i think my future husband would be a really brave man.
i think it takes guts to be with someone like me.
plus...i like to conduct experiments regarding the human body than might or might not be 100% safe.
i think it'll be mean to make someone go through whatever i want them to do, if he didn't love me. so it is a hazard to love me.
it's much better to be a girl around me.
i miss S. i really miss her. there is not one day i stop and think what is she doing now.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Burneth Thy Corset!
note to chris: campus is not worth the effort of dressing up so nicely. points to be illustrated later.
my mother is a strong woman. she is hardworking, intelligent and successful in her career. she earns her own money, and is paying for my university fees singlehandedly, on top of her own indulgences like spa treatments and branded handbags. not to say that my father is a complete slob, since he does contribute to our living maintenance.
my mother is forever talking about how women are so strong, how women can do so much more than men, how it is only a matter of time when men would realize the injustice history had dealt to women. and yet she sets feminist progress back centuries by her archaic, Confucian male-centric views by the double standards she sets when it comes to me and my brother.
picture this: my brother and i are vegging out in front of the telly. he had done nothing all day, except read novels, play computer games, and watching DVDs. i had just completed a harrowing 3000 word essay and need a much-deserved break. in comes my mother, seeing us both slacking off. she stands before me, ignoring my brother, and says, "don't be so lazy and just sit there. why can't you fold the clothes for once?"
hello? your son is sitting there, right before you, and you just dump the work on your daughter, assuming that it is the RIGHT of the girl to do the housework while it is OKAY for the boy to enjoy being lazy and dominant?
such downright hypocrisy for a woman who complains that women have to do all the work and men do nothing. the truth is, she wants to do all the work and leave nothing for the men to do, just so she can have the right to complain. well if she wants to do that, fine, but don't implicate the rest of womanhood along with you, and above all, don't dump the laundry on your tired daughter while patronizing your spoiled son.
no i don't hate my brother. he is my closest friend and has stood up for me since time immemorial, but he IS spoiled, for all his intelligence, good nature and kindness.
my mother makes a big deal when my brother does the dishes after she cooks, but when i do the dishes, she simply takes it as if i was supposed to do it all along (my father is annoying: he acts surprised like i even knew how to do the dishes). and on top of that she inspects them and criticizes them if i left out a spot of grease. if only she realizes the truth of things! at home, my brother leaves the pots and pans and dirty dishes in the sink after he's done with them, and i am the one who washes them because i need to cook as well.
my mother insists that i'm plump and need to lose weight (strangely, just 10 minutes ago i was in the living room, and my father said i looked like a skinny gibbon), but when my brother announces that he will be on a diet to keep trim, she kicks up a protest. needless to say my brother doesn't listen to her and diets anyway, and when he yields results, my mother turns to me and asks me why can't i have the same discipline to exercise like my brother?
um, hello mother. have you forgotten your daughter was in a car accident?
my mother asks me why i do not wear makeup to school, or put on my pretty clothes. she dislikes the sloppy stuff i wear, and calls me plain. i tell her there is no need to dress up for school. she counters by saying, "you should present your best face forward at all times. then boys will like you."
i tell her, why should i pertain to the wants and fantasies of boys? why should i paint myself and put on my expensive dresses, risking a stain from the filthiness of campus, just so i can parade myself to a horde of penis-owners that wouldn't know better and probably not as smart as i am? what you see is what you get, mother. after all, this plain, un-madeup face devoid of mascara and lip gloss is what my husband is going to see every morning upon waking up, so what better time than now to get used to it?
i have just as much right to wear crumpled t-shirts and faded bermudas and scruffy sneakers to campus as the boy who wears his army singlet, FBTs and $5 flipflops to lecture, or the girl who wears a BCBG dress, Jimmy Choo heels, a full face of makeup complete with false lashes and a Fendi bag to a schoolday that consist of only 1 hour of tutorial.
at least i wash my face before going to school, and comb my hair. isn't that good enough effort?
my grandmother's generation was about moaning about the cages that restrict them. my mother's generation opened the cages. my generation is to burn these cages and discard the ashes. for now these cages are still there. they have been opened, and they stand opened, but the fact that they are still present means that we can just run back into the cages any time we want. but we should get rid of this safety blanket that binds and chokes us, and be brave and strong enough to stand in our own two feet, regardless if they are shod by Blahnik or Bata sandals.
because we have every right to let our brothers fold their own underwear and t-shirts.
my mother is a strong woman. she is hardworking, intelligent and successful in her career. she earns her own money, and is paying for my university fees singlehandedly, on top of her own indulgences like spa treatments and branded handbags. not to say that my father is a complete slob, since he does contribute to our living maintenance.
my mother is forever talking about how women are so strong, how women can do so much more than men, how it is only a matter of time when men would realize the injustice history had dealt to women. and yet she sets feminist progress back centuries by her archaic, Confucian male-centric views by the double standards she sets when it comes to me and my brother.
picture this: my brother and i are vegging out in front of the telly. he had done nothing all day, except read novels, play computer games, and watching DVDs. i had just completed a harrowing 3000 word essay and need a much-deserved break. in comes my mother, seeing us both slacking off. she stands before me, ignoring my brother, and says, "don't be so lazy and just sit there. why can't you fold the clothes for once?"
hello? your son is sitting there, right before you, and you just dump the work on your daughter, assuming that it is the RIGHT of the girl to do the housework while it is OKAY for the boy to enjoy being lazy and dominant?
such downright hypocrisy for a woman who complains that women have to do all the work and men do nothing. the truth is, she wants to do all the work and leave nothing for the men to do, just so she can have the right to complain. well if she wants to do that, fine, but don't implicate the rest of womanhood along with you, and above all, don't dump the laundry on your tired daughter while patronizing your spoiled son.
no i don't hate my brother. he is my closest friend and has stood up for me since time immemorial, but he IS spoiled, for all his intelligence, good nature and kindness.
my mother makes a big deal when my brother does the dishes after she cooks, but when i do the dishes, she simply takes it as if i was supposed to do it all along (my father is annoying: he acts surprised like i even knew how to do the dishes). and on top of that she inspects them and criticizes them if i left out a spot of grease. if only she realizes the truth of things! at home, my brother leaves the pots and pans and dirty dishes in the sink after he's done with them, and i am the one who washes them because i need to cook as well.
my mother insists that i'm plump and need to lose weight (strangely, just 10 minutes ago i was in the living room, and my father said i looked like a skinny gibbon), but when my brother announces that he will be on a diet to keep trim, she kicks up a protest. needless to say my brother doesn't listen to her and diets anyway, and when he yields results, my mother turns to me and asks me why can't i have the same discipline to exercise like my brother?
um, hello mother. have you forgotten your daughter was in a car accident?
my mother asks me why i do not wear makeup to school, or put on my pretty clothes. she dislikes the sloppy stuff i wear, and calls me plain. i tell her there is no need to dress up for school. she counters by saying, "you should present your best face forward at all times. then boys will like you."
i tell her, why should i pertain to the wants and fantasies of boys? why should i paint myself and put on my expensive dresses, risking a stain from the filthiness of campus, just so i can parade myself to a horde of penis-owners that wouldn't know better and probably not as smart as i am? what you see is what you get, mother. after all, this plain, un-madeup face devoid of mascara and lip gloss is what my husband is going to see every morning upon waking up, so what better time than now to get used to it?
i have just as much right to wear crumpled t-shirts and faded bermudas and scruffy sneakers to campus as the boy who wears his army singlet, FBTs and $5 flipflops to lecture, or the girl who wears a BCBG dress, Jimmy Choo heels, a full face of makeup complete with false lashes and a Fendi bag to a schoolday that consist of only 1 hour of tutorial.
at least i wash my face before going to school, and comb my hair. isn't that good enough effort?
my grandmother's generation was about moaning about the cages that restrict them. my mother's generation opened the cages. my generation is to burn these cages and discard the ashes. for now these cages are still there. they have been opened, and they stand opened, but the fact that they are still present means that we can just run back into the cages any time we want. but we should get rid of this safety blanket that binds and chokes us, and be brave and strong enough to stand in our own two feet, regardless if they are shod by Blahnik or Bata sandals.
because we have every right to let our brothers fold their own underwear and t-shirts.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Mantua Maketh the Woman
kagetsuki, me, crux. we're not in costume.
for the last time, lolita is not cosplay! (it is also nothing sexual in nature)
just because it doesn't look like conventional clothing, doesn't mean it's a costume. it's a fashion. the JSKs, the OPs, they are dresses. they might have more lace, more frills and more layers than a wedding cake, but they are clothes all the same.
look at western goths. are they cosplaying? no, they aren't. they aren't in costumes. bondage pants, corsets, capes, goggles, hair falls etc. they do not resemble conventional clothing, and yet people recognize them as a fashion/style/subculture.
so why do you people think i cosplay because i dress in lolita? i am not pretending to be someone. i am being myself, and if my dress is a little more frilly than yours, tough. i am living my life by my rules, and i can wear whatever i damn want.
how would you feel, if i asked you if you were a cosplay? "but i'm in a t-shirt and jeans!" you exclaim. well, aren't you cosplaying the generic workaday ippan-jin?
nonsense. the next time you see me prancing about in a floofy dress, look at yourself, and wonder, "am i cosplaying? am i wearing these common clothes because that is what everyone else is wearing, or is it because i truly love wearing it?"
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