Portrayals of women in Amy Heckerling’s “Clueless”

Clueless is one of the quintessential chick flicks, and as such I have seen it more times than I can count. I have seen it, I would say, more times than I have seen Dirty Dancing, although not quite as many times as I have watched Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail. While for me nothing will ever match the cracking chemistry of 90s Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, I never regret popping Amy Heckerling’s high school masterpiece into the DVD player. Clueless has been there for me through my formative years, through university English courses, through hangovers, but today I repay it by undertaking the somewhat uncomfortable task of dissecting its feminism. How does Clueless - written and directed by a woman, based on a novel by one of the world’s most famous female authors, and proudly fronted by a trio of actresses – actually portray its female characters?

Cher Horowitz (Alicia Silverstone)

The first time we meet Cher, our protagonist, she is using an advanced computer program to choose her outfit for school, and shortly thereafter she displays a very casual attitude towards road laws. She notes that she is named for the glitzy songstress, and reduces the complex issue of Haitian immigration to an analogy involving her wealthy father’s 50th birthday.  Cher loves going to the mall and is overly concerned with social status and choosing the ‘right’ sort of man. Her idea of charity is to help Tai (discussed below) fit in at school. The overwhelming first impression is that Cher Horowitz – the only daughter of a rich Beverly Hills litigator and his wife, who tragically passed away during a “routine liposuction” – is a shallow cipher of a person, representing the worst stereotypes of pretty, upper class blondes. True to the form, she can be extremely annoying and painfully selfish.

Yet Heckerling takes pains to humanise the character of Cher. She is rejected by the guy she is crushing on, and although she plays the popularity game by the rules, her status is surpassed by the self-obsessed Tai’s. While such issues may seem “shallow”, it is interesting that Cher is portrayed as experiencing these high school-sized hardships, despite her privilege. Despite her immaculate appearance, it is also clear that Cher takes pride in her schoolwork (or at least her grades), taking pains to negotiate with each of her teachers and showing her test results to her mother’s portrait. More seriously, she is victimised due to her sex – first she must escape a car to avoid sexual assault by her ride Elton and then she is held up at gunpoint.

It’s quite a statement that Cher, as the main character, is permitted to have significant flaws as well as virtues. From her protagonist status, then, we can see that Clueless accepts and celebrates women as full people, with both virtues and flaws and a diversity of experience, and encourages us to look past first appearances.

Dionne and Tai (Stacey Dash and Brittany Murphy) 

The personalities of Cher’s friends are a little less nuanced than our leading lady but their presence nevertheless adds weight to the film’s portrayal of women as three-dimensional, well-realised people. Much like the friendships in Bridesmaids, the female friendships between Dionne, Tai and Cher are not all positive or all negative: in the discussions about sex, Cher and Dionne’s virginal statuses are a source of shame, and Tai uses this to her cutting advantage later in the film; conversely the friends are almost comically supportive of one another when they, for example, face male rejection. Through Dionne and Tai Clueless shows the audience that the women around us can both provide strength and take it away. Tai’s makeover particularly speaks to the idea that people, particularly women, must not be taken at face value, and that it is important to understand the personality rather than place value on appearances.

Amber (Elisa Donovan)

Amber is a problematic character in that she, along with Tai, mostly serve as the film’s antagonists. Despite the mild inconvenience of Cher’s [male] debate teacher, Clueless seems to imply that women’s biggest problem is other women. This is an idea I take issue with, especially because Amber’s motivations are never explained as lovingly as Cher’s – she simply seems to be a mean girl whose reasons for disliking Cher are never entirely clear. Even Regina George got humanised at the end of her film, and it would have been nice for Amber to be more than just a laughing stock. That said, I do appreciate that Heckerling was able to write a female character as a cartoonish, one-dimensional villain, again showing that women exist outside of the love interest/shrew/madonna/whore pigeonholes.

Miss Geist (Twink Caplan) and Miss Stoeger (Julie Brown)

Finally we come to the teachers Miss Geist and Miss Stoeger, the only substantive female adult characters in the film. Let’s first address Miss Stoeger, as her representation is the most problematic. She is literally a butch man-hating lesbian who teaches P.E., and I actually can’t think of anything more stereotypical. There is nothing in Heckerling’s script that subverts this stereotype or provides her with any further definition – to me, the jokes relating to Miss Stoeger rely purely on her sexuality, which is simply not good enough. (Let’s not forget that Christian, the gay male character, is also stereotypically into fashion and “The Celluloid Closet” classics Spartacus and Some Like It Hot.)

Miss Geist, as a straight woman, is given a broader personality, but her main function in the film is to be the subject of one of Cher and Dionne’s makeovers. The makeover – particularly, the removal of reading glasses to discover that the woman underneath is actually “hot” – is quite the teen film trope but I enjoy that Miss Geist is still awkward afterwards. Her car door still doesn’t open, and even the girls are forced to admit that she “isn’t a total Betty”. Again, the film makes the point that appearance aren’t everything – and just as well, given her suitor’s exterior!

Overall, it is hard to get past the fact that Clueless gets a lot wrong, particularly in its absolution of the male characters and in its use of stereotypes for queer characters. But it also gets a lot right, and for a fun, female-driven film, one could certainly do worse on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

RESULT: Looks like it will be staying in my DVD rotation.

Up next: I’m off next week, but back on June 3. See you then!

On speaking as a woman

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I’m the first to acknowledge that, generally, I have it pretty good. As a white, educated, middle-class, able-bodied, cisgender person I benefit from various privileges of which I do try to keep myself aware. I lead, generally, a comfortable, happy and fulfilling life in a stable home with all the wine and Sabrina, the Teenage Witch dvds I could want. I live in close proximity to a Kmart. It’s pretty sweet.

Which makes what follows sound a bit whingey, I know.

But seriously…

This being a woman business sucks.

There, I said it.

Well, actually, I’ve been kind of saying it for the last year and a half, as I gradually fill can be bitter with my pro-feminist rants and analyses. But what I really want to know – and what the point is of today’s post – is whether anyone has heard me.

For the last few weeks a TED Talk has been making the rounds with the promise that it will turn every man who watches it into a feminist. I’m sure it’s great, but I haven’t watched it because I was immediately turned off when I saw that the speaker was a man. I’m sure he’s a great guy, but at that moment all I could think was:

Why is my voice less valuable than a man’s? 

For real.

I am all for male feminists, and I don’t think they should have to call themselves “allies”. The more people who work together to improve conditions for women and girls, the better, I say. But why does male feminism sound educated, generous and the doorway to a mountain of sex, while mine (and the feminism of women like me) tends to inspire fear and revulsion, when really, nothing separates the message beyond the speaker’s genitals?

When I speak about feminism, this becomes my one defining characteristic. I am painted as a troublemaker, as contrary, as mouthy, a threat. I become, generally, less attractive to men. I find myself restricted in speaking my mind at my workplace for fear of being judged by the people who are in control of my livelihood, or at gatherings for fear of jeopardising my social standing.

When I speak about feminism, I awaken an uncontrollable urge to have people agree with me. For more than being right or having integrity, as a woman I have been conditioned to prioritise being well-liked. The desire to be accepted, therefore, causes me to temper the language I use on can be bitter, and even to avoid topics that I know will be controversial (there’s a reason The West Wing has not yet made an appearance here…).

Conversely, I am always surprised when people actually do agree with me, because I have been conditioned to second-guess myself. Sometimes a post will catch on and I will feel so honoured that people have taken the time to read it and share it with their friends, all the while ignoring the work I put in to actually publish and publicise it. And yet a popular post also terrifies me, because a wider audience means more criticism, and can even paralyse me the next week when I try to replicate my success. Because there is still something unseemly about a woman openly displaying ambition, and because I don’t want the sexist trolling comments that blogs like mine tend to attract. (Contrast with male feminist blogs that get a lot of “THANK YOU, THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER READ” comments from women.)

Ultimately, I feel like the fact that I have a vagina negates a lot of what I have to say – not just for a lot of my potential audience, but for myself. Self-confidence in women is not encouraged (think back to “wearing the pants”, or “bitch”) but  internalised self-doubt is, and I now hide my still-controversial views behind a computer screen. Whereas if I had a penis these same views would earn me congratulations, even though my number one achievement is, really, just being a decent human being.

Speaking as a woman is hard. It’s hard to find the courage to do it, hard to believe your own words, hard to believe they are any good, and harder still to stand by them in the face of criticism. Not all women bloggers have this problem, of course, and I’m sure male bloggers can’t all be brimming with confidence in their work but nevertheless… it’s difficult for me and I don’t doubt for a second that there are a disproportionate number of women like me out there who are also finding it difficult.

It sucks, but hey, thanks for listening.

RESULT: I think, clearly, that if male feminists can more readily get mainstream traction than female ones, that’s pretty sexist.

Up next: Portrayals of women in Amy Heckerling’s Clueless

P.S. Please check out the 60th Down Under Feminists Carnival for a great round-up of AU/NZ feminist writing for the month of April.

P.P.S. I wrote a thing that is currently appearing over at Feminspire: On Coming Out of the (Feminist) Closet. Please have a look!

Relationship phrases we should probably retire

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I suppose it is human nature to compare our relationship (or lack thereof) to that of the people around us. Actually, it probably isn’t human nature, but rather a combination of societal factors that imbues us with a sense of competitiveness that brings us to make these comparisons, but nevertheless, they are pretty much inescapable. Almost every couple believes that no one has ever been as much in love as they are, that no one has felt these feelings as strongly as they do, that no one else can possibly understand their partner as well as they understand their little stud muffin (or muffinette).

But while the act of comparison may be difficult to avoid in an environment that encourages us to “win” at weddings, dating and PDA, some people are not content with thinking that they have the best relationship ever but feel the need to criticise the ones they consider inferior. I get it, I love to judge people too (although I am trying to do it less), but don’t you think everyone would be better off if we stopped saying things like:

“Wearing the pants”

In a straight couple, a woman who appears to wield a lot of power over her mate is often said to be “wearing the pants” in the relationship. It can be said lovingly (as when my parents insist that my sister “wears the pants” in her home), or meant as an insult (for example, when said sneeringly behind the target’s back). In all cases, however, it refers to a woman who possesses what is perceived to be an inappropriate amount of power in her relationship, simply by reason of her sex.

The phrase draws on the concept that pants are solely menswear. For a woman to wear the pants, then, is for her to be subverting gender roles. Worse, the idea that there is only one pair of pants to go around (consider the singular used in the expression) implies that the man in the relationship isn’t wearing any – that they have been stolen from him. He, in return, must be wearing the skirt, or dress, or something equally feminine. For a woman to “wear the pants”, then, damages and humiliates both parties – and the sexes they represent.

The phrase, then, is hopelessly outdated. We have generally, as a society, accepted that men and women can and should be equal partners in modern relationships. These days, it’s ok for the female partner to have power in her relationship, and in most cases, this will have been agreed to, encouraged, supplemented and valued by her egalitarian male partner. That is to say, in modern straight relationships there can be more than one pair of pants.

I mean, if France can finally get its act together and let Parisian women wear pants on the regular without being snarky about it, so can we.

“Whipped”

If a powerful female partner in a straight relationship “wears the pants”, her boyfriend is often considered to be “whipped”. But it doesn’t refer to physical assault (thankfully!), rather, it is a shortened form of “pussywhipped”. A pussywhipped man tends to be at his lover’s beck and call, defers to her, is stereotypically unable to make his own decisions, and sometimes even just consults his girlfriend as an equal partner in their relationship… the threshold for “whipped” status is pretty low.

Ignoring, as we have just discussed, the fact that men and women who are party to a relationship might actually agree to and be happy  with the balance of power between them, whether or not that balance is in line with traditional gender roles, the term is quite crass. It reduces the faceless girlfriend/wife/whatever in question to her sex organs, and implies that those sex organs are dangerous (to men, both personally and between friends). The term implies a suspicion of female sexuality that has been present throughout much of history, yet which we had hoped to have moved on from by the 21st century. It also discounts the fact that the “whipped” man is likely in love with his partner’s whole person - hence, you know, actually bothering to date/marry her, instead of any other vagina-bearing mammal – therefore painting an unfairly simplified picture of male (hetero)sexuality.

“You are so lucky to be with…” 

Now, I feel like I’ve mentioned this before, but I couldn’t find it in the archives (yes, I have archives) so I apologise if it sounds familiar. Maybe I just went on a rant about it in real life, maybe I was, I don’t know. What I do know is that I hate it when people say, usually to men, that “You are so lucky to be with [your woman friend]. She is stunning and thoughtful and generous and perfect — I don’t know what she sees in you”. Sometimes it is the woman’s friend trying to be “protective”, or sometimes it’s the dude’s mates trying to make the woman feel welcome.

Unlike the first two examples, “You are so lucky she’s with you” generally comes from a good place but again, I don’t think it’s really appropriate for the advancement of gender relations in 2013. While it is a type of superficial compliment (I mean, who doesn’t want to be thought of as pretty and generous and amazing?), the speaker is in reality unwittingly insulting both parties to the couple. The first insult is quite clear – the “lucky” partner has no good qualities that would attract a mate. The second is less obvious but no less damaging, as it tells the “perfect” partner that they are, essentially, an idiot for choosing a mate who has no redeeming qualities. Or worse, it implies that it is only the “lucky” partner (usually a man) who has the agency to chose a partner, while the “perfect” one is nothing but a trophy to be won, a prize somehow plucked off a shelf with no say in the matter.

I do realise that this list mostly applies to heterosexual relationships. Couples in same-sex relationships are obviously subject to a whole other set of expectations (apparently some ignoramuses still ask lesbian couples “Which one of you is the man?” Um, neither?) which are not really considered by this piece but don’t think I’ve forgotten you! I think there’s definitely room for a follow up here and I’d love to hear from singles and couples (and more) of all sexualities what stupid but well-meaning phrases they have been subject to. Please let me know in the comments!

RESULT: The French have been on a roll. First pants, then they also got same-sex marriage. Are you going to let yourselves be beaten by those cheese eating surrender monkeys??

Up next: On speaking as a woman

P.S.: Not long left to vote for me in the Best Australian Blogs 2013 Competition – People’s Choice Award!

It’s super simple to vote and only takes about 30 seconds. You just need to:
- click this link
- press “next’
- find “can be bitter” on the first page
- check the box
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Voting is open until 5pm Tuesday April 30 AEST (i.e. TODAY!). Thank you so much!

Please share the link with any other can be bitter fans out there – you don’t have to be Australian to vote, so no excuses!

Songs I Listen To While Running #3: “Bad Reputation”, Joan Jett

I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that if one were to draw a Venn diagram of my blog audience and people who care about my running progress, the overlapping bit in the middle would be very, very small. Nevertheless, those three people will probably be happy to know that I survived my first ever “fun run” and just made the poor decision to register for another one. While I’m not 100% sure I will be able to make the extended difference, it would seem that at the very least, my appetite for punishment should mean more entries in the Songs I Listen To While Running series, thus vindicating my decision to number them (the Bitter Debates on the other hand… hmm).

Getting back to the topic at hand, “Bad Reputation” is an interesting song to run to. While the beat is too fast for my feet to actually move in time with it, Joan Jett’s pure badass energy keeps me pumped until I find something more my pace. Well, that, and the feminism, because there’s nothing like a bit of militancy to keep your speed up:

The title of the song is taken from its opening line, which is repeated as a refrain throughout: “I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation”. From the outset then, Ms Jett’s first solo single (released in 1980) establishes itself and the artist as overtly rejecting society’s outmoded expectations of women.

What has earnt Jett her “Bad Reputation” is tantalisingly vague from the lyrics we are given. Jett sings that “a girl can do what she wants to do/And that’s what I’m going to do”. From her mention of ‘girl’, we can infer that Jett has likely transgressed society’s standards specifically by reason of her being a woman, and acting against what would therefore be deemed acceptable for a member of her sex. For a start, we can infer that a standard she has breached is allowing herself to choose what she wants to do – independent action being something that had long been denied women. By signalling that she is driven by her own desires, rather than trying to suppress them or allowing them to be dictated by others, Jett is proudly establishing her autonomy and agency – a feat made more impressive in the face of others’ disapproval.

Jett then goes on to say that “I’m only doing good/When I’m having fun”. Through this, it becomes apparent that Jett is being especially transgressive because she dares to enjoy herself. Given that women are often expected to be selfless and to put others first, it is refreshing, especially for 1980, to see a female artist unapologetically seeking her own pleasure and satisfaction. Further, as a “bad reputation” often connotes a woman’s perceived promiscuity, we may conclude that the “fun” Jett is having is sexual in nature. As slut-shaming is an issue women are still dealing with in 2013, Joan Jett’s hedonism was and remains a powerful feminist statement.

However, Jett’s reason for not giving “a damn” about what people think of her independence and agency is somewhat bleak: “The world’s in trouble/There’s no communication/And everyone can say/What they wanna say/And it never gets better anyway”. It almost sounds as if she has embraced her outcast status because there is nothing that will change it. While it is quite brave to reject the security of societal acceptance, that this rejection is a permanent state of affairs is not the most heartening message for feminists who find themselves making enemies in their quest to make the world a more egalitarian place. While Jett’s reasoning may encourage who have already pissed off people to keep fighting the good fight – after all, what do they have left to lose – it may also deter others from taking the first step.

But all is not lost. While Jett does complain that a bad reputation is permanent in one verse, she spends two mentioning that her audience is “living in the past/It’s a new generation”. Therefore, while Jett has accepted that the naysayers will never change their minds about her, it seems she believes that attitudes towards women are changing. Her repetition of this point makes it twice as encouraging.

“Bad Reputation”, then, is more than just a fast-paced song that lends itself well to sprinting and/or fist pumping (although it is also that!). It is a feminist anthem that celebrates the right of women to run their own lives and seek their own pleasure, while also warning those who would constrain women’s freedom that their time is ending. And that’s worth giving a damn about.

RESULT: “Bad Reputation” quite literally rocks.

Up next: Relationship phrases we should probably retire

P.S.: Not long left to vote for me in the Best Australian Blogs 2013 Competition – People’s Choice Award!

It’s super simple to vote and only takes about 30 seconds. You just need to:
- click this link
- press “next’
- find “can be bitter” on the first page
- check the box
- press “next” a few times
- enter a name and email address
- press “done” on the final page

Voting is open until 5pm April 30. Thank you so much!

Please share the link with any other can be bitter fans out there – you don’t have to be Australian to vote, so no excuses!

Can we please stop comparing rape to mugging?

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Trigger warning for discussion of sexual assault and rape.

I subscribe to a lot of feministy-type things that appear in my Facebook news feed, and it always warms my heart to see them fighting the good fight. Something pops up from time to time are stories aimed at men that try to highlight the difficulty women face in reporting sexual assault. One such story is as follows:

Man: Hello, I’d like to report a mugging.

Officer: A mugging, eh? Where did it take place?

Man: I was walking by 21st and Dundritch Street and a man pulled out a gun and said, “Give me all your money.”

Officer: And did you?

Man: Yes, I co-operated.

Officer: So you willingly gave the man your money without fighting back, calling for help or trying to escape?

Man: Well, yes, but I was terrified. I thought he was going to kill me!

Officer: Mmm. But you did co-operate with him. And I’ve been informed that you’re quite a philanthropist, too.

Man: I give to charity, yes.

Officer: So you like to give money away. You make a habit of giving money away.

Man: What does that have to do with this situation?

Officer: You knowingly walked down Dundritch Street in your suit when everyone knows you like to give away money, and then you didn’t fight back. It sounds like you gave money to someone, but now you’re having after-donation regret. Tell me, do you really want to ruin his life because of your mistake?

Man: This is ridiculous!

Officer: This is a rape analogy. This is what women face every single day when they try to bring their rapists to justice.

I’ve also seen it distilled to a simple banner-friendly slogan (held, obviously, by a dude): “If I got mugged, no one would ask me if I was wearing an expensive suit. (Think about it.)”

I know that these comparisons are coming from a good place, and initially I even gave them my valuable “like” (for nothing is as valuable as the can be bitter seal of approval, obvs). But upon reflection, not only is the “rape = mugging” metaphor inaccurate, but it might even stand to further harm victims of rape.

There are a couple of important distinctions between a mugging and a sexual assault that make the comparison insulting. Firstly, in a classical mugging, all that is taken from the victim is personal property. While a victim may keenly feel the loss of their wallet or their valuables, ultimately, what is taken is largely replaceable and sometimes even covered by insurance. “It’s only money”, we often assure someone who has been mugged. Sometimes we even allow that the mugger “probably needs it more than you”.

By contrast, nothing is “taken” in a rape, and the motivation for the crime is completely different. Someone’s property is not taken to enrich someone else. Instead, the victim is invaded bodily, the perpetrator getting his kicks and asserting his power through physical dominance, manipulation and penetration of the victim. Clearly, it is not a mere property crime, and to equate the violation of a woman’s body with a stolen credit card is patently offensive.

Secondly, the mugger-as-rapist analogy perpetuates the myth that rape is necessarily “stranger rape”, thus denying the reality that most sexual assaults are committed by someone known to the victim. In the popular example, a mugging happens on a dodgy city street to a random passer-by. While this does largely capture the randomness of stranger rape and pleasingly does not blame these victims in any way, the mugging example is sadly far from the truth for the vast majority of rape survivors. Far from being random, opportunistic crimes, something like 80% of sexual assaults are “acquaintance rape”.

This means that around 4 in 5 rapes happen to women trying to end an otherwise pleasant date or makeout session, women who just aren’t in the mood to have sex with their frisky husbands, women who are coerced into sleeping with their boss, women who have been deliberately plied with alcohol in order to become a more submissive, less conscious penis receptacle – women who for whatever reason have not given free and full consent, a fact which is deliberately ignored (and even relished) by her rapist. These rapes are not addressed in any way by the street mugging example, therefore further reinforcing the notion (held by both rape victims and society at large) that acquaintance rape is not “real”.

The mugging example also doesn’t sit well with me because the hypothetical (male) survivors of the mugging seems to be fine once he has been robbed. He calmly goes to the police station and tries to report the crime, not affected in any other way. The mugger disappears, while the mugged victim does not doubt himself (“maybe I really wanted to give him all my stuff?”), and he is not confused after the crime when he, e.g. needs to take out his wallet to pay for something in a store at some point in the future. By contrast, a rape survivor is still expected to navigate sex (i.e. recreate the physical aspect of what happened to her) and dating after her rape. She may have to interact with the man who raped her (and his friends will probably insist to all of hers that he’s a “nice guy” who would “never do that”). She will second guess herself, questioning whether she sent out the wrong “signals”, and cursing that final drink. In each case, the rapist is afforded a doubt the mugger never is, while the victim is blamed and questioned by all around her.

To equate a mugging with rape tends to lead to the conclusion that the speaker believes mugging for men is as bad as rape for women. Not only are we likely doing damage by letting men believe that a rape is only as bad as losing a few hundred bucks (and forgetting, oh yeah, that women can be mugged too), it’s an insult to sexual assault survivors and quite simply, it needs to stop.

RESULT: Really.

P.S. I have announcements! 

ANNOUNCEMENT 1: I know you love can be bitter (and can be bitter loves you back!) so it would make me so happy if you voted for me in the Best Australian Blogs 2013 Competition – People’s Choice Award!

It’s super simple to vote, you just need to:
- click this link
- press “next’
- find “can be bitter” on the first page
- check the box
- press “next” a few times
- enter a name and email address
- press “done” on the final page

Voting is open until 5pm April 30. It only takes about 30 seconds to do, so if you start now it will be over before you know it! Thanks!

Please share the link with any other can be bitter fans out there – you don’t have to be Australian to vote, so no excuses!

ANNOUNCEMENT 2: It’s Down Under Feminist Blog Carnival time again! You can find an amazing collection of AU/NZ feminist writing from March over at Bluebec, including a little of yours truly.

ANNOUNCEMENT 3: A friendly reminder to like can be bitter on Facebook.

Up next: Songs I Listen To While Running #3: “Bad Reputation”, Joan Jett

Is ‘Love Song Dedications’ the queerest place on mainstream radio?

Mainstream radio in this country has become a pretty unfriendly place for women of late. First, you’ve got 2Day/Fox FM’s “Vile” Kyle Sandilands, who in 2009 asked a 14 year old girl whether her rape at 12 was “the only [sexual] experience you’ve had“, and in 2011 referred to a female journalist as “some fat slag” for daring to criticise his new tv show, warning her on-air to “watch your mouth, girl, or I’ll hunt you down“. Last year, Alan Jones unintentionally inspired a new Australian feminist movement when he claimed on 2GB that “women are destroying the joint” and just last week, John Laws of the Super Radio Network asked a woman who had been the victim of repeated and sustained child sexual abuse whether it had been her “fault” and if she had been “provocative”. (Don’t even get me started. You can sign this petition though.)

However, if you tune into Mix FM (101.1 in Melbourne, 106.5 in Sydney) after 9pm most nights, you may find that you have stumbled upon an astoundingly more progressive area of radio. Or at least you might if you overthink things like I do. For you have come across Love Song Dedications with Richard Mercer, three hours of programming that mixes the schmaltziest of ballads with the most sincere (and hilarious) declarations of love this side of the Herald Sun Love Book (oh, international readers. This post makes no sense to you, does it?). For example, I will forever remember the guy who dedicated Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” to his girlfriend “who I haven’t seen in a few weeks”… and then also asked to “give a shout out to my other girlfriend”.

The caller later admitted that this might have something do with why he hadn’t seen the first one in a while.

Anyway, the basic premise of Love Song Dedications (similarly, I’m sure, to many programs like it around the globe) is that people call in or email to request a special song for their beloved with a few words about why that person is the most amazing/dedicated/beautiful/stalked person on the planet. Richard “The Love God” Mercer is the husky-voiced, dulcet-toned host with the most who listens to each tale with an empathetic ear and replies with a never-condescending tongue.

Including Mercer’s unique attitude to the program, I find that many factors combine to make Love Song Dedications one of the most progressive and queerest spaces on mainstream radio. For a show that deals almost exclusively in 90s Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men hits, that probably seems like a big claim to make, but hear me out.

1. All callers must choose a song from the Mix playlist, which caters almost exclusively to women. This privileging of women’s tastes indicates Mix’s respect for their female audience.

2. That these female-preferred songs are also dedicated to callers’ male partners  further asserts that Miz’s playlist is applicable to its whole audience, i.e. that its female audience is not merely a subset of a broader (male) group.

3. There is a super-high level of queer representation on the program. I would estimate that approximately one in four callers dedicate a song to a same-sex paramour, providing a previously unseen level of mainstream recognition of queer love.

4. This includes a high lesbian representation, making Love Song Dedications one of the sole mainstream spaces that shows these relationships in a romantic light, rather than in a pornified, oversexualised or otherwise stereotyped way.

5. Richard treats his queer callers with the same high level of attention and respect as he does the straight requesters, therefore acknowledging their equality and legitimacy.

6. Admittedly, he treats every caller this way, including this one lady who had met “the love of her life”… the builder renovating her house. The builder was refusing to enter into a relationship because his dog had just died. However, while Richard was soothing and said all the right things, he did manage to warn the woman off buying the builder a new dog. By contrast, Richard does not attempt to counsel other callers simply by reason of them being queer, again asserting the legitimacy of these relationships.

Love Song Dedications has long been one of my guilty pleasures. But when I think about it, perhaps it needn’t be so guilty after all.

RESULT: Not going to lie, I’m listening to it now.

Up next: Next week I’m taking a much-needed break for Easter. can be bitter will be back on April 8 15 (just found out I have an assignment due, dammit).

Bitterness by request: What got us into feminism

This post is for my dear friend Phili, who sent me this link two weeks ago and asked me to write my own piece on what got me interested in feminism.

While I don’t think there was ever really one big defining moment for me, I do particularly remember an English class in year 10, probably towards the start of the year (at this time I would have been about 14). In this class, the (male) English teacher disapprovingly told us that the whole message of Grease is that you should slut yourself up to get a man. The whole class was shocked, and I can still remember vehemently disagreeing with him (most likely only in my mind). After all, Danny puts on the letterman jacket to attract Sandy! That totally makes the film not sexist… right?

But the teacher didn’t stop there. He was my English teacher for two years, and in that time he put us through a fairly intensive course of text analysis. He made us write interpretations of Paul Kelly’s How to Make Gravy and Bruce Springsteen’s Thunder Road, and encouraged us to see feminist readings of even the most seemingly insignificant things (a Bacardi ad comes to mind). My English teacher chose offbeat material for us to study so we would form our own opinions and asked us to challenge established views of more mainstream texts. His active involvement in my education (and that of several of my close friends) dominates my memories of the latter part of my high schooling and I’m certain this blog wouldn’t exist without his inspiring methods.

My other main influence, as much as it pains me to admit it, is probably my mother and father. I am the eldest of two daughters born to religious, lower middle class, increasingly conservative parents. Despite their questionable “battler” politics, they did manage bring us up in a fairly openly feminist household. My mother proudly told us that in the 80s she was the first female manager at her workplace, and spoke of the difficulty she had in deciding whether to take my father’s name. My father, for his part, did not steer us towards traditionally “girly” pursuits – despite our impressive Barbie collection – instead introducing me to Lego, LucasArts adventure games on our terribly slow PC (that was running Windows 3.1, if you can believe it) and taking us for bike rides around the neighbourhood. Further, Mum and Dad always told us that we were loved, that we were smart, and that we could do anything we set our mind to. My parents wanted me to become a lawyer (and indeed, I did end up getting a law degree); they still do not push me to get married or have children. Even though I was brought up in the Lutheran church which has pretty some traditional ideas about the role of women, my parents never let me believe that I was somehow different, or less, just because I am a girl. They taught me to respect myself, my mind and my independence, and I suppose that with an upbringing like that, it would not have taken much effort from my English teacher to get me interested in feminism. After all, I’d been talking about feminist issues all my life, just not for grades!

I admit that my feminism comes from a relatively privileged place. I have been supported by the people around me for as long as I have been alive, I went to a good school, and then I went to a good university. Although my parents are not well off, I have never experienced poverty. I was lucky that my interest was aroused for positive reasons, not because something terribly discriminatory happened to me or someone I knew. But what about you? Do you identify as a feminist? Is there a specific text or moment that you remember as inspiring your interest? Please let me know in the comments!

Up next: Is ‘Love Song Dedications’ the queerest place on mainstream radio?

P.S.  Many thanks, too, to Samma who said today that reading this blog is what inspired her to become interested in feminism. ♥ You can find Samma’s lovely comment on my Facebook page. Please go over there and give me a “like”, or tick the box over there >>> so you can leave me lovely/thoughtful/misc comments too!