From the Mail On Sunday;-
‘Well, it has been another terrific week for fully-grown women making an exhibition of themselves. There was Amy Winehouse, heading to a police station in tears, a ridiculous bow in her unwashed hair, mascara streaking down her pasty face.
There was former Popstars winner Suzanne Shaw tumbling out of a nightclub looking the worse for wear. There was Hillary Clinton, thinking she had a hope in hell against someone young, male and virile.
There was poor Katie Holmes, reportedly ensnared by a bizarre eating ritual.
But it was the normally sane, sober-suited and serene 35-year-old mother of two Gwyneth Paltrow at the London premiere of her new film, wearing a mini skirt and wobbling bare-legged in the latest in a succession of 7in stilettos, that made me type, Carrie Bradshaw-like, this rhetorical question into my laptop: Why do rich, clever, powerful women regress into weak little girls?
If you are a man, let me enlighten you. High heels hurt. They torture the balls of your feet and cramp your toes. They over-develop the muscles in your calves and throw out your back.
They mean you baulk, like tragic Grand National horse McKelvey at Becher’sBrook, when faced withsteps, cobbles and walking in general. They make you tired, whiny and fractious.
They encourage children on the bus to give up their seat because they think you are disabled. They force you to cling on to the arm of a man, any man, to stay upright. They are, thanks, of course, to the brainwashing cult of Sex And The City, ruinously expensive.
But, most importantly, they strip women of any vestige of power, dignity, common sense or sanity.
Feminist writer Polly Toynbee argued recently that concern about appearance harms the brain function of women. She reported findings that girls waiting to try on a swimsuit performed less well at maths than girls waiting to try on a jumper.
Why? Because when women, even tiny ones (in my support group for anorexics I have a new member aged eight), think about their naked bodies, they feel overwhelmingly negative, which dents confidence.
Toynbee cited a new trend called the ‘girlification’ of women. It is reinforced by the half-dressed trollops who masquerade as icons, such as the members of Girls Aloud, who would surely feel more at home plying their trade on the streets of Ipswich.
She claims it is the reason that women are still hopelessly marginalised, that those in their 40s still earn 20 per cent less than male counterparts, that the UK has the largest pay gap in Europe and that 90 per cent of top EU company board members are still men.
A skinny, big-eyed woman wobbling in giant shoes smacks creepily of a little girl raiding Mummy’s closet. The little girl can’t walk properly, or get away, and neither can we. But why, why, why do we need women to be preserved as defenceless, self-doubting infants?
It is hugely important to the economy in these turbulent times to ensure we keep on shopping (straight men, as we all know, never bother to buy anything).
The pink pound is no longer spent by gay men; having abandoned hedonism for civil partnerships, they have swapped the frivolous, ‘feminine’ consumerism they briefly bought into for investing in sensible, tangible things, like mid-20th Century furniture and arable land.
No, the pink pound is now exclusively female. And I don’t just mean we spend it in the girls’ sections of M&S and Primark, awash as they are withsickly pink tat, adorned with fluff and sequins.
Designer fashion – the current crop of giant bags, baby dolls, floral playsuits, the list goes on and on – might not be pink, but it is equally infantilising.
Whenever I see yet another pair of bondage shoe-boots costing £500, it is as if some man is patting me on the head, saying, ‘Don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing’, and it makes me wild that women are still stupid enough to buy this stuff.
But buy it we do, because we want to be loved.
High heels can never be ironic, for the same reason Sex And The City was never a satire: they both render women pathetic, cash poor, empty-headed – when your feet are killing you, you think of nothing else – man-chasers.
Not in a Jane Austen way (after all, Emma, Lizzie, Anne et al were nothing if not pragmatic manipulators) but in a way that means we now dress as though we are about to hang upside down, hairless, faux pre-pubescent legs wrapped around a pole. And that, surely, is not good.’
This is the danger of brainwashing half the population of the western hemisphere into believing myths of oppression that legitimise freedom of action without conscience or responsibility, as propagated by feminism.
After a brief regurgitation of the wage gap myth, the author explains how women are now oppressing themselves in their choice of clothing!
This is despite the fact that ‘lipstick feminists’ consider the right to dress seductively as (social rather than sexual) empowerment!
The one thing notably missing here amongst all this talk of ‘oppression’ and empowerment is discussion of behavioral responsibility , something that feminists prefer to sweep aside!
Perhaps straight men who ‘never buy anything’ should boycott the Mail On Sunday until Liz Jones discontinues her misandric generalisations, and directly challenges feminist cognitive dissonance with regard to the ‘clothing as oppression / empowerment’ dilemma that feminism has created!