Shouldn’t someone inform Jim that
black just isn’t his color?

I just received (and deleted, heh) an email from Sojourners, urging me to sign up for their Politics and Spirituality conference — with this image attached.

You see, if I go to Pasadena in September, I’m cool like Jim Wallis, Anne Lammot, and whoever that other guy is. C’mon. All the cool kids are doing it. Don’t you want to be cool, too?

While I have no intention to attend this conference (even though it could potentially be interesting), the peer-pressure mode of advertising reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to ponder: Coolness and belonging. What IS the in crowd? What does it mean to be part of it?

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This one’s from Larc:

Your Geek Profile:

Academic Geekiness: Highest Music Geekiness: Highest Internet Geekiness: High Geekiness in Love: Moderate Movie Geekiness: Low Fashion Geekiness: None Gamer Geekiness: None General Geekiness: None SciFi Geekiness: None

“Geekiness in Love” could have been higher, if I’d been willing to select “consider a good IM conversation a first date.” While a good IM conversation is a great start, it is *not* a date. To me, dates are meeting face-to-face. But, since I certainly have used IM as an initial means of contact, um…yeah, I’m a geek.

To add another geeky area, I had to — simply had to — change the background colors from the grays. They clashed with my blog.

At the Happy Feminist, worth reading: On Being Created in God’s Own Image

Beautiful. I need to remind myself of this often, in both my dealings with myself and with others.

Go Fug Yourself is one of my favorite guilty pleasures. I mean, c’mon…I’m not a fashionista (although I tried really hard in high school, as some highly-embarassing 1980s-era photos will attest), but some of GFY’s photos show people who beg to be mocked. I’m not above a little mockery. So sue me.

Hugo recently posted about the LA Times’ article on the “Sausage-Casing Girls” (ie, “what was she thinking?!?”). Many of us opined what drives women to criticize and critique others’ clothing choices (and whether it’s acceptable for us to do so — isn’t feminism about choice, after all?). Today, at GFY, Jessica gave one pretty plausible explanation: for the love of god, people…stop making us uncomfortable!

In fact, it reminds me of something I once read on the subject of etiquette, which was that rules for social behavior don’t exist to control people, but rather to make everyone feel comfortable. I think we’ve all been in a situation where, say, you’re eating a cheeseburger at Hamburger Habit and the sun is shining and the birds are singing and the boy you like called you and your skinny jeans fit and all is right in the world. And you look at the table across from you, and a woman is sitting there in too tight low-rise jeans and SERIOUSLY? You can see her entire butt and thong. And I guarantee you what happens next: every girl at your table reaches back to make sure that her own derriere hasn’t made a break for it, everyone then quietly wonders if she can’t feel the draft, and then everyone can’t stop looking at her thong, but not in a hot way. In, like, a “should I TELL her that her thong is hanging out, or is she doing that on purpose?” kind of way. And then she leaves and everyone is relived.

So save us some social angst, ladies who like to flash your panties on purpose, and cut it out. Because of you, none of us know whether or not the girl at Hamburger Habit is thonging it up on purpose or not, and therefore, we are unable to decide if it would be sisterly to hand her a sweater to tie around her waist, or if that would insult her. And all we really wanted was a cheeseburger.

On a side note, the “British Pakistani Celebrity” in question is absolutely stunning, fashion choices aside. But seriously, if she really had to wear that dress, why put white panties on under it? Red for contrast, perhaps. Black for a nice blend. Nude to evoke the “does she, or doesn’t she?” question. But white? I’m perplexed.

Up at Feministe, Oh, No! My Boyfriend’s Fat!
Zuzu talks about a columnist’s advice to a woman who finds her boyfriend’s body a bit of a turn-off:

What I like about Cary’s advice in this case is this: he recognizes that she’s being honest, and he gives her an honest answer — which includes a reminder that fat people are quite aware that we’re fat.
…
And I also like that he tells her to forgive herself and not judge herself for not being attracted to fat men. This is something I feel pretty strongly about — if you’re not attracted to fat people, you’re not (of course, that’s not the same as acting as if fat people are stupid, or disgusting, or what have you merely for existing).

In the wake of last week’s email dumping, I blubbered and cried, and generally got freaked out for a bit. To be clear (again), it wasn’t losing the guy that was the issue. He has every right to be attracted to whatever attracts him, and at least took the time to understand himself and cut loose rather than wasting my time. The real big deal was that his email made me realize *I* had the same issue with myself: ie, I wasn’t attracted to me.

This is a problem, but getting that out in the open (to myself) has already made a huge difference. I shopped last Friday, and purchased clothing that looks good on me *now* — a duh-factor moment, but something I’d been resisting, as I didn’t want to buy clothing that “I’d only wear for a few months anyway.” Hey, at the rate things are going, it could be a few months. It could also be a few years. Why not look fabulous in the meantime? (FWIW, I’ve dropped 4-5 pounds in the two weeks since returning to Effexor. What was that about stress and weight gain? This is partly about self-medicating with ice cream, but not even close to entirely.)

Back to Feministe: I’m pleased to see that people are treating this woman humanely. Seeing her reaction (she came and commented on the thread) to commenters’ words was enlightening for me, too. It’s not that she wants to not be attracted to her boyfriend’s (fat) body. It just is. She’s mature enough to realize that her guy has a lot going for him and to honestly look at whether the fat is a deal-breaker. Good for her, whatever choice she makes.

BabyTalk, a pretty mainstream mag, has a breastfeeding infant on the cover of its August issue!

Here’s a bit of the cover article:

You’ve heard it by now: A mom should breastfeed her baby for at least the first year of life, as recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics. Today, more new moms than ever try to nurse. In 2004, the most recent year for which government statistics are available, about 70 percent of U.S. mothers reported that they had tried breastfeeding, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). That’s up from 55 percent in 1993.

But then consider this: At 6 months, only 36 percent were still nursing. At 12 months, the number dips to 17 percent — fewer than one in five mothers. While moms know that breastfeeding gives babies the best start in life, legions of them find it difficult — if not downright impossible — to nurse longer than six months, let alone up to the one-year milestone.

You can read the rest on their site here.

According to an article from Yahoo News, not everyone was as thrilled as I am to see this magazine cover:

NEW YORK – “I was SHOCKED to see a giant breast on the cover of your magazine,” one person wrote. “I immediately turned the magazine face down,” wrote another. “Gross,” said a third.

These readers weren’t complaining about a sexually explicit cover, but rather one of a baby nursing, on a wholesome parenting magazine — yet another sign that Americans are squeamish over the sight of a nursing breast, even as breast-feeding itself gains greater support from the government and medical community.

As if nursing isn’t wholesome? Harumph. I don’t get BabyTalk anymore (I let my free subscription run out, since Maya’s no longer an infant), but will shoot them a note of encouragement.

I (heart) my DVR. Because of it, I rarely watch any advertising. Last night, however, as the second back-to-back episode of House ended, I didn’t fast forward, and an ad caught my attention.

Scene: Family weekend outing. Everyone is smiling, laughing, and enjoying their time around town. It’s your basic no-one-is-that-happy-and-beautiful family that you’d expect from Madison Avenue. The kids glow. The mom is pretty and thin. The dad is clean-cut, fit, and attractive.

The Ford Freestyle (their ad, of course) pulls into a driveway, and the dad gets out of the car.

“Thanks for inviting me along, guys!”

“We’ll see you next Saturday, Dad!”

My head cocked to the side. Arrrroooo? (rewind, rewatch)

Well, what do you know, a divorced family. A divorced family with a healthy relationship, no less. Who knew? It was one of those rare moments when I found an ad impressive.