এই এপিসোড সম্বন্ধে
Why do we treat femininity like evidence that someone shouldn't be taken seriously?
In this episode of Let's Complicate It, I'm unpacking my own complicated relationship with femininity—and the ways I've learned to associate being feminine with being frivolous, superficial, or less intellectually serious.
From long sparkly nails and makeup to Taylor Swift, romance novels, Sailor Moon, and "girl talk," I explore why interests coded as feminine so often begin with the presumption that they're less meaningful than their masculine counterparts. Why is getting a manicure frivolous, while knowing everything about fantasy football is just a hobby? Why does a woman who loves fashion seem vapid, while a man who knows everything about his car seems knowledgeable? And why does a woman being both highly feminine and powerful still register as a contradiction?
Along the way, I bring in Simone de Beauvoir and Luce Irigaray, reflections from my dissertation research on gender non-binary identity, the "pick me girl" phenomenon, and cultural examples ranging from Dolly Parton and Taylor Swift to Buffy Summers and Sailor Moon. I also look back at my own relationship with makeup, clothing, beauty rituals, and the subtle pride I've sometimes taken in distancing myself from femininity.
Because maybe the answer isn't proving that feminine things aren't frivolous. Maybe we're allowed to be frivolous sometimes. Pleasure doesn't have to make us smarter, healthier, more productive, or more enlightened in order to be worthwhile.
I'm not necessarily interested in becoming more feminine. I'm interested in having a better relationship with femininity—and making sure that when something feminine isn't for me, it's because I don't like it, not because I've learned to see it as lesser. That's the distinction you ultimately arrive at when you talk about your nails, clothing, and even the fact that you simply don't particularly like pink.
Because femininity doesn't have to be redeemed.
It was never the problem in the first place.
