Women who LIKE other women don’t need to be catty bitches.

15 Nov

 

Here we go with the bitches be bitchy argument again, this time in the Daily Mail.  Half of the 2,000 women polled by online retailer Swimwear 365 said they ‘enjoy’ comparing themselves to women they work with, befriend or pass in the street.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2232842/Women-spend-time-checking-OTHER-WOMEN-men-clothes-figures-hair-interested-in.html#ixzz2CI59lEKR

Comparing what, exactly?  Oh this:

1. Clothes

2. Hair style

3. Tan

4. Size

5. Cleavage

6. Cellulite

7. Hair colour

8. Boob size

9. Shoes

10. Bag

The fact that HALF of the women say the “enjoy” comparing themselves on the basis of superficial bullshit is fairly disturbing, but unsurprising.  You can bet that most of this comparison finds the other woman coming off as a slag, all of which rests on the assumption that women are competitors.  Competing against each other for the attentions and affections of men, and to a certain extent, that’s true.

Giving a shit about what kind of bag you carry in the hopes that some man will fall into a swoon at your feet is a ridiculous misunderstanding of what men care about, and a gigantic waste of money and resources.  It’s just a way for women to flash their status to one another, and in the process, take other women down a notch or two (or remind themselves they need to step up their game).

Women who truly love other women don’t notice these things.  They are much more interested in what other women think, what they feel, what they’re reading, how they felt watching Daniel Craig shirtless in Skyfall, how they are holding up under (insert problem here) and did you notice that gorgeous sunset last night?  Also, do we need more wine?

PrincessPixiePointless and JudgyBitch have been best friends for 20 years.  During that time, I have noticed that Pixie is a wee little thing, although she wears some crazy high shoes so I’m not exactly sure just HOW wee she is.  I notice when she wears clothes (which isn’t always the case) but I could not describe for you with any reliability what her wardrobe contains.  I am always quick to tell her when she looks gorgeous (which is always), but I don’t generally notice or give a shit what she’s wearing.

Except for those awful saggy pants.  Jesus those are terrible.  See?  Even then, my interest in Pixie’s clothes is to keep her from looking TERRIBLE.  There is no delight in seeing her prance down to the pub looking like she’s got a giant pillow stuffed up her arse.  And if she REALLY likes those pants and wants to keep them, then good on ya, Pixie!  But they’re really terrible.

Hair style, tan, hair colour, cellulite?  What the fuck?  Who cares?  When Pixie and I head to the pub, we don’t give two fucks about our hair (even when we should) because we are there to enjoy each other’s company and try to figure out exactly what Caitlin Moran means when she says she’s a “feminist”.  We’re there to sit quietly and read “The Clever Woman in the House”.  We’re there to laugh at the most recent idiocy in the New Statesman and when other women join us, we point out the super stupid bits and order more wine.

Even when we were single and on the prowl, Pixie and I went through life as partners.  Friends – there to protect each other from bad decisions (http://judgybitch.com/2012/10/22/54/), celebrate our triumphs, mourn our losses, find neat books to read, watch terrible movies together, eat the whole wheel of Brie and plan the next steps forward.

Maybe it’s because the two of us realized something other women with their tans and hair and fancy bags don’t get:  at the end of the day men don’t give a shit about those things.  How you look is a passport to life, that is undeniably true.  We do younger women no favours by telling them it’s okay to cram your face with cupcakes and waddle through life swathed in trackpants and t-shirts.  Go ahead and do that, if you like, but understand there are few men who find that attractive.

Here’s a beautiful man who knows what really matters in a woman:

 

Mark Grist on Girls who read

 

Ladies, stop wasting so much time tearing each other down.  Get out of the tanning bed, stop shopping for a bag and pick up a book.  And if you find a really great poem, read it to your friend.  No matter what her hair looks like at the moment.

Lots of love,

JB

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