I've always been surprised with just how many sex tips Cosmopolitan publishes and just how weird so many of them are. If magazines and newspapers rely on advertising these days, is the weirdness of their tips actually a perverse marketing ploy?
Anyone that has read Cosmo before can tell you about some of the tips they've come across. They are much more nonsensical than they are common sense. But some people may not know that. I keep imagining someone relying on these sex tips that they believe will wholly pleasure their partner.
What if Cosmo wanted someone to do this so that they could sabotage their love lives and continue to purchase more of the magazine because they believe knowing more their "love" and "sex" tips will actually help them!
A terrifying idea indeed. I believe there should be an alternative in Bust or Bitch to provide actual, sensual ideas to enhance the experience with your partner. Now that would be a publication I support!
Meanwhile, check out exxxpert tips and Tips from Famous Writers for dramatically better alternatives than what Cosmo boasts!
Surrounded by massive music industry buzz since the release of her first track "Seventeen" almost four years ago, Azealia Banks is either love or hate. The 21-year-old Harlem rapper is loud, lewd, and brash, with quick wit and even faster rhymes. Unfortunately, she is young and very obviously still trying to figure out how to disconnect her personal life from her public persona -- something that has gotten her in trouble recently. Nonetheless, she is getting people talking.
Personally, I am fascinated with her. While she may do some things that are inappropriate or unnecessarily aggressive I continue to excuse her because "she is young" and "still trying to figure it out" and people have said that about me in the past and I can relate to it.
The release of the "212" video spurred a lot of reactions from the feminist community. While many felt uncomfortable with her reclamation and appropriation of "cunt" and "bitch", even more people felt uncomfortable with the ease she dropped the n-bomb, using it much like a preposition.
Like many before her, black female rappers are constantly misidentified and misunderstood in the larger content of hip-hop. Tricia Rose in her article titled "Bad Sistas: Black Women Rappers and Sexual Politics in Rap Music" writes about the duties that black female rappers have to "interpret and articulate the fears, pleasures, and the promises of young black women whose voices have been relegated to the margins of public discourse." While she does not call herself a feminist, Banks' ability to use her voice to garner attention to what she is saying (read: it's only brash because the truth hurts) is a telling sign that the role of women in hip-hop is changing drastically. In a recent interview with GQ UK, she said:
Do you think of yourself as a feminist?
No, I'm not a feminist, but at the same time I've kind of gotten over that inferiority towards men that I've grown up with. Not having a dad growing up you feel a little inferior and a little vulnerable. I realized the power of being a woman. We don't really have physical man power. I'm sure there are some girls who are totally into sports, but that's how men compete with each other: they play sports, they have the best car and they have the prettiest girl. With men their power is very much external. Women compete on a completely different level. There's definitely a lot more psychological warfare that goes on between women. Women meet each other and they will say, "Hey!" [looks GQ.com up and down]Automatically sizing each other up, whereas men are more like [bored drawl], "Hey, you like nachos? Want to get some nachos?" Women are way more conniving - I don't want to say evil - but way more internal and we keep a lot more stuff secret. It's not a feminism thing, it's just me realizing where I am, what I can get and what I can do to get it.
By announcing that she is not a feminist, she goes against the dichotomy in hip-hop that says males rappers are constructed as sexist, while female rappers are naturally meant to be seen as empowering to women and feminist. People criticize Banks because of her ability to masterfully hone the power that she feels from being a woman. White cis men do not want to hear a barely-legal woman of color talking about dominating them physically, sexually, and financially. Her ability to simultaneously hit 'em where it hurts and empower herself (she openly talks about pleasuring herself and getting pleasured -- see songs "212", "Liquorice") are unlike that of most rap artists (save for recent ones like Missy Elliott, Lil Kim, but they don't even do it much like she does.) In Rose's piece, she writes about three characteristics that are predominant in the works of blame female rappers and those are:
1. Heterosexual courtship
2. The importance of the female voice
3. Mastery in women's rap and black female public displays of physical and sexual freedom
Azealia Banks somehow manages to turn all of these aspects around. Banks, who is openly bisexual, raps equally about loving women and loving men. In a recent interview with New York Times, she said “I’m not trying to be, like, the bisexual, lesbian rapper. I don’t live on other people’s terms.” Nonetheless, she is opened a rarely-talked about topic of homosexuality in the black community. As she becomes more known, I'm curious to see how she will be able to influence the rest of the hip-hop community.
In regards to her voice, making her lips and teeth one of the main scenes of "212" effectively depicts in effect smacks the importance of the female voice right into the face of all those who talk poorly about female rappers. Her flow is masterful, cheeky, and smart.
As previously discussed, Banks is an openly sexual person. She is partially clad in many of her videos, but I don't think she does that merely to be perceived as "sexy." Her confidence in her ability to still be listened to while half-dressed is intimidating in the best way, and I think her ability to do so terrifies many.
I am very curious to see what will become of her in the future and hope that her knowledge and influence grow to change the way the majority of the hip-hop and rap community perceive the gender & sex-fluid among them.
I think this video is hilarious. Yes, it is corralling women in by exploiting the male body but this isn't something that's never happened before. As corny as this commercial is, I think it has something to say about the status of our advertising industry. I don't necessarily think it has the best thing to say about the industry -- "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" -- but I think that the video creators were cognizant enough of the advertising environment to understand the merits of satire as a means to inform a large audience.
The question isn't what do we call me? My name is Diana, sometimes I go by D, I'll even go by Danielle if you are too drunk to actually remember my name.
But I absolutely will NOT tolerate (and will attempt to hold any semblance of composure to not punch you square in the jaw) being called any of the following: girl, honey, sweetheart, sweetie, baby. Perhaps my reaction is unusual, but in the scope of gender normative vocabulary, I think it is right on point.
In a recent article in Forbes titled "'Girls?' 'Ladies?' 'Folks?' A Visual Guide to What You Should Call that Group of Individuals" author Kashmir Hill discusses how girls has become an acceptable term for women far past the age of elementary school children. TV shows Girls, Bad Girls Club, even the movie the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo identify women in a diminutive way that presents an unclear representation of their age and character.
By normalizing "girls" to mean any women of any age further marginalizes women by making it difficult to assert themselves around more male-dominated figures, who are strictly referred to as "men."
A very telling quote about the rampancy of this problem discusses the problem with the integration of girl/boy vocabulary in popular culture.
It’s hard to imagine Robert Downey Jr. signing up to play “Iron Boy.”
I love RDJ so I'd probably watch it regardless of what the movie was called, but Hill alludes to the problem that men feel uncomfortable having to decide what to call another, equally powerful, same-aged woman so they auto-pilot to girls. Additionally, calling someone by a noun referencing their gender assumes the gender binary and does not allow for fluidity of preference.
Hill includes a very helpful chart, one that both men AND women should make sure to memorize.
Incidentally, while pondering the importance of Barbie dolls to my upbringing, I stumbled upon this.
Not unlike the weirdly fetishized things that many adults do to their Barbie dolls, online YouTube series "The Most Popular Girls in School" plays on the illusion, much like I possessed as a child, that Barbies can be real human beings with emotions and personalities.
TMPGiS takes this perception to an extreme. The creators of this series intensify the personas each Barbie toy comes with. The characters in this series are high school students who interact much like high school students do: rudely, honestly, brashly.
I appreciate that the creators decided to make a typical high-school drama using Barbie toys rather than real humans. With toys, the stereotypes can be discussed without taking into account the merits, their social lives, and/or opinions of the actor/actress themselves; the conversation can face solely on social constructs like gender and race.
An interesting decision by the creators was to use first, not to include any Barbies of color and also their choice to use Saison Marguerite (who appears in later episodes) a French-exchange student who plays up all the French stereotypes. The creators really go to town with her, but are we as viewers supposed to think its funny or get offended? Is playing up French stereotypes something that was already done to us by the Mattel industry, much like the Barbies of Puerto Rican and Mexican heritage Barbies, or are the creators purposefully doing this to be offense? Given Mattel's decision to include women of race and various ethnicities as products, the creators of TMPGiS effectively -- if not inadvertently -- comment on Mattel's poor cultural depiction of various races and by using Saison Marguerite, comment on Mattel's flaws in their choice.
Wake up in my perfect pink Princess bed. You’d think a bed like this implies I’m not doing much with my day, but I’m no slouch! I’m the multi-tasking queen, or as this bed implies…Princess. Look in the mirror, lipstick and eyeshadow still on! Looking great, girlfriend, this day is your oyster! After my hair’s done, nails done, everything’s did, here comes perhaps the hardest part of my day: whatever will I wear? It all depends on what tasks need a-doing. Put on my lab coat and I’m saving the world Scientist Barbie. Relaxed casual wear and I’m walking dogs along Malibu beach Barbie. Today, I think I’m going to teach kids how to live, how to be….I guess today I’m the live your life like you want to Barbie.
In a discussion on dolls and games in a class I’m taking regarding gender, race, and class in media, we were prompted to create a story from Barbie’s perspective. While others openly read their stories out loud, I struggled to express exactly what I had wanted Barbie to say — or rather what Barbie was saying to me.
It was difficult to discuss Barbie so casually after all the effects on me as a child. Growing up in West Hollywood after recently immigrating from Estonia, my family didn’t have much. Living five people to one two-bedroom apartment, our sources of entertainment save for each other were scant. Granted, I was a toddler — and here I openly pull the only-child card — and had pleaded, whined, cried, whimpered, and begged my way to the 10 Barbies that I cherished dearly. I didn’t have much, but having Barbie as my companion was enough.
I didn’t realize it until much later that I always felt sociable and oriented later in life because of all the time I spent with my Barbies. I told myself then that if they could do anything, so could I. Even if I couldn’t have a Malibu mansion or a memberless Adonis-like boyfriend/life partner, I could temporarily pretend that that was the case. Looking back, I attribute many of my current qualities to the Barbies I used to own. I was never afraid to lob all the hair off of my Barbies much like I am today, and I knew that I had a plan to maintain a career and I’ve since stuck with it.
Mostly importantly, Barbie taught me confidence…but in a bizarre, Yoda/reverse psychological way. The statuesque, dare I say — Aryan — beauty looked nothing like the jet black haired, baby-birthing hipped child that I was, but it was Barbie that taught me to be confident in my looks even if I didn’t look like anybody else. She allowed my typically introverted self to openly express what I felt needed saying and doing.
Barbie was not just another toy for me. Barbie was an escape. While others played with them and then threw them away, Barbie became my closest companion.
