I don't know why I am surprised by this, and I don't even know if I should be disappointed by it. But why is Barack Obama judged on what he does and his wife is judged on what she wears? This story in the New York Times is being cute and using political language to describe the "bi-partisan" support she received for her sartorial choices during her husband's inauguration.
The same happened for Therese Rein when Kevin Rudd was elected Prime Minister here. Therese (and I love, love, love you for keeping your name) copped a drubbing for fashion choices. Never mind that she is in her own right a very successful business woman (who earns much more than her husband) and is an accomplished person and mother. The only thing people seem to care to have an opinion about is if she's chosen the right colour.
There's nothing wrong with enjoying fashion and getting gussied up, but do people need to take it so seriously.
I would so love someone (and another first lady fashion plate who probably has the chutzpah to do it is Carla Bruni-Sarkozy) to turn up to one of these official engagements in a potato sack. Now that would be something to talk about.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
To love, honour and lose your identity
For Christmas, we received several Christmas cards addressed to Mr & Mrs My Husband's Surname. Only trouble is, they're his parents, not us, because I didn't change my name when we got married.
For me, in my career which I had been cultivating as me for more than 10 years, I felt it made no sense to change my name. Not to mention the fact that I feel very strongly that getting married is a partnership, not a melding of one individual into another.
When I mooted the idea with my husband (a long time before we even got to the idea of marriage), he was vaguely offended by it (despite his protestations). He's a modern guy, not a sexist bone in his body and yet this idea was confronting to him. I suggested he change his name to mine, which he found down right preposterous and I said to him "now you know how I feel!".
Obviously I got my way or we would have remained unmarried, I can assure you.
It felt to me natural that in the wake of the third wave of feminism I, and probably most of my peers, would keep their names if and when we tied the knot.
So imagine my surprise when I have found myself in a minority of married friends who have kept their names.
Why have they changed their names, I wonder. I try not to judge, but I can't help but feel it's a really dumb thing to do. My friends who have changed their names are smart, independent, career orientated, educated women. So why do they feel as though their identity isn't as important as their husbands'?
I know they probably don't think about it in those terms, but it is something that really puzzles me and I find quite anti feminist.
I've got a lot more to write about this subject, but I have to go and be a modern housewife now, so I will pick up this thread later.
For me, in my career which I had been cultivating as me for more than 10 years, I felt it made no sense to change my name. Not to mention the fact that I feel very strongly that getting married is a partnership, not a melding of one individual into another.
When I mooted the idea with my husband (a long time before we even got to the idea of marriage), he was vaguely offended by it (despite his protestations). He's a modern guy, not a sexist bone in his body and yet this idea was confronting to him. I suggested he change his name to mine, which he found down right preposterous and I said to him "now you know how I feel!".
Obviously I got my way or we would have remained unmarried, I can assure you.
It felt to me natural that in the wake of the third wave of feminism I, and probably most of my peers, would keep their names if and when we tied the knot.
So imagine my surprise when I have found myself in a minority of married friends who have kept their names.
Why have they changed their names, I wonder. I try not to judge, but I can't help but feel it's a really dumb thing to do. My friends who have changed their names are smart, independent, career orientated, educated women. So why do they feel as though their identity isn't as important as their husbands'?
I know they probably don't think about it in those terms, but it is something that really puzzles me and I find quite anti feminist.
I've got a lot more to write about this subject, but I have to go and be a modern housewife now, so I will pick up this thread later.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Hey fatty boomsticks, why haven't you lost all your baby weight in a month?
I don't know about you, but I saw this on the Sydney Morning Herald website the other day and it made me want to throw my computer out the window.
The story is about how Naomi Watts miraculously lost all her baby weight in a month. What a thing to aspire to. I don't blame Watts for saying she lost the weight through breast feeding.
Good for her, it works for some people. BUT WHY IS THIS REPORTED ON???? IN THE SYDNEY MORNING HERALD no less.
I don't know why I am surprised. The SMH website is a different beast to the old timey broadsheet people read for actual news.
Here are the things I think are wrong with this:
1. It's not a story, much less something you flag on the home page of a NEWS site.
2. It's wonderful that 40-year-old Watts had a healthy baby and looks fantastic, but she probably has help with her kids and is able to rest much more than a normal woman who has just had a baby. Normal women need to remember not to compare themselves with people who have the luxury of nannies and a good night's sleep and a team of professionals assisting them with nutrition and dieting.
3. Someone like Watts, whether she likes it or admits it or not, trades on her looks, and as such investing her not inconsiderable income in its upkeep is something the rest of us don't need to do, or simply can't afford to do in the same way. It really irks me the way people always report on how amazing Elle McPherson looks. Well d'uh, she maintains her chassis like someone who drives for a living would maintain theirs. Only she has millions to maintain it with, unlike those people who drive for a living.
4. What if breast feeding didn't work for you. So while you and the breastfeeding Nazis are beating you up about poisoning your baby with formula, you can add being fat to your list of sins.
Measuring yourself against these standards in unrealistic. I am susceptible to it as anyone else, and it makes me cranky. So let's all just STOP IT, shall we?
Eat good food, rest as much as you can, enjoy your children, be a good person and give yourself a break.
The story is about how Naomi Watts miraculously lost all her baby weight in a month. What a thing to aspire to. I don't blame Watts for saying she lost the weight through breast feeding.
Good for her, it works for some people. BUT WHY IS THIS REPORTED ON???? IN THE SYDNEY MORNING HERALD no less.
I don't know why I am surprised. The SMH website is a different beast to the old timey broadsheet people read for actual news.
Here are the things I think are wrong with this:
1. It's not a story, much less something you flag on the home page of a NEWS site.
2. It's wonderful that 40-year-old Watts had a healthy baby and looks fantastic, but she probably has help with her kids and is able to rest much more than a normal woman who has just had a baby. Normal women need to remember not to compare themselves with people who have the luxury of nannies and a good night's sleep and a team of professionals assisting them with nutrition and dieting.
3. Someone like Watts, whether she likes it or admits it or not, trades on her looks, and as such investing her not inconsiderable income in its upkeep is something the rest of us don't need to do, or simply can't afford to do in the same way. It really irks me the way people always report on how amazing Elle McPherson looks. Well d'uh, she maintains her chassis like someone who drives for a living would maintain theirs. Only she has millions to maintain it with, unlike those people who drive for a living.
4. What if breast feeding didn't work for you. So while you and the breastfeeding Nazis are beating you up about poisoning your baby with formula, you can add being fat to your list of sins.
Measuring yourself against these standards in unrealistic. I am susceptible to it as anyone else, and it makes me cranky. So let's all just STOP IT, shall we?
Eat good food, rest as much as you can, enjoy your children, be a good person and give yourself a break.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Diaries of a yummy mummy.
Hello, this is my first go at the narcissistic world of blogging.
I hope someone, anyone, enjoys reading this, and if not, at least it's cheap therapy for me.
The Modern Housewife's Companion is about my experience as a young mum in Australia in 2009. Obviously my experience is just that, mine, but I have to believe there are other people who share some of these experiences.
It's about how when you've been immersed in a career where you're "someone" and you suddenly become an anonymous "mum".
It's about the terror of making the wrong decision as a parent.
It's about being judged by your peers and anyone else who wants to put their two bob's worth in about how you're doing things.
It's about how our society pays lip service to motherhood and won't put its money where its mouth is.
It's about the enormous guilt you feel when your children don't bring you the complete and utter fulfilment you're always promised.
And it's about the pressure you put on yourself to be that yummy mummy (and I hope you appreciate the irony in the title of this post), who bounces back, does a million things, balances career with family, earns good money, has a great figure, a wonderful husband and a mind-blowing sex life.
So, in short, it's about me having a rant.
I hope someone, anyone, enjoys reading this, and if not, at least it's cheap therapy for me.
The Modern Housewife's Companion is about my experience as a young mum in Australia in 2009. Obviously my experience is just that, mine, but I have to believe there are other people who share some of these experiences.
It's about how when you've been immersed in a career where you're "someone" and you suddenly become an anonymous "mum".
It's about the terror of making the wrong decision as a parent.
It's about being judged by your peers and anyone else who wants to put their two bob's worth in about how you're doing things.
It's about how our society pays lip service to motherhood and won't put its money where its mouth is.
It's about the enormous guilt you feel when your children don't bring you the complete and utter fulfilment you're always promised.
And it's about the pressure you put on yourself to be that yummy mummy (and I hope you appreciate the irony in the title of this post), who bounces back, does a million things, balances career with family, earns good money, has a great figure, a wonderful husband and a mind-blowing sex life.
So, in short, it's about me having a rant.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
