I don't feel a pressing desire to "prove" to myself or anyone else that I won't change, that I won't compromise anything, because at some point I'm sure I will. (Isn't compromise a big part marriage, after all?) But I'm also certain that while bits of my identity are bound to shift, just as I would expect them to with any big life change and new perspective, the core of who I am will remain the same. No new name, white dress, ring on my finger or any other traditional convention is going to change that. For better or worse, I am who I am and I'm pretty solid in my identity. So when I read a column in the Guardian recently by Abigail Gliddon, a woman who claims "when a woman takes her husband's name, she surrenders her former identity and adopts his," I wondered how she came to have such low expectations for other women.
Men fix cars, figure out credit card bills and hook up the TV. Is it sexist to want a guy for that? "When I was in college I bought my first car... Normally this was a task that I would have heaped on my dad’s shoulders; after all, Dads are the people you turn to in times of vehicular crisis. Mine wasn’t there, so I went at alone." Later her boyfriend helps her deal with debt collectors. Does it make you a bad woman or anti-feminist to want a man to do certain things for you?
A "womyn's land" is a lesbian-only commune. These clusters are notoriously small (sometimes with only 2 members), and have sprouted up all over rural parts of America since the 1970s. In some communes, men aren't allowed on the premises at all, but with most they can come and visit. The same rules apply for straight or bisexual women. This brand of old school lesbian has proven to be too rigid for modern day feminists. Younger women don't want to be boxed in and find the man hating hypocritical.
You know you might be a candidate for Dating A Banker Anonymous if you've suffered any of the following: a. Your Bergdorf's allowance has been halved. b. Bottle service has all but disappeared from your life. c. You depend on your boyfriend for the above indulgences. Such is the premise of the support group and blog that two ex-girlfriends of Wall Street types started after the market—and then their relationships—plunged. When they noticed other women complaining about the enhanced thriftiness, neediness and emotional instability of their banker boyfriends, they decided the girlfriends (dare we call them gold diggers?) needed some newfound support of their own. At informal meetings over cocktails, groups of twentysomething women gather to lament their downtrodden or unemployed I-banking men.
A new study shows Mr. Fix-It is a dying breed: London's Daily Mail reports the younger generation of men is less handy around the house. Tsk, tsk. Guess this means men are only good for sex. Kidding! In a study of 3,000 men, among those under age 40, almost 33% didn't know how to unblock a sink, 25% did not know how to change a fuse, and 7% couldn't change a lightbulb. Over-40 men proved to be much more handy (except for when it comes to assembling flat-pack furniture, which we guess means IKEA). Of course, the survey was on a home improvement web site, which has a vested interest in selling products to bumbling Mr. Fix-Its. But in any case, who needs men to unblock the sink for you? We women can do those things, of course (see: Martha Stewart, This Old House, Domino magazine, Extreme Makeover: Home Addition) and the reality is that if we are single and living alone, or suddenly become widowed or divorced, we'll have no choice but to care for our home ourselves. Being dependent on a man to do household improvements that might get your hands dirty is so not 2008. Whether she's single, dating or married, a girl's got to have her own toolkit and know how to use it!
Amid all the bluster about "foreign policy experience" and "abstinence-only education," there's been one meme missing. Thankfully, the UK's Daily Mail picks up the slack by asking: Would your guy bone Sarah Palin? Even if your feminist bone is the size of your pinky finger, it's hard not to be offended by such sexist drivel as this: