awesome wardrobe. And underneath it all, she’s not as ditzy as she seems. Awesome friend material.
Cher Horowitz, Clueless.
Again, someone who seems carefree and Clueless on the outside, but whose heart is in the right place. Maybe she’ll let you come over and program your wardrobe into her computer. Just think of the outfit-planning time you’ll save.
The fictional version of the late Vanity Fair columnist and man about town Dominick Dunne, Gus Bailey, would always give you the inside scoop, and probably feature you in his gossip columns! Anonymously, of course. You’ve got to keep up appearances.
Blair Waldorf/Dan Humphrey, Gossip Girl.
I’m not sure which one I’d like better as, personality-wise, they’re pretty much the same person. They exchange emails and phone calls whilst ploughing through their identical Netflix queues. They enjoy art, foreign films, being “in” with the “in crowd” and bygone eras. You could borrow Blair’s clothes, but Dan’s nice to look at… I can’t choose!
Kat Stratford, 10 Things I Hate About You.
She’s everything I’m not. She’ll shun the prom (but actually ends up going!) due to its patriarchal confines. She’s musical. She loves the riot grrl scene. She ploughs through feminist literature whilst listening to Spiderbait. And she don’t give a rats what anyone thinks of her. Total. Feminist. Icon.
Heather Mooney, Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion.
Anyone who openly tells people they don’t like to “fuck off” is someone I want to get to know! Plus she’s hilarious despite her best efforts to come across as cold and callous.
Scout Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird.
Sure, she’s a little young to be best buds with, but maybe I could be her babysitter?!
Images via Freewebs, IG Style, Abhishek Tiwari, USA Today, TV.com, Inspired Ground, Flickr, The Hero Construction Company.
“If someone calls you a slut, there’s nothing you can say to refute the claim because it never had any cognitive content anyway.
“If you try to argue that you’re not a slut, you’re implicitly buying into the idea that there are sluts out there. If there’s some criterion that will set you free, that standard will indict someone else—someone with a higher ‘number,’ or shorter skirt, or a later curfew. So we get bogged down in slut/non-slut border skirmishes over a line nobody should have tried to draw in the first place, and we all lose.
“Even virginity is not a defense against alleged sluttiness. Virgins can be sluts if they dress the wrong way, walk the wrong way, or even instill the wrong thoughts in other people. Some people will convict you of sluttitude because your body is the wrong shape, or the right shape.”
Sluts just can’t win. That’s why you should (as above) embrace your inner slut and join the SlutWalk next weekend in Melbourne, at the State Library from 1pm. I’ll be blogging more about this throughout next week.
“It is not ‘respectable’ to be black, female, voluptuous, and sexy on a stage for profit, but it is perfectly acceptable to be black, female, muscular, and ‘unsexy’. Is this double standard acceptable? Is one profession truly more sexualized than the other?”
I don’t entirely agree with this hypothesis. I think it’s far more acceptable to be conventionally and femininely sexy, as opposed to muscular and unconventionally masculine. Sure, the video vixen job title isn’t exactly perceived as a classy, “respectable” occupation, but neither is female bodybuilding. Society as a whole would much rather see women shaking what they were born with (or, you know, what the plastic surgeon gave them) than manipulating their bodies via hormones and free weights.
“$150,000 Doesn’t Make You Rich. Discuss.” Okay, I will: I come from a family where my mother stayed home with my sister and I, and my dad worked three jobs at some stages. I was very young then, so I have no idea how much money he brought in. But I can tell you, it sure as hell wasn’t $150,000, and we struggled to keep our heads above water week-to-week. We never had savings, we could never go on family holidays that required much travel because we couldn’t afford flights or accommodation. I missed out on all but one of my seven cousins’ weddings because we couldn’t make it interstate. My parents have only bought two houses in their lifetime: the other nine we resided in throughout my lifetime were rentals. I also don’t know how much my dad makes now, but it is a lot less than $100,000, and my mum’s on a pension. In my opinion, $150,000 a year is rich.
“Opposition leader Tony Abbott says the Government is punishing ‘aspiration and hard work’,” with the new middle class welfare breaks. Is working three jobs and hardly being able to see your family not hard work, Mr. Abbott?
Texas’ “10 Hottest Female Sex Offenders”. “No doubt that 4-year-old boy, that 2-year-old boy and that 13-year-old girl are taking solace even as we speak that at least they were abused, molested and assaulted by a hot person.”
Gay/straight chicken: when straight men insult homosexuality and “gay men insult women”.
“Is Kate Hudson Coasting on Cuteness?” My money is on “yes”. When was the last time she starred in a box-office smash, or was nominated for an award other than a Razzie?
Images via Jezebel, Fashion Fame.
And for any preggo Scarlett Women out there, this one’s also for you: “What You NEVER, Not in a Million Years, Expect When You’re Expecting”.
Dodai Stewart discovers the benefits of jeggings.
In the wake of St. Kilda’s most recent sex scandal (Ricky Nixon and the same underage girl who released damaging nude photos of St. Kilda players Nick Riewoldt and Nick Dal Santo in December, for those of you who have been under a rock the last week or so), Hawthorn’s Lance Franklin has released a sexist line of t-shirts.
Also with the St. Kilda Schoolgirl Scandal, Round 2, Mia Freedman writes:
“… I think it’s extremely interesting how she is indeed redressing the power imbalance between a 17-year-old girl and high profile AFL players and managers. She’s using social media and traditional media in ways that have been both surprising and disturbing to watch.”
For all the single ladies (put your hands up!), “10 More Reasons You’re Not Married”, which include such gems as “you’re not good enough at fellatio or you’re too good at fellatio,” “you are too fat or too skinny” and “you want children too much and/or not enough”. It seems we can’t (or can) win.
Jenna Sauers attends a Fashion Week PETA party and “talks about animals with Tim Gunn”. Interesting stuff.
Are Lady Gaga and Rihanna really original, or “stealing other artists’ work”?
Are you a fan of kangaroo meat? Read this; it might change your mind:
“Like the seal trade, it’s brutal, but it happens away from our view, at night in the bush. According to the law, adult kangaroos should be killed by a single shot to the brain. But in reality, many are injured in the neck or the body, and flee into the bush where they die slowly and painfully.
“What’s even less known is the terrible fate of joeys, just like the one Ray waded into turbulent flood waters to save: over a million a year are killed each year along with their mothers. How? The hunter stomps on the pouch joey’s head, or bludgeons him or her with a metal pipe. This is enough to make you think twice about ever putting roo on the menu. The young outside the pouch are shot through the heart or head.”
Images via Romantic Dreaming, Juciytings.
From “Marilyn & Her Monsters” by Sam Kashner, in the November 2010 issue of Vanity Fair:
“Several photographs taken of Marilyn earlier in her life—the ones she especially liked—show her reading. Eve Arnold photographed her for Esquire magazine in a playground in Amagansett reading James Joyce’s Ulysses [above]. Alfred Eisenstaedt photographed her, for Life, at home, dressed in white slacks and a black top, curled up on her sofa, reading in front of a shelf of books [which forms the cover for Fragments]—her personal library, which would grow to 400 volumes. In another photograph, she’s on a pulled-out sofa bed reading the poetry of Heinrich Heine.
“If some photographers thought it was funny to pose the world’s most famously voluptuous ‘dumb blonde’ with a book—James Joyce! Heinrich Heine!—it wasn’t a joke to her. In these newly discovered diary entries and poems [which make up the bulk of Fragments], Marilyn reveals a young woman for whom writing and poetry were lifelines, the ways and means to discover who she was and to sort through her often tumultuous emotional life. And books were a refuge and a companion for Marilyn during her bouts of insomnia.”
Related: All Eyes on Marilyn.