To poo poo or not to poo poo: Julia Gillard and Toy Story 3

Two recent incidents have caused vast outpourings of joy: Julia Gillard's ascension to the top job, and the release of Toy Story 3! Online media moves so quickly that while many were convulsing with joy, the party poopers made their move. Reading some of the insightful 'wetblanketry' caused me to have an attack of the Carrie Bradshaw's: I couldn't help but wonder - when it is appropriate to poo poo remarkable deeds?

Firstly to Ms Gillard -- the mainstream media devoted the kind of attention not seen since a major disaster, and the bloggosphere went into overdrive at the news that we had our first female PM. While so many women wept with joy (myself included!) there were others advising caution. Shakira Hussein at Crikey pointed out that several countries have had a female leader who hadn't done much to alleviate the suffering of their own gender -- that many struggles still exist for women in Australia, and we can't believe they're over just because we have a female PM. Helen Razer, writing at ABC's The Drum jumped on the 'party pooper' bandwagon: '[Julia Gillard] was never pointed toward the detonation of any glass ceilings. She set out, she said, to "keep my feet on the floor". And there her feet remained throughout the 90s as she was knocked back for ALP pre-selection three times. That they have now elevated her to the country's top job is, of course, testament not only to her tenacity but to feminism's gains. But, this doesn't give us ladies license to bang on like the epilogue to Sex and the City. First, it's just unseemly. Second, as any sensible woman should know, it's perilous to declare one's self satisfied.'

We may not need to pour water over it all just yet -- Gillard herself stated in an interview with the Herald Sun, no less, that she's interested in a variety of women's issues including female commodification in the media and the rise of raunch culture, violence against women, sexual assault, equal pay and representation in corridors of power such as parliament and corporate boardrooms. Given that she was also a founding member of the group Emily's List (a 'financial, political and personal support network for the election of progressive Labor women candidates') we may even be able to expect some positive changes for women in the not too distant future. We may, as Catherine Deveny pointed out '[be able] to have this moment.' Phew!

And as for Toy Story 3 - I defy you to see this movie and not enjoy it. It's visually stunning, comically voiced and plays with solid themes about the power of imagination, the need to remain flexible to change and the importance of friendship. I just loved it, and then I read this: Natalie Wilson at Ms.blog pointed out that it ain't too strong on the female character front. Wilson asserts that too few of the new toys are female, that Bo Peep seems to have gone missing, and that Mrs Potato Head, Barbie and Jesse the Cowgirl are only empowered in the opening moments of the film -- which is set in Andy's imagination anyway. But what's the big deal, right? It's only one cartoon! Let's not get carried away. Well, Wilson argues that most of the Pixar films are centred around the fellas: 'Wall-E, A Bug’s Life, Cars, Monsters Inc, The Incredibles.' And from that list, she kinda has a point. But what about other animation houses? Do they do it any better? Not so, according to actress Geena Davis, who has an Institute on Gender and Media and who recently spoke to the United Nations on the representation of women in children's media.

Her research indicates that in children's cartoons, TV shows and movies, there is only one female character to every three male characters -- one to five in large group scenes. According to the analysis, when female characters are depicted, they 'tended to be over-sexualized with a narrow scope of character traits.' Barbie, anyone? Davis insists that: 'if we have such devaluing and disempowering images from the first media that children consume, it sets the table and enculturates another generation of children into seeing women and children of a lesser status than boys and men.' Oh jeez -- can't I just enjoy Woody and Buzz? Must I poo poo? I guess the answer is unfortunately, yes. But the solution may lie with the example set by our current PM: we need to establish an Emily's list to increase female representation in the the media! Who's with me?

This Book Made Me Pea-Green With Envy

Most of us read Harper Lee's seminal novel To Kill a Mockingbird as young people. It moved us. We railed against small town intolerance and were thrilled when Atticus Finch stepped up to tackle prejudice and fight for freedom. The way Atticus explains discrimination to his children serves to reinforce the baselessness of racism and we vowed to be inclusive in our dealings with people from minorities.

Craig Silvey's much publicised second novel Jasper Jones transplants these ideas to a fictional Western Australian town in 1965. The plucky young protagonist, Charlie Bucktin, has read Harper Lee and Mark Twain and constantly endeavours to apply these lessons to the dreadful event he witnesses with the town's outcast Jasper Jones. 'What would Atticus do?'

Jasper Jones inspired many emotions within me -- the chief one being envy. I'm bitter that someone could have crafted such a simple, perfect novel, I'm jealous of the wonderful friendship that exists between Charlie Bucktin and his best friend Jeffrey Lu, (their dialogue is so sparkling, so full of wit and love it just about makes you want to cry), I covet the wonderful metaphors dotted throughout the novel -- the most important being who is the braver of the superheros Batman or Superman? Superman has superpowers and need only be afraid of Kryptonite, but Batman has no special ability and needs to summon human courage in order to save the day. Indeed, Charlie must learn overcome his mortal fears and muster the nerve to face life's challenges and see the truth. I yearn for the sweetness and naivety of the affection that blossoms between Charlie and his first love. (I'm aware that I'm talking about the characters in the novel as if they are real, and not a construct of the author, but that's the green-eyed-monster inducing genius of Craig Silvey -- he writes each of the characters with almost as many flaws as strengths and makes you feel as if you really know them!) But the thing I envy most of all, is that one of you might find the novel and will get to discover it all for the first time.

Hope Has Returned

My eyes are simmering with tears. My heart is full of joy. It's difficult to find sufficient adjectives to articulate exactly what I'm feeling. Just when it seemed as though all was lost -- something to believe in. To celebrate. Regardless of your political persuasions, all would agree it is a momentous day in Australian political history. We have a female Prime Minister. Julia Gillard herself said in her recent press conference that she did not begin her political career to smash through any glass ceiling, but regardless of whether this is her aim -- she has made a giant leap forward for all of us. And now our first female Prime Minister makes her way towards Government House to be sworn in by Australia's first female Governor General. We have hope. As Christopher Reeve once said: 'Once you choose hope, anything's possible.'

Wed-Mania

It is a truth universally acknowledged that people take you for a ride when it comes to weddings. The very word ‘wedding’ cannot be said in public without a nearby cash register sounding off with a ‘cha ching’. You are vulnerable. You want to put on a good show. Vendors know this and they exploit it. Let’s start with the frock. You make appointments at the big shops to try things on to get a sense of what looks good on you. (All of the bridal mags suggest this as a first step. Ladies, they are in on the conspiracy.) Then you find one. It costs nearly $5000. It makes you cry when you try it on. You come out of the change room and your mother chimes in with the water works and it is all over. The sales assistant is mentally tallying up her commission and spending the money as we speak.

But NO! You’re a smart girl. This is too much money! This is silly. You’re not even changing your name, for Christ’s sake. You walk away. It’s like you’ve been torn from your child. But you push ahead. You valiantly attend bridal clearance sales where they make you wait outside with a number, coz last year two crazy bitches ended up in fisticuffs OVER A DRESS. You bravely try on things that might be nice if they weren’t stained, torn, rumpled, and covered in some other woman’s makeup You try to visualise what the dress will look like if all of these things could be fixed. But the other dress MADE YOU CRY, and so you leave. They’ve got you over a barrel. You may not have spent your whole life planning this day, but you now have a very specific idea about what you would like to look like AND IT ALL REVOLVES AROUND THAT *&$%#@^% DRESS!

If you get really stuck, a quick Internet search will reveal that you can buy a gown based on your favourite Disney Princess. I am not kidding. The people who created the concept need to reinforce that this is your ‘princess moment’, your ‘happy every after’ where a dashing prince will draw his sword and ride away with you into the sunset where you will live in the woods at one with nature. It’s crap like this that spins the average Australian wedding into the $50,000 plus-bridezilla-out-of-control-category. But back to Disney Bridal; Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Belle, Jasmine, Ariel and Giselle all make an appearance, each with their distinctive style. (I’ll let Jezebel rip this to shreds for you, but I’m a big fan of the way they’ve used a blonde model for Cinderella, but the Jasmine girl is dark and exotic. Ugh.) Incidentally, the Jasmine collection is described thus: ‘A new world awaits Jasmine as she follows her heart and finds true love. Here, fairy tale wishes take flight and happily ever after becomes the greatest adventure.
This enchanting collection reflects Jasmine’s bohemian spirit. Gowns drape in chiffon and satin. Exotic details include clustered beadwork, appliqué lace and just a touch of wanderlust.’ They know that we’re adults, right?

Then there are the things you never knew you needed. Take the Facebook ads for companies looking to cash in on the information you’ve revealed in your status updates. (Thanks for those privacy settings!) At the time of writing, the: ‘Shape Clinic’s Bridal Rejuvenation Facial Treatment – book your treatment now to make sure you look your best on your wedding day!’ is making an appearance. As is the Myer Bridal Gift Registry. The best one is 'Boudoir Image: Vintage French inspired sensual art for your home'. Apparently, as a gift for my future husband on our wedding day, I have to go and have a photo session costing big bucks where I strip off and pose like a 70s porn star in a barn in some inner Sydney suburb. When do I give him this gift? On the morning of our wedding with the bridal party standing around? Where will we display these photos? This is out of control! Can’t I just get him a wallet? And thus – the tone of our wedding hath been set!

Emotional Eating

You know how sometimes, you think you are in for one kind of experience, and you end up completely diverted through no fault of your own? Like when you went to someone else’s house as a child and you thought you were getting Vegemite, but it was actually Promite and it was so, so wrong? You’d happily existed on this earth without ever having run into Promite, but your friend insisted that it was just as popular in other countries and was essentially the same thing and you just didn’t know what to believe in any more?

This happened to me a few years ago when I picked up the book Skinny Bitch by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin – ‘A no-nonsense, tough love guide for savvy girls who want to stop eating crap and start looking fabulous.’ I’d had a pretty indulgent Christmas and was vulnerable at the airport, killing time in their overpriced bookshop. I was attracted to the deceptive Chick Lit drawing on the front and thought: ‘That’s me! I’m savvy! I want to look fabulous! This sounds like fun!’ What I got was a dossier on the horrors of the food industry that read like Mein Kampf for Veganism and 'pure' eating. I was railroaded into being at the very least a vegetarian as they yelled things at me like: ‘Coffee is for pussies’ (ok, I see where you’re going with this) and ‘Suck your mother’s tits. Go on. Suck your mother’s tits’ (now dairy is out) and ‘You are a total moron if you think the Atkins diet will make you thin.’ (This came from a chapter entitled the ‘Dead, Rotting, Decomposing Flesh Diet'.) Rory and Kim achieved their aim – they conned me into reading their book and made one more person a vegetarian. This lasted about 3 years. I was doing well and then started to waver. I blame bacon. It smells fabulous and that’s nothing compared with the salty, salty goodness that enchants your taste buds when you eat it. My friends devoured in front of me while I was trying to make do with avocado and tomato on toast. I hadn’t yet faltered, but I was teetering on the brink. So I prayed for a sign, and I got one while watching Ellen one day. It was all innocuous stuff. Ellen was jokin’, Ellen was dancin’ with the ladies and then Ellen was interviewin’ Jonathan Safran Foer about his book Eating Animals. The usually fictional writer had just had a baby boy and wanted to be more informed about what he was feeding his kid. He went a huntin’ for information about meat and how it gets to our plate. He was so sweet! So knowledgeable! But importantly, since he too had shilly-shallied in his vegetarianism, he wouldn't yell at me.

So I read the book. And I cried like a child who’s just found out that Santa isn’t real. The way he describes how a factory farmed animal lives and dies would break the heart of the most hardened carnivore, and then comes the information about the correlation between diseases and meat, environmental destruction and meat, species extinction and meat…you get the idea. What’s great about this book, however is that Safran Foer thoroughly examines each perspective, searching for answers. He interviews activists, hobby farmers, factory farmers, vegetarian ranchers, slaughterhouse employees and many others. He’s not trying to blame anyone, he’s just working out what to feed his family. And so I’m back on the path. And like James Brown, I feel good. It was just the diversion I needed.

Waste Not - Want Not

I was slumped on the couch the other night watching MasterChef, frowning about a few things -- the way George Calombaris eats, (Please George -- there is a camera on you. Lips meet when we eat!) the amount of crying, (it's not Cook or Die, people) and what happens to all of the leftover food? On many cooking and lifestyle shows, the crew are famous for wolfing down each dish as soon as the director yells ‘cut’! But what happens when they’ve made five of Gary’s Beef Wellingtons? And one of them don’t look so great? (Not that I can get all Judgy McJudgerton on MasterChef – I’m always throwing out wilted celery purchased in good faith, that could now be tied in a bow.) I needn’t have wasted my energy on those down-turned smile muscles, as MasterChef have teamed up with OzHarvest to distribute the leftover food to the needy. Cool, hey? Ronni Kahn established the organisation after working in the food industry, and lamenting the amount of wasted product. OzHarvest (and many other similar charities) had to work with governments to amend legislation to allow them to do their good work, and as long as a few conditions are met, it’s win win for everyone concerned. I’m glad that MasterChef is ahead of public opinion on this one, so that I can get back to furrowing my brow every time George puts some food near his lips.

The Terrors of Technology

Who doesn’t love an inappropriate status update? We all have a ‘friend’ on Facebook who's status we'd rather avoid. They might be the constant complainer: ‘Jane is soooooo over this morning sickness. Today, I thought I was going to barf up my ring.’ The over-achiever: ‘Jane is jetting off to Switzerland to give a presentation to the UN on human rights and woke up 3 kilos lighter. Yay for me!’ Or the criminal: ‘Jane - YOU ARE SUCH A FOUL BITCH. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK COZ I’M GONNA KICK YOUR HEAD IN, BISCUIT TIN FACE.’ (I sanitized that last one for you, as the original contained a lot of swearwords that started with ‘f’ and ‘c’ and actually named the girl that she threatened to beat up.)

But whilst their lack of tact/awareness/sensitivity might be mildly annoying – imagine you are a teenager trying to navigate technology! Childhood is hard enough without the net or mobile phones adding the extra layer of anonymity and distance that allows bullying to be particularly insidious. (Check out Formspring, where you can anonymously ask questions on people’s profiles – e.g. ‘Why are you such a slut?) The writer never has to engage with the ramifications of their comments.

Hortense (a Jezebel regular) tries to lighten things up for us. She wonders how several iconic teen movies would change amongst today’s technology? I started to panic about my favourite teen movie The Breakfast Club -- would the stereotypes even make it to detention? Andrew Clarke (the jock) would video himself taping the kid’s buns together, upload it on to youtube, and would be arrested instead. Claire (the princess) wouldn’t have cut class to go shopping, she could sneakily check out net-a-porter.com on her iPad and no one would be any the wiser. Brian Johnson (the geek) needn't take shop to get an easy grade and fail his elephant lamp task – he could attend any number of software design classes instead and really excel. Allison (the freak) who doesn't have anything better to do could stay at home and play Second Life. But, I truly believe that John Bender (the criminal) would still set off that fire alarm and that means I can fantasize that it’s just him and me at detention and I can give him one of my earrings to wear as a memento. Maybe this new version ain’t so bad after all!

Bright Side: The Sex and the City 2 Experience

Create a film like Sex and the City 2 and there will be consequences. They range from the HBO-branded-tie-in-underwear you can buy at Target, (Look! You can be just like Carrie underneath your Sportsgirl top!) an increase in alcohol sales in bars surrounding theatres (many have made deals with their closest Multiplex. Show your ticket for a $10 Cosmopolitan!) and some fabulous reviews. Some are thigh-thumpingly amazing. I've tried to steer away from reading ones that are unkind about physical appearance - where's the sisterhood in that? But there is some great writing about the representation of motherhood, sex, minorities, and the Middle East that's really worth reading. Why is this so great? Many of the women who are flocking to this movie, eager for their glitzy escapism, will know in the backs of their minds that all is not right here. 'What could all of those people be upset about?'

Well, Lindy West at Seattle's The Stranger is concerned that: 'SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human...and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car.' While famed film reviewer Roger Ebert highlights just how shallow these woman have become: 'Their defining quality is consuming things. They gobble food, fashion, houses, husbands, children, vitamins and freebies.' Wajahat Ali, writing at Film Salon derides the film as: 'cinematic Viagra for Western cultural imperialists'. Mel Campbell (at Crikey) attended an Australian premiere and noted the: 'desperation of the various brands involved to one-up each other in the product-placement stakes.'

On the flip side, Erika K, the blogger behind The Feminista Files, is boycotting the film, but wants it to make money. Why? 'Because if it doesn't Hollywood will say female-centric movies -- which never cost nearly as much as action flicks -- don't make economic sense and they'll stop greenlighting them...' What to do then?
We can hope that all of the attention on this film will force us to question how women, motherhood and minorities are represented in other media sites...or maybe, just maybe some female sitting in a darkened Hoyts might think to herself: Gee, this doesn't really speak to my life experience, maybe I should try to seek out a film that's more about what I'm going through?...Maybe I should demand that one of those is made?...Maybe I should write it myself!

Mad Addiction

Like many who raced through series 1 to 3 of Mad Men, I need little drips of information about the show while waiting for season 4 to start. Hey, I have an addiction and it needs to be fed. Luckily, there's Tom and Lorenzo. They constantly update their Mad Style analysis of each of the female characters and have just uploaded their Joan, Betty and Peggy series. The depth of their dissection is truly astounding; they examine the general style of the character, how she dresses in crucial scenes and the way that this articulates many of the series' themes. It's truly amazing work and goes far beyond a general gush about the fabulous costumes. Now...where can I get my next fix?

Gripped by Monkey Grip

I'm three quarters through this remarkable novel by Australian literary giant, Helen Garner. Set in 1970s Melbourne, it charts the sporadic interactions between a group of fringe-dwelling, drug-addled, boundary- pushing bohemians as they endeavour to confront traditional systems of family, relationships, money and sex. All of this frontier-battling invariably leads to much confusion; the protagonist Nora strives to live free of monogamy, yet desires to be loved above all things. Her relationship with the actor/junkie Javo is the monkey grip that will not loosen. What is particularly compelling is the way that the women fight for sexual freedom, yet continue to bear the brunt of contraception and child-rearing. One wonders how much has changed? Some have lauded Garner's stream of consciousness style, and others have dismissed the work as a published diary. (Garner based much of Monkey Grip on her own diaries, many of which she sadly burned in the 1980s.) But her fluid prose, dream descriptions and veracious account of a younger Melbourne have left this reader haunted and wanting more. (And also wishing I was a member of a book club so that I could hear some other opinions!)