#WEcount

I’m an identical twin and growing up we found clear ways to differentiate ourselves. I cut my hair short with the kitchen scissors, sitting behind the sofa when I was about four. I wore yellow and my sister wore green. I mostly wore trousers and shorts, and she wore skirts and dresses. I was a “tom boy” (although I think that’s a silly term: I was a girl who wore trousers and climbed trees; but it is a useful short-hand and you’ll all know what I mean by it). At my primary school, the girls wore grey skirts and gingham dresses. I didn’t want to, so I was the first girl at my school to break tradition and my parents had to buy my new, little grey trousers from the “boy’s” section of the shop. Yet, it felt comfortable and natural to me at that age and I didn’t care what the other children or the teachers said. 

Fast forward a few years and by the time I was at secondary school, I was too nervous to wear a skirt, although that wasn’t a feeling I think I would have been able to name, let alone say aloud. There was something about wearing one that made me feel self-conscious, made me feel I’d be looked at. I was extremely tall as a teenager (taller than all the girls, most of the boys and some of the teachers) and it was always a struggle to find a uniform that would fit me, within the strict parameter of my secondary school’s rules. I look back now rather longingly at my skinny long limbs, but at the time - although always proud of my height - I didn’t have the benefit of being popular or cool, so it wasn’t something I would ever have flaunted confidently.

In the summer term of Year 10, when I was 15 years old, I wore a skirt to school for the first time since I was six. I remember feeling self-conscious, like I had a neon sign above my head. And when I got on the school bus at the end of the day, the bus driver pulled me onto his lap, in front of all of the small, shrieking Year 7s, and wouldn’t let me go. I remember I had lots of bags, and the gearstick was pressing into my leg; I couldn’t get off him and I didn’t know what to do. I remember feeling humiliated, but acting like it was funny. One of my male friends came and pulled me off him and made a big show of it, to ‘lighten the mood’, saying “Oi! She’s with me!” and then dragging me to the back of the bus. I remember another friend, a female one, telling me I had it coming, that I shouldn’t have been so friendly. In 2003, I wouldn’t have been familiar with the term “slut shaming”. 

That’s not the end of that story. That’s not the end of the messages I was given around it. Another few years later, at a house-party, that same teenage boy climbed on top of me when I was lying down upstairs, horribly drunk, and said “I really hope you don’t remember this tomorrow”. I remember rolling to face the wall, in the hope that it would form some protection. Fortunately, a couple of female friends came upstairs at that moment and shouted at him and got him off me. Although not before they’d taken pictures, which one girl posted online. That’s not the end of that story either. That’s not the end of the messages I was given around it. That’s also not the worst thing that happened to me as a teenager. 

So when I see the recent articles in the media about school skirts, it doesn’t bring back the best of memories. And what makes me livid, is that for a new generation those memories are being created right now. Right this second. And we haven’t stopped it yet. 

So, I’m trying to stop it. I know I can’t do it on my own. I’m standing as a candidate for the Women’s Equality Party (WE) because I want to end violence against women and girls. I want to end violence against everyone actually. I want young men to stop killing themselves, because we live in a world that sees courage as weakness. I want teenagers to be taught what consent is (which is why that’s one of my day jobs). I don’t want any part of the body to be used as a weapon to inflict pain, or be a source of shame. I want to see an end to the systemic gender inequality that underpins almost every single thing. I’m trying to end it. But I can’t do it on my own and WE can’t do it on our own. WE need your votes. WE need your confidence. WE need your bravery. 

Vote WE on May 5th. Because #WEcount.

Equality is better for everyone

On May 5th, London is being given a new choice: the chance to vote for a party that is committed to doing politics differently. I'm not a career politician, and although I've always thought of myself as political, the jeering-sneering performance of politics has never appealed. I just don't think the route to social justice is lined with posh men in suits shouting at each other. It's dialogue, communication, empathy - it's human connections that make my world go round. So I've thrown myself into a career (in the arts and education) which celebrates them and tries to carve creative paths to a slightly better world for a few people at a time. But I've unexpectedly, and so naturally I almost didn't know notice it happening, become a politician; I've found a possible home for that political passion in the Women's Equality Party. And on May 5th, registered voters in London have the chance to make the city a lot better for a lot of people. For everyone, actually. Because equality is.

The Women's Equality Party (#WE) is a new, non-partisan political party, formed last year and growing with astonishing speed, which is putting gender equality at the top of the political agenda for the benefit of us all. It has six core-objectives:

'WE are pushing for equal representation in politics, business, industry and throughout working life. WE are pressing for equal pay and an equal opportunity to thrive. WE are campaigning for equal parenting and caregiving and shared responsibilities at home to give everyone equal opportunities both in family life and in the workplace. WE urge an education system that creates opportunities for all children and an understanding of why this matters. WE strive for equal treatment of women by and in the media. WE seek an end to violence against women.'

I'm standing as a candidate on the London-wide list for the Greater London Assembly (the orange ballot paper), alongside 9 other inspirational women and Sophie Walker, our leader and mayoral candidate. #WE are also standing in Scotland and Wales.

#WE have a vision for London that would make the city safer and fairer for everyone. #WE have specific, costed policies which would create:

• A transport system that is accessible for parents with buggies and wheel-chair users, where women and girls can travel safely, without the fear of sexual harassment
• An end to the 23% pay gap between men and women, in a city where women can realise their full economic potential (and add £70 billion to the economy!)
• A comprehensive solution to the housing crisis, by making housing more affordable and promoting inclusive design
• Protection for women and children escaping domestic abuse, with ring-fenced funding for refuges and safe housing 
• A system of child-care for all children from the end of paid parental leave at 9 months, and a pan-London approach to meet the demand for care for older and disabled people 
• Compulsory, quality Sex and Relationship Education and PSHE, so that the next generation are taught to respect and protect one another
• A thriving and brilliant work-force, which celebrates and awards the achievements of everyone, and gives them fair access to work - #WE will create work that works.

And LOADS more. Just read our manifesto.

In a political system stacked against new-comers our voice cannot be heard as loudly as the old parties. #WE are fighting to be seen and heard and it can be heart-breakingly, back-breakingly hard. One of the biggest barriers, I think, to us winning as many votes as we could on May 5th is the completely forgivable lack of understanding by the electorate of the super complicated systems by which each of the different votes are counted and awarded. London Elects explains it nice and clearly here. 

So if you are reading this and thinking "I'm super down with the whole equality thing, but I don't want to 'waste my vote' on a new party and risk a big, old party I hate getting in" then FEAR NOT. And then tell all your friends. The orange ballot paper, the London-wide list for the Greater London Assembly, is elected using a form of proportional representation (the Modified d'Hondt Formula, for those for whom that means something), and #WE have enough support that we can and will win seats on it. If enough Londoners know a) about us, and b) that we can win. A vote for equality will not be a wasted vote.

So TELL EVERYONE. And VOTE!  

Kate for Mayor!

2016 has got off to a rather exciting start. For the last week I've been uttering a sentence which if you had told me I would be saying this time last year, I simply would not have believed you. "I've been shortlisted to the final five to run for Mayor of London for the Women's Equality Party". One of the reasons that sentence would have been so alien in January 2015 is that the Women's Equality Party (#WE) didn't exist; it was an idea yet to be formed. People responded to its emergence so swiftly and with such passion, it's hard to believe last year it wasn't A Thing. Like a song you hear on the radio and can start singing straight away, thinking I know this song, it speaks to me. #WE is that song. The Party is the party. 2015 didn't just bring us the spiralizer.

From its conception at WOW by Catherine Mayer, joining forces with Sandi Toksvig, in March 2015, it is now a proper party (which is a crazily hard thing to become in a political system stacked against new-comers) and a real contender in the next elections. #WE has more than 45,000 members and supporters and over 70 local branches (some of which I helped set up when I started volunteering for the party last spring). And now we are standing candidates for the London Assembly and London Mayoral elections. And I'm lucky enough to have been short-listed as a candidate! Bloody hell, January!

Hustings are tomorrow night and voting (internal, for party members in London) closes on Thursday. So if you want to vote for me to stand for either mayor or the London Assembly, crack on and join the party! If you want to know why I'm standing and why I believe I'd be a credible candidate, here are my reasons:

• My professional life is hugely varied - if you've read my other blogs you'll know I work with people with Parkinsons, people who are HIV+, mental health service users, recovering drug addicts and alcoholics, young migrants; I run creative arts and education projects; I facilitate interfaith dialogue; I teach sex and relationship education; I go into schools as a Role Model to combat homophobic bullying. I keep myself busy! This has given me insight not only into the needs of these different groups - who come from a vast array of backgrounds - but also into the local provision for different communities. Most importantly it means I am experienced in working with people,  discussing their needs and concerns, and supporting them to take positive action. I get on with people and I care about their lives.
• I’ve been involved with the party since the second meeting, firstly as a volunteer ‘Branch Maker’, supporting the set-up of the local branches across the UK, and also spoke at the first meeting of the Youth Branch. I planned and delivered a pilot workshop about #WE at Nonsuch High School, and have been invited to join the education group leading on school speaking materials.
• I care passionately about the fight for equality and believe gender inequality is a crazy anachronism in today’s society. From every-day sexism, to the gendering of emotions, the pay gap, to the threat of violence to women and girls - I see the impact of gender inequality all around me and I cannot sit back and let it continue. Only last week, an article in the Sunday Times suggested female doctors are causing the NHS to fail. Gahhh!!!! The issues behind this are systemic. But that means they can be systematically tackled (see #WE's 6 core objectives).
• I am a lively and confident person, who enjoys leading from the front, back and side, responding to the needs of the people I’m working with. I have strong values but am never evangelical; I always want to understand all the different sides of a debate and form a considered opinion, and I’m not too proud to change my mind.
• I strive to be authentic and a positive role model. When I regularly taught at a school in Lewisham, I decided to be honest about my sexuality when asked questions by the students, as I think it is crucial that young people have a normalized and human view of difference (and this also led to considerably reduced homophobic language in my classroom). In the workplace, I’m not afraid to be honest about my feelings and communicate them appropriately.
• The political arena could seriously do with some normal people, who aren't career politicians, who know the world outside Westminster. I am authentic. I'm nice. I'm not another man in a suit. 

VOTE KATE!!!!

Foxes and Feminism

I was brought up by parents who were (and still are) feminists. They taught us that no-one should be limited by their gender (or class, or race, or disability status, or sexuality, or all those other tick boxes you see on forms) but that, world over, they are. We were dressed in gender-neutral colours, we cooked, we gardened, we climbed trees, played football, played with Sylvanians... We wore clothes that were handed down from my sister, our baby-sitters, the boy down the road, the girl across the field - they were just clothes (I mostly favoured a heady combination of orange leggings and a lime green t-shirt). 

When I cut my hair short with the kitchen scissors behind the sofa, my dad neatened it up and I chose never to grow it long again. When I was seven, I decided I didn't want to wear a skirt or dress to school, so they bought me some trousers and shorts. I was the first girl at my primary school ever to wear trousers; people teased me but I didn't care. A couple of years later, a few more girls were wearing trousers. I bet if I went back now any girl who wanted to would be wearing them without question. What can I say? I'm a trend-setter. 

I went into a primary school in London quite recently and asked the pupils to divide the list of jobs I gave them into 'Jobs for Boys' and 'Jobs for Girls'. I felt like I had been transported back to the 1950s when they wrote:

BOYS

Farmer

Doctor

Lawyer

GIRLS

Nurse

Beautician

Receptionist

In a secondary school the other day, we discussed what words girls who are perceived to be sexually active get called. They said:

Slut

Sket

Whore

Hoe

Slapper

Slag

Thot

[700 more....]

I probably get new ones every month. Then I asked them what boys get called:

Player

Legend

Man-whore, man-sket, man-slut...

One of the girls looked at me and suddenly her pupils went big and she just said: "But that's not FAIR!" I looked back at her: "Of course it's not". And then I taught them the term 'double-standard' and we talked about why it might be there and how we could try and get rid of it.

What can I say? I think (I hope), I'm making my parents proud. Certainly my Dad's eyes went equally big when we had a conversation recently about to what extent gender was essential or socially constructed; he had a light-bulb flash the next morning and turned to me over breakfast and said: "I could wear a nice dress if I hadn't been socialised not to". Yes, Daddy, yes, you could.

A couple of weeks ago I got married. I heard afterwards that my mum had gone around telling the guests it was a 'feminist wedding'. Was it? I don't know - I'm not sure what the criteria would be. It was an excellent wedding. It was excellent because I got to marry the person I'm in love with. The WOMAN I'm in love with. And because it didn't cost too much, the food was great, we made it ourselves, people danced The Snake like children and sang 'She'll be coming round the mountain', getting sweaty and kicking off their shoes. We used, ignored, altered and borrowed traditions, based on if we liked them (no-one 'gave us away' *shudder* and our mums walked us down the aisle, but my father still gave a speech because he's ace at speeches). It was excellent because everyone there got to bear witness to our love and commitment to each other and to celebrate it with us. And because my beautiful wife made a speech about same sex marriage which made half the room cry (men and women), and we toasted Equal Love and sent our hopes and our love across the world to those who aren't as lucky as us and are punished for 'doing nothing more radical than loving each other' (as Gem said over the noise of tissues being madly scrabbled for). 

Posers.

Laura Bates, of Everyday Sexism Project fame, wrote in her article 'How to have a feminist wedding' in the Guardian last year: 'Until I told my friends I was getting married, I didn't know marriage and feminism could be considered mutually exclusive'. Marriage has been branded an out-of-date, patriarchal institution (cue comments about property, chattel etc), and although when I was little I used to design wedding dresses with a particularly artistic babysitter, I'm not sure if I ever thought I'd wear one. A friend of mine recently said, "I don't know why anyone bothers getting married any more. Unless it's a right that's previously been denied to them." Could I use this as a handy Get Out of Feminist Jail Free card? Should I need to?

For me, equality is about opportunity and choice, having the right to choose. Cool if I don't want to get married, but if I want to then why should my genetically identical twin be allowed to marry her boyfriend if I'm not allowed to marry my girlfriend? And people might say we're 'aping' heterosexuals (I found Straight Expectations a really grating read), but a) there's nothing like a really animalistic term to degrade someone, and b) why should commitment be considered 'heterosexual' anyway? Equality is partly the right to legal recognition, and although that might not sound sexy, I like that my wife and I are now legally family.

Growing up, my mother always said, on the topic of changing your name: "It's one man's name or another". She'd changed her name when she married, no biggie, no desperate attachment. Yet over the years her views have changed and she has now begun expressing her disappointment at any of her daughters changing their names upon marrying. I think my view has secretly always been more based in vanity than politics and I'd always thought I'd just go with the better name. Massey-Chase isn't super hard to beat (although some people have, in recent years, bizarrely expressed their love of it, when I was younger it was a bit of a yoke/joke). My mum also hadn't anticipated our rather unique situation. It's not one man's name or another. My wife, Gem, doesn't have her dad's surname. Or her maternal grandfather's. Her dad is a massive shit, so she changed it a few years ago to a name of her own choosing. And who doesn't like Fox(es)? I don't know whether I would have changed it or not if this wasn't the case. I quite like Massey-Chase now. As a freelancer, generating and collecting my own work, it is also my currency, my reputation. So - solution: I'm using both. 

I am Kate Massey-Chase for work.

I am Kate Fox at home. For me, Gem and the extended skulk. And, hopefully, one day we will have fox cubs and we will all share our own, chosen, name as a family.

So, yes: I am a feminist fox. 

It's amazing what you can find in google images...

Arts for All

Jennie Lee

Wednesday 25th February marked 50 years since Jennie Lee's white paper: A Policy for the Arts - First Steps. Lee was the arts minister in the 1964 Labour government of Harold Wilson, and it was the first (and is so far the only!) white paper that had been written on the arts. In it, she argues that the arts must occupy a central place in British life and be part of everyday life for children and adults, be embedded in our education system, recognised as an important industry, widely accessible, properly funded, and valued by society.

 

So, 50 years have passed. How far have we come? Mid February saw the publication of Warwick Commission's report on The Future of Cultural Value, which - although demonstrating that the arts are a significant contributor to the economy - also shows that arts and culture are being 'systematically removed from the UK education system'. Under our current government, the Education Secretary, Nicky Morgan, has said that 'Arts subjects limit career choices'; we've watched  Arts subjects being devalued, undermined and squeezed out of the curriculum, and at the same time provision outside of formal education reduced and dismantled due to funding cuts (from a regime of austerity which consistently harms the younger generation). As Paul Collard, Chief Executive at Creative Culture and Education, recently said:

'What is clear now is that young people, especially those in the less affluent areas, are not getting any opportunities at all, because arts... access for young people has been swept away. And it will only get worse.'

Cheerful reading. So, what shall we do? Make some noise! Make some art! DO SOMETHING! That was the call of Devoted and Disgruntled, spear-headed by Stella Duffy. With a twitter handle #ArtsPolicy50 ready to go viral (which, YAY, on 25/02/15 it DID!), the mission was clear: mark the anniversary; let people know why you think it's important; make a fuss.

I think it's important, so I celebrated, discussed and responded with two groups I was working with that week: a group of adults in recovery from various forms of addiction, who I do Creative Writing with at The Living Room, and a group of young migrant/refugee teenagers in South London, who I do Drama with for Attic Theatre Company. 

With my group at The Living Room, I decided to challenge both them and myself, and worked with them to write a group villanelle. A villanelle is a poetic form that is supposed to be one of the very hardest to write, and I thought this would not only give my group a lift, knowing how capable and talented they are, once we had written one, but would also be a nice way of demonstrating that a community group, gathered together for the purpose of recovery (rather than because they had chosen to attend an arts-based class) could be damn creative, that the arts could be of value to ANY community. And they did bloody well, so I'm going to let their work provide all the evidence I need....

Arts for All

We feel as if we're up against the wall,

This generation is under duress.

Art is for everyone. Art is for us all.

So we shall answer our heart's secret call

With a tight grip or with a sweet caress.

We feel as if we're up against the wall.

We know we're got the gumption and the gall

The talent, deep inside us, to impress.

Art is for everyone. Art is for us all.

It's not as if the order's very tall,

We're tired of giving more and getting less.

We feel as if we're up against the wall

From Cornish coast up to remote Rockall

We will push for proper, fair access.

Art is for everyone. Art is for us all.

Inside our schools and every village hall.

Fifty year's since Jennie Lee's address,

We feel as if we're up against the wall.

Art is for everyone. Art is for us all.

Before they left, many of them said they had felt 'lifted' by the experience, that they were 'proud' of what they'd achieved, that they felt 'lighter', 'invigorated', that they'd had 'fun'. Arts for all. It does matter.

Then on the day itself, I ran our Drama group with my colleague, Rob Lehmann, at SCOLA, with the young migrants. Many of the students have very little English, and come from all across the globe. Some have come from war-torn countries, some have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, most are in foster care. All agreed the arts are a fundamental part of their lives. We we had some fun, took some photos, and celebrated the importance of the arts in all of their lives. 

The Politics and Power of Words

Tuesday 16th was the launch of the poetry anthology I compiled for CoolTan Arts, Diagnosis: Hysteria? Prescription: Hysteria! - the final product of the women's poetry group I ran there last year. The event had the dual purpose of launching both our poetry book and also celebrating CoolTan's new venue. They're still on the Walworth Rd, but have just moved to the other side of the road, and have - drum roll, please - an INDOOR TOILET (luxury!) and other lovely things like windows and a view. 

I'll miss their old warehouse in some ways - it certainly had character - but think I can get over that in the face of not having to use a portaloo. Though I will miss the cat from the warehouse next door, who used to flirt with me whenever it was sunny. Meow. 

It was a great event, with fantastic artwork exhibited, and fancy guests, like the local GP/sexy TV doctor, Jonty Heaversedge. We also had readings from some of the women who contributed to the book. The Forward explains the title a bit (buy the book, buy the book!), but you can also check out CoolTan's newly launched online magazine, CoolFruit, where you can read an article by one of their members which takes a closer look at hysteria through the ages. Oh yeah, or buy the book.

In honour of the occasion, rather than reading one of my own poems from the anthology, as planned (I also read some of my students' poems, who couldn't make it), I instead read a poem I wrote on the tube on the way there, inspired by/in honour of the event. I feel quite strongly about some of the issues that surround our work and the lives of the country's most vulnerable - you'd never have guessed - such as the impact of political policies and the state of the mental health services - check out my article about how funding cuts, etc, are effecting places like CoolTan (after you've read my poem, obvs!).

Let me know what you think....

The Politics and Power of Words

Your 'skivers not strivers' rhetoric

Don't give a shit about our mental health

Disadvantaged for not having a dick

And not being born into wealth

I'm not hiding behind closed shutters

Don't believe what it says in the Mail

I'm doing my best, we're doing our best

Though it feels like you're helping us fail

We know the meaning of work

Have you pulled yourself up from the brink?

Have you hit rock bottom and started again?

Have you actually stopped to think

What your language is doing?

'Cos I'm not a 'hard-working family'

But that doesn't mean I'm not contributing

To this world, with love and integrity

So, I'll write emails like nobody's watching

Read the papers like I've never been hurt

Speak 'til people start listening

And believe in the power of words

Photos of the event by Amy Bradshaw

Koestler Trust exhibition: BoJo gets Massey-Chased

So, as promised:

I'd been out for dinner with the Massey-Chi (still working on the spelling of that; it rhymes with 'hi', not 'he', and is the plural of Massey-Chase. Obvs.), and was walking home via the Southbank. I was just cutting down the side of the BFI to get to Waterloo, and I spotted a funny blonde man. You know the sort, scruffy hair, looking like a blow-dried dandelion (I passionately hate Frankie Boyle, but this is a good description); you know: portly, posh, would look at home in a straining waistcoat with Daffy Ducks holding hunting rifles on; you know: the sort of gent who falls in rivers, gets stuck on zip-wires - possibly intentionally, to cultivate a loveable buffoon persona, wants to be PM*.... You know: BoJo.

 So, I spot Mr Mayor, and think hmmmm... Boris. There's lot's I'd like to chat to you about. There's lots on my mind. There's lots I want you to know, to understand, to appreciate. So, I walk up to him, all cajh (HOW DO YOU SPELL THIS? Casual, abbreviated). 'Hey Boris', I say. No, I don't. It went a bit like this:

Me: Hi, excuse me, good evening.

BJ: Hello (the story's loads better when you get to hear me do my best Boris voice; you'll jut have to imagine it)

Me: Have you just been to the Koestler Trust exhibition at the Southbank Centre? (of course he hadn't been; this was my well-planned/spontaneous opener - I'm a girl who thinks on her feet)

BJ: Pfhf, no, no, I've just been opening a library or something. Pfhf.

Me: Oh, well you really must go. It's an exhibition of art by offenders, and it's really fantastic. It was supposed to opened by Ken Clarke yesterday, but of course he couldn't...

BJ: Oh was it the other bloke?

Me: No, Chris Grayling didn't come (raising a pointed eye-brow). It was the minister...

BJ: For beatings and hangings?! Pfhfh.

Me: The Chief Inspector for Prisons, yes. But, yeah, it's really impressive.

BJ: Do you work in the industry then?

Me: Yes, yeah, prison arts, yeah.

BJ: Do you know Rachel Billington? (I think that's who he said)

Me: Ummmm.

BJ: Editor of Inside Time.

Me: Oh, yes, of course (I don't). I, ummm, I was asked to write for them once.

BJ: Or Danny.

Me: ?

BJ: Danny Kruger.

Me: The name rings a bell....

BJ: Chap always putting plays on in prisons and that.

Me: (nod, nod - later discover he's the Only Connect guy).

BJ: Anyhow, better get going.

Climbs on bike.

Me: Bye. Nice to talk to you. Good to see you wearing a helmet.**

He cycles off. I feel weirdly elated and chuckle to myself all the way home. I M-C'ed the BoJo. Politely and about prison arts. That's how the KMC rolls.  

*Check out the Daily Mash on BJ as PM. It's funny (forward slash terrifying) cos it's true: Britain demands amusing prime minister 

**Btw, that last comment was influenced by the knowledge that last time my girlfriend saw him cycling down the Grays Inn Rd, she thought, 'Who's that knob-end in a Travel For London bobble hat? Oh. Of course.'

Feeling a bit ova-cum: vaginas on my mind

For various reasons, vaginas have been on my mind a lot recently. I realise I'm laying myself open (arghh, will everything I write now be a pun??) to all sorts of lesbian jokes by saying this, but it's true. And they've mostly been on my mind due to work, health, and politics, rather than sex. Sorry. To be honest, if I'm thinking about sex, 'vagina' is not one of the words that springs to mind. It's an important word; it's a heavily politicised word; but, it's not exactly a sexy word, is it? See Caitlin Moran for a full debate on the topic. Actually, just read How to be a Woman (just being published in the US, so having a little publicity revival) - the whole thing. It's ace. An important tome for our time. And not scared to talk about vaginas (and feminism). As Moran succinctly puts in: 

Do you have a vagina? And Do you want to be in charge of it? If you said 'yes' to both then, congratulations! You're a feminist. 

I'm a feminist. And I can say the word VAGINA loud and clear quite happily. And have been a lot recently (in fact, I used the word 'trans-vaginal' in front of my house-mate yesterday, prompting her to cover her ears run from the room). But, for me, sex is about more than just anatomy; so, for now, let's leave sex by the door and enter the semantic cavern of the v-jj without the innuendo. 

So, why the vagina craze? Why now? Well, I'm sure it won't have escaped your politically-engaged notice that about a month and a half ago Vaginagate hit our headlines, when Michigan Democrat's Lisa Brown got banned from speaking on the House floor for using the (oh so very offensive) word VAGINA when discussing a bill on abortion . How very dare she use the anatomically correct word whilst discussing women's rights over their own bodies! Shocked at this ridiculous reaction, Brown then went on to perform The Vagina Monologues, with Eve Ensler, on the steps on the state's capital building in Lansing, and gave her own vagina monologue in The Guardian. Then we've also got the Pussy Riots, a Russian punk band who are facing trial after being charged with hooliganism, and imprisoned for the last five months, following their performance of a protest song in Moscow's main cathedral.

I've also been trying to find an appropriate title for a publication by one of the organisations I work for. And hit a big hymen-esque wall over who is happy to have the word 'Vagina' in the title. Thus, in an effort to placate (PlaKATE - what can I say? I'm a people-pleaser) everyone, I've been exploring other vag-themed alternatives. Any pun on labia, vulva, fanny, cunt, twat, fandango, clitoris, womb, ovum, uterus, vag....umm lady-garden....I can think of (although lots of people sadly have lady-patios, and if we're going down that path - or fallopian tube -  then surely we need to get the word 'merkin' in there somewhere?). Today I was sitting on the bus and had to google 'A Womb of One's Own' to confirm my suspicions that it will definitely have been used before (it has, of course), trying not to list all the various shit euphemisms I can think of for vagina out-loud. As Kylie would say, I can't get them out of my head. THE VAGINAS ARE TAKING OVER. Except they're not, 'cos just saying the word is enough to get you gagged in politics, and just having one is enough to mean you get paid less. They're not taking over, and that's not what feminism wants: we just want a fair deal, fair rights, equal pay, laws that give us the right to decide what happens to our bodies, a world without genital mutilation or sexual violence (against anyone, not just women)...

So, if you want to make a subtle(ish) hint in the board room, or fancy posting a package to a political leader or two, I'd recommend bringing in some cakes (as befits our gender), or subtly doing your nails (all women are good for), and seeing if they get the message. 

Vagina cupcakes

Vagina nail art, I stole from Miss Fox's blog

All that said, however, I don't want any ladies to leave feeling down about their vaginas. If you are, just take a moment to appreciate your vagina - we're not all lucky enough to have one; think of the poor mermaids....

2012 begins...

So, here we are at the end of the first week of the new year, with a 'Goodbye 2011' and 'Hello 2012'. And now we are in the post-festive January doldrums.

Although never a big fan of an overly-glitzy (read: expensive and potentially dissatisfying) NYE - instead much more excited by the prospect of an evening with Sherlock and Ab Fab on New Year's Day (huzzah!) - I do quite like the opportunity that the onslaught of a new year provides to take stock, make some plans, set some unrealistic targets, pause and revise them to more realistic ones. So, along with committing to being more tidy (which I have never quite managed to sustain to the standard I would like, despite resolving this every year since I was about 7 years old), eating a more varied diet and doing more exercise (I will try, this year, I will), I've also been staring at the empty pages that seem to fill most of my diary for the great 2012... Now, looking at the year ahead, I'm sorry Mr Cameron, but - and look away now anyone who will be aghast, horrified and other relevant synonyms by this - but I really would struggle to give less of a shit about the Olympics and the Diamond Jubilee. Apparently that is what I am supposed to be focusing on and excited about. Whoops.  

In his new year message, David Cameron tells us: 'This will be the year Britain will see the world and the world sees Britain'. Sadly, I think it's very unlikely that (once again) I will have enough money to see any of the world this year. Cue violins, obviously. And furthermore, in reference to this year's 'main events', a) I sort of feel like I have more pressing things to think about, like if I have enough money for food, and how to get rid of the damp round the windows, and why despite one thousand calls to Virgin our internet STILL doesn't work properly; and b) whenever we are told to focus on something, it is my instinctive reaction (blame it on the occasional units on Marxism throughout my formal education and reading The Guardian) to wonder what it is they are trying to get us to not focus on. Like wavy lines in pre-migraine vision, on the periphery, not centre stage. Unemployment? NHS reforms? Over-flowing prisons? Gosh, it's too depressing to even continue the list.

But wait! This is miserable. I don't want to be miserable! Can't start the year on a downer. Even if I have finished all my chocolate money and feel guilty that I haven't sent all my thank-you cards, it's January and cold and will probably get dark in about 5 minutes. Winter is brilliant! January must have a secret brilliance! The cold is brilliant! The world is brilliant!

OK, perhaps there is a middle-ground. I should get a bit more Buddhist. 'Global drama' and 'glory' aside, there are things to look forward to this year, not excluding Sunday night 'Sherlock' for the next two weeks. Look at those cheek-bones...

And I shall fill up some of the pages in my diary with wholesome 'crafternoons' with my sisters (where we do crafts - cos we're cool, innit), trips to free museums, and reading books I got for Christmas. January will not be dull! (And obviously applying for more jobs, to increase the likelihood of getting paid for work. I'm keen and reliable. Tell your friends.)

Post script: Interesting that Cameron kept using the word 'bold', which was the note I finished my last post on. He totally stole my word (which I stole off Michael Grandage). I'm glad he says he will be bold; I just hope it's in directions that are profitable for all.