Imagine my chagrin when, not long after the Talkboy came out, Mattel (or whoever) put out what they believed to be an equal opportunity electronic: The Talkgirl.
Ohhhhhhhh, The Talkgirl. You haunt my nightmares.
Now this was nearly twenty years ago, so the details might not be totally exact, but if I recall, the Talkgirl was exactly like the Talkboy in every way.
But it was pink.

Oh, and the dot on the "i" was now a flower. How precious.
My outrage was clear. When I was younger I considered myself a tomboy. I requested short hair at the salon. I owned nothing with ruffles. I refused to play run-from-the-boys and instead played my own version, hip-check-the-boys. And I hated--HATED--the color pink.
At the time, I didn't really know why I hated it. All I knew was that it was girly, and anyone who embraced it also seemed to be embracing an attitude of "I'm too dainty for that" which annoyed me to no end.
I found myself confused: adults everywhere were proudly telling me that girls can do whatever boys can do. But then they were laughing at my short hair, rolling their eyes when I complained that lace is itchy, and handing me electronics that had been specially created for my daintiness.
I told you about a few of my asinine pet peeves back here but this one is my I'm Going To Change The World pet peeve: indoctrinating children into their socially afflicted gender roles.
Okay, and I've officially gotten too SOC 101. I'm going to take a step back.
Yes, I hate that kids are told how to be since birth. But the reason for this post actually came about because of Facebook ads. See, I thought that all this indoctrinating had stopped by now. That I am able to see sexism and point it out. But, indeed, I cannot. And I have learned this harsh reality through Facebook ads. Here was a random group of ads from today, one that is not atypical:

I don't know WHY Facebook continues to think that I am a mother, nor why they give me ads for Sorority Life. No matter how often I check the x and tell them "Irrelevant," here they are, day after day, informing me of who I SHOULD be...which is apparently a single mother in a sorority whose debt is piling so high she is willing to exploit her children.
Now before I show you the next set of ads, I must explain who these are for. They are for a cat. I needed another facebook account for (NERD ALERT) a flash game I play. So I made an account for my roommate's cat, Charlie. He has no other friends but me [EDIT: The Charlie in real life has many, many more], and his page has no use but to cheat at this game. However, Facebook requires certain information in order to have an account. Namely, age and sex. Charlie Cat is a male. And he was born the same year that I was, making him also 25. So, given the simple fact that these ads are for an imaginary 25 year old male, here are his ads:

I'm not sure which gender should feel more outraged: the girls who get "Tee hee! I'm a girl! Babies and chocolate and lipstick!" Or the boys who get "Rawr! I'm a boy! Burgers and war and babes!" All I know is, as a feminist I feel insulted. And as a human, I want that damn brownie.
3 comments:
You should seriously consider turning your blog into a book. I'd buy it...well only if you agree to sign it for me. :) Lova.
I read that gender identity is established at the age of two. TWO!
You should check out the Femme Den at Smartdesign - they're my heroes when it comes to fighting the 'shrink it and pink it' mentality.
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