Enabling Is My Superpower

because yes, that's why

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im-just-a-line-in-a-song asked: What does the birthday think of the sexy corn costume


The Birthday does not answer Asks that are not requests for admission.  But I have some thoughts.

Look: I love sexy costumes.  If you want to be a sexy lamp, go with the Great Pumpkin and be fabulous in your fringe and your heels and your sexiness.

What I have an issue with is the way that “sexy” is more and more consistently the only option offered to women above the age of four.  Yes, four.  Four and under, you get the unisex costumes.  When I search “corn costume,” I find adorable toddlers dressed as ears of corn and big triangular candy corn, and it’s like something out of Gravity Falls.  So cute.

But then you hit five/six, and the gendered costumes become inescapable.  No more cute unisex for you: things are either cut too large to work on the average female body—the only non-sexy store-bought corn costume is for an adult male, and I know men who would be swimming in the thing—or they are sexy.  Sexy sexy sexy.  Why would you even be going out on Halloween, if you didn’t want to sexy?  SEXY IS THE NEW CREEPY.

The sexy costumes, the short skirts and the low bodices and the package pictures with pouty lips and thrusting hips and “this is the norm,” start at six years old.  Frequently, it’s just the adult costume sized down, maybe with some tights and a slightly higher neckline.  Maybe not.

Going to the Halloween store should not feel like a trip to the lingerie store.  Especially not when I’m going there with kids who want a costume that will stand up to collecting all the candy ever.

"Just make your own" isn’t really an option in a world where we don’t prioritize learning to sew.  Paying someone to make you one is equally not an option: if you’re at the Spirit Store, looking sadly at the sexy corn, you probably can’t afford a bespoke costume.

If “Sexy Corn” was part of a range that included “Corn—large,” “Corn—small,” “Sexy Corn—miniskirt version,” and “Sexy Corn—assless chaps version,” I would be fine with it.  As it exists, right now, it is representative of a larger issue with how Halloween has been sexualized, and how we start limiting the choices of our girls as early as FIVE FUCKING YEARS OLD.

The Great Pumpkin does not approve.  And neither do I.

Filed under this halloween

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If you were ever a girl that people whispered about and laughed at as you walked by…. That feeling never goes away. You’re suspicious of everyone around you having a good time, thinking it’s at your expense.

OMG. So true. :(

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Even at age twelve I could tell that Jimmy Carter was an honest man trying to address complicated issues and Ronald Reagan was a brilcreemed salesman telling people what they wanted to hear. I secretly wept on the stairs the night he was elected President, because I understood that the kind of shitheads I had to listen to in the cafeteria grew up to become voters, and won. I spent the eight years he was in office living in one of those science-fiction movies where everyone is taken over by aliens—I was appalled by how stupid and mean-spirited and repulsive the world was becoming while everyone else in America seemed to agree that things were finally exactly as they should be. The Washington Press corps was so enamored of his down-to-earth charm that they never checked his facts, but if you watched his face when it was at rest, when he wasn’t performing for anyone, you could see him for what he really was—a black-eyed, slit-mouthed, lizard-faced old son-of-a-bitch. He was a bad actor, an informer for McCarthy, and a hired front man for a gang of Texas oilmen, fundamentalist dingbats, and right-wing psychotics out of Dr. Strangelove. He put a genial face on chauvanism, callousness, and greed, and made people feel good about being bigots again. He likened Central American death squads to our founding fathers and called the Taliban “freedom fighters.” His legacy includes the dismantling of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, the final dirty win of Management over Labor, the outsourcing of America’s manufacturing base, the embezzlement of almost all the country’s wealth by 1% of its citizens, the scapegoating of the poor and black, the War on Drugs, the eviction of schizophrenics into the streets, AIDS, acid rain, Iran-Contra, and, let’s not forget, the corpses of two hundred forty United States Marines. He moved the center of political discourse in this country to somewhere in between Richard Nixon and Augusto Pinochet. He believed in astrology and Armageddon and didn’t know the difference between history and movies; his stories were lies and his jokes were scripted. He was the triumph of image over truth, paving the way for even more vapid spokesmodels like George W. Bush. He was, as everyone agrees, exactly what he appeared to be—nothing. He made me ashamed to be an American. If there was any justice in this world his Presidential Library would contain nothing but boys’ adventure books and bad cowboy movies, and the only things named after him would be shopping malls and Potter’s Fields. Let the earth where he is buried be seeded with salt.

The Pain (via azspot)

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I loathe Ronald Reagan.  

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Filed under ronald reagan *ptu*