Tuesday, November 30, 2004

girl power redux

So I’ve been spending a lot of time reading girl-power self-help books lately. Not grrl-power; girl power, the kind spelled with pink type. This movement definitely has a central theme: You are a FABULOUS sister-princess-diva-kitten-goddess-bitch (with a heart over the i) and you should clearly paint your nails, go Shopping, and manipulate the hell out of every man in sight because after all, that’s what they’re there for, honey darlin shugah pie.

You’ve got to admit, there’s something great about world domination, Barbie-style. I love the idea of Machiavelli as a sweater girl. But, after many long nights experimenting with bubble bath and pink lipstick, I have come to the conclusion that the powder puff path to power is not for me.

I am going to start my own girl-centric self-help movement. Instead of being a Sister-Princess-Diva-Kitten-Goddess-Bitch (with a heart over the i), I believe I’ll be a Maiden-Aunt-Dowager-Duchess-Valkyrie- Lady-With-All-Those-Cats-Goddess-Bitch (no heart; I think the extra hyphens make up for it). I haven’t decided whether to be FABULOUS yet or not. I’m really looking for something less verbal-sequins and more comfy. Maybe frumptastic would look good in all caps….

As a FRUMPTASTIC Mai- damn, that title is really unnecessarily involved, isn’t it? As a Frump Queen, your life will be gravy. Frump Queens are exempt from all personal grooming except the clean stuff and the fun stuff: you can paint your nails if you want, but you never have to shave. Frump Queens don’t have to Shop, worrying about sizes and styles. We stick to buying snarky T-shirts off CafePress and blowing paychecks at Half Price Books. Frump Queens really don’t give a shit about manipulating men; just talking to them is much less work. The only things a Frump Queen needs to manipulate are a corkscrew and a dildo.

I am just now codifying the basic tenets of Frump Queendom, but I am not its founding mother. Oh, no. I boldly go where many lovely ladies have gone before. Consider Sophie Tucker, Moms Mabley, Katharine Hepburn, Dorothy Parker, Gertrude Stein. As you can see, Frumpdom is not a state of dishabille, it’s a state of mind. The point is not to be unglamorous, but to be cool as shit whether you’ve got your makeup on or not. You don’t have to sparkle, you don’t have to smile. You can spend five days in your pajamas and still throw a helluva party on day six. You can be exactly as powerful and perfect in your brother’s old sweatpants, talking dirty politics, as you are in your mom’s pearl earrings, talking about how you’re “not really a feminist.” And while last night’s hot date was probably kickass, you can choose to stay home tonight with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a bottle of Monopolowxczyws, and you’ll still be sexy. It’s all good.

Join me, ladies! Throw off the tyranny of the drugstore beauty-aisle and quit worrying about how to get a man, get ahead, or get a buck. Just sit back and do what you feel like doing, and it’ll all come together. Break out the fuzzy slippers and let the revolution begin!