In the 101 top-grossing family films…from 1990 to 2004, of the over 4,000 characters in these films, 75% overall were male, 83% of characters in crowds were male, 83% of narrators were male, and 72% of speaking were male. When the American Psychological Association commented on this research, they said, ‘This gross under-representation of women or girls in films with family-friendly content reflects a missed opportunity to present a broad spectrum of girls and women in roles that are non-sexualised.’
Natasha Walter, Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism, pages 69-70, 2010. (via bitemebeautiful)
Bringing this back as people have started reblogging this again and EVERYONE SHOULD KNOW THIS.
Rowling wrote Hermione to eschew stereotypes. She doesn’t end up with the hero; she is never there to function as Harry’s love interest. She prefers Arithmancy to Divination in school. Hermione is also a total badass, despite her prim and proper reputation. (…) So often, female characters are allowed to be aggressive or rebellious, but in exchange are stripped of any traditionally feminine qualities and instead are forced to pick up traditionally masculine traits. However, Hermione is never made to do that. Most notably, she is written to be highly logical AND emotionally expressive, a combination not commonly afforded to most of today’s leading ladies.
How stripping off to play Helen of Troy on the London stage changed the way I feel about my body
It’s October. It’s dusk. It’s the second week of rehearsals for The Trojan Women, a modern version of Euripides’ tragedy in which I’m greedily playing three different roles: Cassandra, the…
oh god. costumes for the show are skin tight, lycra, nude coloured catsuits.
dramaturgically they are perfect and work so I am of course in full support of them, but holy shit, I am also terrified. that shit is gonna show every lump, bump, curve and crevice on my stupid body.
I know it’s not important and blah blah blah, and fuck the expectations of society for women to have barbie bodies, but mother of god, that doesn’t eradicate nearly 20 years of conditioning being told by society that your body isn’t good enough and the incredible fear that brings when considering that all the other girls in the company are thinner, taller and more toned than I am.
Tumblr makes me feel terrible about my body image.
Partly because I’m probably following the wrong blogs (you know the ones, girl with long flowy hair down to her breasts, in a killer effortless but totally weather impractical outfit, swaying in a sunset lit meadow of lavender…), but also because so so so many of the images and things on here are regurgitated press and media images of women- models, actors, singers, etc- all of which look pristine, and size 6, and toned, and proportioned, and beautiful/sexy as fuck.
You can tell yourself you don’t believe it, and that it’s just ridiculous objectification of women in play once more, but if you see enough of something, over and over and over again, and realise that you are so, so far from that, then you feel pretty fucking shit about yourself.
Durex UK posted this on their Facebook page on Wednesday, with the caption “Poor woman…(or maybe lucky one)?”
Maybe I’ve had a complete sense of humour failure, rendering me with a complete inability to see a picture of an injured women with plasters on her face as anything but a woman…
There is too much pressure to be the image of perfection that is expected of women in the western society.
I am sorry, but I don’t have the time, patience, money or fucking genes to be able to have the body that you splash on your magazine covers, dress your models in and take pretty pictures of for flickr and tumblr.
My tummy sticks out at the bottom a bit, if I don’t sit up straight there are rolls, my bum is pretty sizeable, my thighs are not slender and firm but kind of curvy and would definitely wobble a little if I went for a run in short shorts, and yes- I have big ass Mediterranean hips. I am by no means obese, but I am not the body type that I see everywhere around me in images.
And yet, despite acceptance, despite this knowledge, there is the part inside me that is terrified of gaining even a kilo now that I’m living a student lifestyle with student funds (ie- none) again.
I am absolutely disgusted by the state of her body. She looks like a sick giraffe. Or just a twig that’s about to snap. I actually can’t appreciate anything that’s on her for being so nauseated by the fact that the fashion industry allows (nay, ENCOURAGES) women to look this thin and carcass like. Look at her knees. And the scary thing is, I’m sure there will be some that argue she is positively fat by model standards. What. The. Fuck.
Twenty-Something in London.
Performer, theatre maker, sometimes writer, accidental teacher and purple lover.
Have an MA in Advanced Theatre Practice from Central School of Speech and Drama.
Mostly unemployed.
Will tell amusing stories for money.
