Why we should all be feminists

Until a couple of years ago I used to take pride in calling myself an 'antifeminist.' I had my reasons, which are the same reasons that make me a feminist now, but I was still wrong.

I've wanted to write this post since the word 'feminist' started to be butchered by the Women against Feminism movement--not that it hadn't been before, but this has more or less given voice to something we all thought at some point in our lives: feminists are those man-hating, hairy and frustrated lesbians who make life impossible with their radical ideas and crazy acts. At least, the very existence of the website is a constant reminder that there is something wrong in this vision, and I admire Emma Watson for pointing this out. It is the speech she delivered at the UN for #HeForShe that further inspired my post. The full version can be found here. It is a very powerful speech, and I agree with everything she said. But it is not only the speech itself that was powerful. But let's do this in order.

Why was I wrong? I was more or less one of those. I have always believed in gender equality, but I have always thought that there were flaws in the feminist movement, that it contradicted itself and its very purpose, and that what we should seek for is equality through the display of equality, and not by contrast. More or less, this is what I still believe, and it is where I was wrong: feminism seeks equality, not domination, over men. Real feminists don't belittle men, and they don't diminish their value to strengthen their own. I understand how it may appear so sometimes, and I understand that maybe in the past more 'radical' action was needed to be noticed, but this goes against feminist ideas in the first place, or at least my own vision of feminism (I have never read anything about feminism, so I welcome criticism here). Real strength is in choice.

I am talking about choice here because, as loose as my ideas may sound, I think that every woman's decisions should be the product of choice. I think that a woman can be a feminist and still be sexualised, if she wants to (Beyoncé is the living example). I think a woman can be a pornstar, if her choice to be one hasn't been conditioned by a certain environment. On the other hand, I think a woman should be hairy if she wants to, or a stay-home mum if she wants to, or she should be free to ojectivise men when men are objectivising women and not be ashamed to do so, if this is what she wants. It is obvious that gender equality is still (!) not there, even when such silly examples come to mind, but it is in this that feminism can help - the good feminism, the real one, the one that doesn't seek equality through victimism but through pure and honest egalitarianism (which is probably the best word to describe the movement.)

And as Emma Watson explains, real feminism does not forget about men. Men are very often the victims of a form of sexism that kills on both sides, and men should also be valued for what they do, because they don't "just do it" only because they're men. So everyone should be a feminist - or an egalitarian.

As I mentioned before, her speech is different, and powerful. Yes, her words are powerful, but it is her who makes the difference here in two ways: the words of a celebrity who inspires the young generations are powerful because it is those generations that are affected by the demonisation of the word, and those words can reach to a larger audience with better results. Plus, her words may also work for that slice of her fans who drool over her and sexualise her: she is hot and we're all happy to say that, but she's also a feminist, and she can be both without sounding like an oxymoron.

This blog needs playlists

I love lists, but I love playlists more.

I had surgery on my leg yesterday, and the fact that I'm all wrapped up in bandages - mummy-like - forces me to bed, and you know what happens when you could be lazy and enjoy your lazy time--you end up wanting to do stuff. I can't complain about being here now, I just hope I'll get to finish this post, since

I've realised I have dozens and dozens of drafts stored on here, and I'll try to finish and hopefully post a couple of those in the next few days.

But it's Spotify I want to write about today. I've started creating playlists based on moods some time ago, but labelling them as 'moods' is a bit of an understatement--my playlists are complex, like moods really are, so here's me trying to phrase them. Hope you like them.



Disagio prêt-à-porter was the first one I created. 'Disagio' roughly translates into 'unease' or 'discomfort,' but it's used by the cool kids nowadays as a state of being - social anxiety(?), nihilism(?), not sure. Anyway, I listen to this playlist to find catharsis when I'm angry, sad, or both, and want to revel in my misery. All these songs are miserable, some angrier, some sadder, some screamy, some ballad-like. They all have miserable titles/verses, but the result of listening to them is reinvigorating rather than just saddening per se. I feel strong and I feel nothing.




Highlights of the playlist:

• The way Penfold scream "And if you were here, then I would take you everywhere"
• The sense of incompleteness in Pedro the Lion's "Almost there / it's on the tip of my tongue / an it never goes away / it never comes to stay"
• The verse "She puts the weights into my little heart" - how can something so short break your heart so harshly?
• "When they love you / and they will / tell them all they'll love in my shadow" - this kills me each time
• "I want a lover I don't have to love / I want a girl who's too sad to give a fuck"
• The metaphor of the "Twin Size Mattress"
•  Good Friday and Degausser - among the most depressing things I've ever heard in my life

 Soothe your_self is a less complex playlist; as the title says, it's meant to be soothing, and I usually listen to it when I'm reading or walking home at night, to pamper my mind and get ready to sleep when I've got too many thoughts running in circles. It was first inspired by the album Horn of Plenty by Grizzly Bear and then I added some post-rock tunes to build a soothing atmosphere.






Speeding into Nowhere is a playlist I created when I discovered Turn on the Summer by The Rutabega; I wanted this song in a playlist so bad that I created one for it; it's still a pretty short one, and I'm constantly looking for something to add to it. It's the playlist of travelling - not necessarily in a literal sense -, of seasons, of the passing of time, of longing and of nostalgia yet with an upbeat note to it.





There are a couple more playlists on my profile you can take a look at if you like, but I won't post them here because they don't mean so much to me.
I hope you liked these ones and I wasn't too shitty at expressing my 'feelings' through the music I listen to, and I'd love to hear any suggestions on stuff to add to the playlists.

Thanks for making it 'till the end of the post!
Claudia

Solitudes

"Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can."

I go take photos instead.

I have learnt to think of Edinburgh as a place where loneliness is enhanced by the surrounding architecture, which is magnificent in its beauty and therefore increases the distance between one solitude and another. I felt it too when I was walking home one night, and decided to start capturing it.

a sense of belonging, nowhere

I've been reading a lot of terrible things about Italian people fleeing the country recently. Usually written by those who stay. And those who stay get to write on important newspapers, which makes me think, oh, well, easy for you to just talk shit about other people when maybe you're the guy who licked a few arses here and there to be in the position you are, and maybe yes, you might be that guy we never want to be, and that guy who makes our country worse than it already is.

When I say we I mean "those who have left"--and no, I don't mean it in a patriotic yet emptied-out sense. Honestly, I don't see any reason why I would see myself as part of any stupid group of people who do something - what, exactly? I am the out-group and I'm okay with that. I don't like to criticise Italians on their behaviour nor do I utter useless words about the situation because "now I can, cos I see things from the outside"; on the other hand, I don't like to complain about the food or the weather because "hey, in Italy everything is perfect and I miss my mum's lasagna". I don't surround myself with Italians nor do I avoid them when they're around me. And some people are stupid, and when I say this I'm thinking of all those spoiled kids who go to London because they want to live in da city cos they're kool. But mainly, the reason why I feel like an out-group is because I don't see a clear boundary in all this shite people are talking about, cos I don't see why "nationality" should be what everything revolves around.

Call me shallow or call me disrespectful, but honestly I don't care. I don't believe in a country that is "mine", these are names we give to things and borders we create. There are a lot of things I like about Italy, but I don't feel the place I was born in is the place I belong in. I left because I had practical reasons not to stay; also, it is understandable why people want to leave: they feel unsatisfied with their lives, and they know that what they have been working hard for is not going to pay them back in the short run. And everyone should understand that. And I'm not saying that I don't miss Italy, but the problem is that I don't actually miss Italy; I miss the people I love and those I don't, I miss San Lorenzo with its junkies, I miss the good pasta and the good old bidet. These are my things and I don't want anyone to generalise everything out of this in the name of a "nation".

Probably other expats will not feel the same way, but I don't like it when someone identifies me with a "stereotyped" group. If someone wants to leave, they have their right to do so. And very often those people are not sick and angry at their "country", they're not doing it to show off; very often they just want to get what they deserve. What you deserve is not always at hand, so you run after it. I feel more satisfied when I can do something and that makes me happy. If one day what I want to do is in Italy, I'll go back; if what I want to do is in Greenland, I'll go to Greenland. 

In the meantime, you haters and know-it-all's go get a life instead of lecturing people on how to behave and how to be "good Italians".

Bad Luck Marla

Uh, hi.

Haven't been here in a long time (you don't say), so here's a summary of what Edinburgh has turned me into.

 

You know that meme thing, Bad Luck Brian? That's me as a PG student. Eh.

 

 

The first day I visited the university, one of those awkward "get-in-the-room-meet-random-people-cos-fuck-you-that's-why" events happened. They give you a cup of coffee and put a sticker on you so that you can recognise the other wild animals in your programme and yes, of course, talk to them. One of the first memories I have from that day is me getting there late, finding the one free seat, leaving my bag there just for a second so I could grab a cup of tea; when I turned around, this guys was sitting on my bag. Oh well.

This is what Edinburgh has been doing to me. And if you think this is a happy post, er--

 

 Actually, it all started from this: all the signs were there. Infinite tragedy.

 

Then classes started. As did my lifelong relationship with the library. And with brain dysfunctions.  

Jesus looks at me every time I walk past it. And yes, that pink thread threatens my mental stability four times a day.

 

  This is a clear and concise description of what's been going on in my head. And an epiphany. 

 

I met the worst people on earth. Both those in the picture and the ones behind the camera. 

 

Can't say nicer things about my flatmates. This was a trap: "Hey Claudia, can you come here a second? I've got something to ask you"....

 

Did I mention brain dysfunctions?  

 

But this wasn't even my final form (Suicide Bunnies are for tragedy scale comparison).

 

 That's it.

Also:

Just chillin' in the ambulance, bitches.

Pre-surgery selfie. In great shape!

 

  The hospital experience changed my life forever. The last day I spent there they shoved me in a room with three ninety-year-old ladies. Including one whose only goal in life was to get on her feet and aimlessly walk to the bathroom and pee with the door open. Needless to say, the bathroom was just across for me. And she wore a gown, one of those that are open in the back. 

First day of Physiotherapy? Of course, the ward was just across from this...

 

Then I went to Glasgow to see Patrick Wolf, and of course it was raining (a rare phenomenon here in Scotland). Pret a Manger was all I saw before the gig.

 

This is dedicated to all the people who have asked me "Are you having fun in Edinburgh?" 

 

Me: "Oh, it's raining, let's take the big umbrella so it won't break".
Scotland: "NOPE. Because fuck you, that's why."

 

I spent the entire Christmas break at the university, watching the sun rise every morning, living with the Californian time zone and making friends with the security guys. Not the stinky guys though. Oh, I also wrote four papers. This is me showing off my mane to the camera.  

 

And of course, I haven't had the time to get back to a normal life and my Christmas break officially lasted five days. A new semester is starting. And if you think this is a happy ending, I'd like you to know that

The National, it's been emotional

It started early, 9:10 PM and they were already on stage, it wasn't even dark yet.

Squalor Victoria for a start. The beginning was beautiful but a bit cold, there was too much of a sea of love between the band and the audience, as one of the Dessner pointed out - don't remember which one.

Matt asked us to stand after Bloodbuzz Ohio. I ran. Still upstairs, but at least I had a better view. Too sad we did so only after that song.

Time to shake up things and conquer the whole stage.

He drinks. A lot.

I don't remember which song this was, it was all very overwhelming.

I particularly liked their need for audience feedback, it makes them more human and less distant, and you know they love what they're doing.

The Dessners are cute.

Also, Matt Berninger is a superhero.

Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks was the best ending possible. Very touching.

I'm left speechless, "it's been emotional" - as that film would say.

I'm not that emotional, though. There must be an axiom that reads:

"It's not a real concert if you don't see any Unknown Pleasures t-shirts." There you go.

a year ago in Birmingham

I remember starting this blog while I was in Birmingham, and coming back here was the first thing I thought about when reminded of the anniversary.
"It's been a year". This time last year I remember struggling with my outfit, it was too hot that day. Pistachio gelato to welcome me. And Rome, again.

I feel melancholic when I think about those days, and those about to come. It gives me a lot to think about since it's been a long process I wouldn't have gone through if I hadn't gone through the Erasmus experience. I'm headed to Edinburgh in September, which adds another piece to the moving-every-year jigsaw.
I must admit I'm lost and confused. There are always a lot of people you have to leave behind, and it hurts even if you keep in touch with them. They end up being those friends you check on on your Facebook news feed every now and then and it's not the same as seeing them face to face. They become friends of memories rather than experiences.
Also, it prevents you from making plans. Who knows where I'll be next year, maybe I don't want to know.
And maybe I'll be back here in a year's time; after all I'm okay with this cruel life, the idea of settling smothers me but at the same time I can't wait to find the place where I'll be living in the future.
Maybe this incompleteness will fade away, maybe.


This was my song last year, and still applies now.

Every leaving means heading somewhere new.