Feminity and Feminism

Okay, since my blog is up and running, I figured I'd throw up a somewhat non-political post (meaning I won't cross-post at Kos).

So Amanda Marcotte (ht to my Mom) was discussing whether atheists should be "angry" or "friendly," a topic that really holds no interest for me (although I'm really not against atheists yelling at crazy Christians, if they're so inclined). But I was interested in this:

Different styles make sense to different people, and the more diversity in your movement, the more ears you get. Riot Grrrls captured the imagination of would-be feminists who weren't so much into the power suits-style feminism or the hippie-feminism of the 70s, and that's a good thing.

Being of the Riot Grrrls generation, I really related to this insight. And not because I was anything like the Riot Grrrls - I really wasn't - but because my generation of feminists was the first generation who could really be who we were and didn't have to conform to a feminist stereotype. You could be an athlete (which I was) and like makeup (which I did and still do). You could be sexy and be intelligent, without some kind of one-for-one offset. You could be a tomboy, a girly-girl or both. And this was critical, but not just because diversity expanded the movement (although it certainly did). I think the diversification of feminism - represented by the Riot Grrrls - was imperative, feminism couldn't have survived without it.

In my opinion, the great pop culture touchstone for post-Riot Grrrl feminism was the many female characters created by Joss Whedon. Of course, there's the iconic Buffy, the cheerleader-turned-vampire-slayer, who was at once girly, tough, smart, sexy and vulnerable, without even a hint that one aspect diminished the other or that some choice had to be made.

Whedon continued this exploration of feminism with the four female leads of Firefly and Serenity. There was Kaylee Frye, a naturally gifted and dedicated mechanic who clearly reveled in her girliness (the hand-painted flowers in her bunk, the pink, ruffled dress); Kaylee was also notably sexually open and unashamed. There was Zoe, the warrior who was married to Wash, a man who probably never had a physical fight in his life. There was Inara who was a registered companion (a high-status prostitute); she was completely non-physical, but was undeniably powerful. And then, of course, River: weapons-grade physicality, genius-level intelligence, but, by far, the most vulnerable.

Thankfully, that's the anything-goes, nuanced feminism I grew up with. It was well-beyond the days when you couldn't wear high heels and be a feminist. And I'm really glad that's the case because I genuinely believe that playing dress up is something some girls (myself included) instinctively and genuinely love. As a young child my cousin and I played with my Great Grandmother's Avon lipstick samples and costume jewelry for hours and I still love glittery, girly things. I would hate to have to completely deny that about myself or feel like it somehow compromised my intelligence or my power, like it had to exist as some kind of guilty pleasure. Girly pleasures are completely unrelated to my power as a woman, but authenticity is not - a feminism that required it's adherents to be inauthentic could never have survived. So the diversification of feminism represented by the Riot Grrrls represented not just broadening feminism's base, but allowing room for authentic, self-expression.

Update: After I wrote this, Amanda Marcotte wrote this very entertaining piece, arguing - unbelievably IMO - that TV producers have not been able to "stray away from the magic formula of building a show around a powerful man grappling with the limits of traditional masculinity." What? Clearly, she missed Whedon who was undoubtedly a central figure of "the golden era of television" she's describing.

Update 2: I've been blown away by David Graeber's history of debt and happened to come across this article he wrote about Buffy the Vampire Slayer in 1998.