You don’t need to have written an Honours thesis on Vida Goldstein’s contribution to first-wave feminism to know child beauty pageants are unnatural.

Six year olds plucked, shaved, injected and waxed, sprayed orange and sent out looking like mini drag queens so their parents can feel better about their own accumulation of failures. Really, how can any decent person see this as anything other than insanity? Let alone exploitation.

Descendants from Planet Barbie believe you can never be too young to embrace stereotypes about female beauty. No amount of hairspray is too much. No pout is too pouty. No pose is too contrived. For them there is only one type of physical beauty and it’s heading our way in July.

Actually there is a way to make this whole scene more palatable – all you have to do is turn a blind eye to negative body image, eating disorders, depression, anxiety and low self-esteem. There you go. Book me a front row seat.

You don’t need to have written an Honours thesis on Vida Goldstein’s contribution to first-wave feminism to know child beauty pageants are unnatural.

Six year olds plucked, shaved, injected and waxed, sprayed orange and sent out looking like mini drag queens so their parents can feel better about their own accumulation of failures. Really, how can any decent person see this as anything other than insanity? Let alone exploitation.

Descendants from Planet Barbie believe you can never be too young to embrace stereotypes about female beauty. No amount of hairspray is too much. No pout is too pouty. No pose is too contrived. For them there is only one type of physical beauty and it’s heading our way in July.

Actually there is a way to make this whole scene more palatable – all you have to do is turn a blind eye to negative body image, eating disorders, depression, anxiety and low self-esteem. There you go. Book me a front row seat.

By the way did you see Pippa Middleton’s maid of honour arse in that white dress the night of the royal wedding? I missed it. I was upstairs exfoliating the dry skin off the balls of my feet.

Not wanting to feel excluded from the mass hysteria I checked it out online. There it was staring at me – an arse in a white dress. Groundbreaking stuff. Life-changing even. Rumour has it her buttocks are in deep contract negotiations for their own chat show, clothing range and fragrance – I can’t wait to spray on some ‘Royal Crack’.

Meanwhile in talkback radio land a caller had whipped herself into a real state of agitation: “Our Prime Minister should either travel alone or as a married woman, not with her livid partner!”

I couldn’t agree more. I wouldn’t want to travel overseas with a livid partner either. We’ve all been there and god it’s boring – the frosty reception you receive as you hand over your complimentary bag of airline nuts, the puckered mouth and the head shaking. Do us all a favour and stay home.

Not to be outdone, another caller followed up with something along the lines of our PM should respect the values of the vast majority of Australians and get married. It’s wrong she’s representing us overseas with her live in partner.

Oh I see, the First Bloke wasn’t livid after all. He was something far more sinister. He was a live–in.

The horror. The horror.

How can we as proud Australians live with ourselves while our leader is gallivanting around the world with her de facto? The shame of it all! How can we as proud Australians embrace a leader who hasn’t picked confetti out of her hair? Or danced that special dance to Bryan Adams?

How will Silvio Berlusconi bring himself to look her in the face at the next G12 meeting?

Hey, read this SMS out on radio: “Throw her in the river and see if she floats.” There’s my contribution to the debate.

Media release – “The Australian Womensport and Recreation Association condemns decision by World Badminton Federation”. Read on.

In a nutshell the sport’s ruling body is making it mandatory for women to wear skirts or dresses, even over shorts, in an attempt to raise the profile of women’s badminton.

Holy shuttlecock why not grease them up and send them out onto court nude. That should fill the stands. Because that’s what it’s all about isn’t it?

Deep sigh… I know I should be grateful. (Another deep sigh.) We’ve got the vote, we’re allowed to drive – occasionally we’re allowed to read a map, in some states we’ve got control over our bodies, we’ve almost got equal pay, we’ve had the debate about normal sized models, it hasn’t gone anywhere but we’ve had the debate, there are about three women on Australian TV over fifty, and most countries have banned stoning.

I know I should be grateful, but you know what, sometimes grateful just doesn’t cut it.


Posted May 24, 04:19 pm in . Permanent link

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