Women Get More Cool Stuff Than Men

cowgirlI am painfully aware that writing about gender in these troubled times is like being the goalie on a javelin team, but I’m going to do it anyway.  Stereotypes be damned!  The truth has to be told: women get way more cool stuff than men.  Yes, I realize there’s the whole punitive underwear problem and, beyond Barbie, toys for girls generally suck. But look around you: women have tons more fun with life than men do.  Why?  ‘Cause they get all the good stuff.  Here’s a selection of evidence to prove it.

Sleeves — Women get more sleeves than men.  There are bell sleeves, cap sleeves, raglan sleeves, lily-point sleeves, bishop sleeves etc., etc., etc.  In fact, according to one source, there are over 40 different sleeves available to women.  And what do men get?  Long sleeves and short sleeves!

Hats — Put a hat — any hat — on a woman and you’ve got instant sexy.  Put a hat on a man, and unless his name is Indiana Jones, Humphrey Bogart or Che Guevara, you’ve got a candidate for Geek Of The Week.

Colours — Women get all the colours.  Men get several shades of mud.  Don’t believe me?  How many men do you know who are climbing the corporate ladder in a 3-piece, electric-blue hounds-tooth suit with  ruby red shoes and matching belt?

Hair — Even Stephen Hawking can’t calculate the infinity plus one number of things women can do with their hair.  Meanwhile, on the other side of the chromosome patch, men have the faux hawk, the man bun and bald.

Shoes — I’m not even going to touch this one.

Stories — See a well-dressed woman dining alone in an expensive restaurant and there’s an elaborate story there somewhere.  See a well-dressed man dining alone in an expensive restaurant and … he just got dumped … like, 20 minutes ago.

And finally:

Girl’s Night Out — Girl’s Night can range from a drunken pub crawl through the streets of Maribor, Slovenia — where someone ends up with her panties in her purse — to Ramen Noodle Night with sweatpants, jasmine tea and vintage Ryan Gosling videos.  On the other hand, since the beginning of time, Boy’s Night has always involved a game, junk food, alcohol and the eruption of various bodily gases.

I rest my case!

Unfortunate Men’s Fashion

silhouette-1517089_1280I remember when men’s fashion consisted of the colour of  your shirt, the width of your lapel and the size of your tie.  We’ve come a long way since those heady days when nobody gave a damn  what men looked like.  These days, men are breaking out of their no-style strait-jackets and showing the world just how ridiculous they can look — given half a chance.  Here are some examples of male fashion statements in the 21st century.

Bush Baby Beards — Unlike their Old Testament cousins. these neatly trimmed wannabes are the fashion of a man who desperately wants to be trendy but has minivan payments, a massive mortgage and a job he can’t afford to lose.

Popped collars — Usually found on Lacoste Shirts (those three-button alligator abominations.) They’re the international symbol for “My father’s a lawyer, and now I’m a lawyer, too.”

Half Zippered Polar Fleece — Nothing says Suburban Dad like half zippered polar fleece.

Faux Hawk Hair — For the man who doesn’t have the stones to go full Mohawk.

Tattoos (neck, face or armband) — You think you look like a badass. Guess again!  You look like your IQ and your fashion sense are permanently stuck in the 80s.

Backwards (or sideways) Baseball Hats — The universal style of the heterosexual man who hasn’t quite figured out why women tend to avoid him.

Flip Flops — Except for the beach, the gym and Walmart, grown men wear shoes.  They just do.

Skinny Jeans — No room for your keys, your phone or your genitalia.  No wonder so few hipsters have kids.

Plaid Shirts — Hey, buddy!  You’re not a lumberjack.  You’re a waiter from Queens.

Corn Rows — Normally found on a young man who’s just returned from a Mexican vacation.  His girlfriend thought it would look cute, and he thought he’d get laid.  (They were both wrong.)

Ear Gauge — These tell the world you’ve worked at Starbucks for so long you’re finally on the day shift.

The Man Bun — Just sad.  Really, really sad.

Beanie Caps — Lost your comb, your shampoo and your dignity?  No problem!

Zany Socks — Unless you’re a Dot Com millionaire, a tenured Art History professor or terminally English, zany socks do not make you any more interesting than you already aren’t.

And finally:

The Gangsta Hoodie — If you’re over thirty and still wearing the gangsta hoodie, you need to take a look at your life.  Seriously, something‘s not working.

Women Can’t Win

hillaryOkay, folks, this is 2016.  We’re a decade and a half into the 21st century, 300 years beyond The Enlightenment, over 120 years since women first voted on this planet, but, for some strange reason, we still have to put up with this crap.

Take a look.

Eight years ago, everybody and her sister was calling Hillary Clinton frumpy for her infinite collection of pantsuits — up to and including some weird up-the-bum photographs of Ms. Clinton from behind.  Fast forward.  This week, Hillary all but locked up the Democratic nomination for president (first woman ever, etc. etc.) she gave a semi-acceptance speech in a super stylish mega-expensive Armani jacket, and — wait for it — social media went berserk.  Suddenly, Clinton’s an elitist cow.  And these weren’t just a few snide remarks; people were digging in their heels and really letting her have it. (It’s incredible how insulting a person can be in 140 characters.)  The last time the fashionistas got this excited (“bitchy” is such a hard word) Sarah Palin’s skirt was too tight and “OMG! Who’s paying for her underwear?”  And let’s be clear: this Twitter, Facebook, Instagram ambush didn’t come from Trailer Trash America.  There were no bathrobes, bony feet or bedroom slippers in sight.  No, no, no!  These social media snipers were (for the most part) sharp-dressed, serious, high-end urban professionals who wouldn’t say “fat girl” if their lives depended on it.  What’s the deal?

I’m not naive.  I wasn’t raised by wolves.  I understand that there’s always going to be a double standard — pie-in-the-sky gender politics be damned.  Women always have been — and always will be — judged differently from men; it’s tucked into the chromosome count somewhere.  (And, remember: it’s not necessarily men doing the judging.)  My problem is this current crop of social media malcontents are playing both sides of the street.  Their selective acrimony is a wonder to behold.

For example, any woman who’s ever walked the Red Carpet knows there’s a target on her back. She better get it just right because the knives are out and nobody’s taking prisoners.  On the other hand, find a bathroom mirror selfie on YouTube where somebody’s ample ass is stuffed into a two-sizes-too-small corset, yoga pants and rhinestone Reeboks and nobody says a word because — that, friends and neighbours — is “body shaming.”  One question: what the hell’s the difference?

In less than six months, Hillary Clinton could become the most powerful person — PERSON — on the planet.  She’s going to have the ability to obliterate Damascus, Baghdad, Tehran and everything in between, before breakfast, wrapped in a shower curtain if she so desires.  It’s unbelievable that there are still people spilling ink over what’s hanging in her closet — as if that really matters.