Accessories.

I had a topic in mind for this evening.

And then I was sent an article about the smear campaign launched at The Trevor Project.

And then, I shifted gears.

And then I heard the rumor about the overturn of Roe v. Wade.

And then, I shifted gears again.

And then, I realized I had to go back to where I started.

I had this epiphany whereas I realized that when women are hired in my industry, they are introduced based on their personality.

She is so nice.

You are really going to like her.

She is very chill.

She seems easy to get along with.

But men? Men are introduced based on their qualifications.

He has a ton of experience.

He really knows his shit.

He was very successful doing _______ at his last shop.

Just typing that out makes me fucking cringe, but it’s the truth. Women are judged on whether they are inherently likable and men are judged on whether they are qualified.

Don’t get me wrong, as there’s something comforting about considering the likability of a candidate. And yet, there’s something gross about that dichotomy.

To be clear, this situation does not exist because these women are not qualified (well, I mean sometimes they aren’t, but that goes for anyone of any gender). Rather, this is the way of things because of the overarching sentiment that women are accessories. Second-class citizens.

We should judge handbags on how much storage they have and how comfortable they are to lug around, but oh no, we judge our bags by their prettiness. Judith Leiber sparkly duck purse? Doesn’t fit shit, but how cayute?!

We pretend that we’ve grown beyond this sentiment but we haven’t.

And if you think the purse analogy is offensive, don’t even get me started on the LGBTQ+ community. They are the phone charms on the social ladder. Fine for a sparkly moment and then easily tucked away. Abandoned. Oh, and people with any skin tone a shade darker than ivory. And there’s a whole list of folks waiting in the ‘unwanted’ wing just behind everyone else.

As a society, we have zero concept with how to abide, protect, defend, and stand by these humans, by each other, because we see people, certain people, as accessories and we are shallow, vapid whores who base allegiances and affiliations on what’s trendy in that one teensy beat.

We are more concerned with what Kim Kardashian wore to the Met Gala than the systematic destruction of the rights of women and the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities. It’s seemingly easier to focus on a finely woven corset, a sparkly gossamer train, or the perfect chapeau.

Committing to a lewk is not controversial. Perhaps others don’t care for Billie’s dress, but also, no one will give a fuck two days from now. And you’re entitled to your own opinion. And, it’s a fucking dress.

What if I scream into the still air that I want the right to control my own damn body? What if I loudly proclaim the horrifying injustice of the persecution of gay and trans youth? What if I can’t understand how a good friend still gets talked to like human waste when he goes to purchase a house because he ISN’T WHITE?!

How do I take that back? How can I change my mind? Do I really want to be a champion of rights, or do I just want to be a wayward fashion admirer?

I’m being punchy, but you get it right?

At the rate we are going as a human whole, I’m not feeling positive about our ability to morph into activated social activists.

Yet, I’m not ready to give up.

We have to start with understanding. Acknowledgment. Compassion. And yes, a small helping of rage. Actually, sorry, we need to double down on the anger right now. We do. We need to be fueled. We need to be fiery. We need to be ready to fight against lunacy. Irrelevance. Obstinance. Lies. Discrimination. Hatred. Fear. So much fucking fear that it scares me to contemplate going up against it. And yet, I will. I plan to. We have to.

We have to get real pissed off. Solidly pissed. Good and stewed. Steamed. Outraged. We have to imagine a world where it only works for one kind of person and then, we have to decide that’s not fucking good enough. Not now. Not ever.

You wanna dip into the fashion vaults for a good 80s or 90s redo? Sure. Let’s do it. Love a good moment with neon or scrunch socks. I’ll gladly bring back the baby tee trend.

You want to go back in time to scoop up our privilege and prejudice? Fuck no. Take your dated attitudes shove them up your tight, closed asses. Thanks.

Oh, if you need this: I don’t hate men. I love men. I hate hatred. I loathe closed-minded attitudes. I despise oppression. It sets my soul on fire and then breaks my heart. Every time. Every. Time.

Let’s do better.

Please.

Don’t make me rage write again, because I will. Actually, I will. I plan to.

Do. Better.

Sigh.

xx (felt like you needed extra today)

L.