1959 is not only the year my mother was born in. My mother, in fact, shares her birthday with another modern blond icon, the Barbie doll. For all my feminism and strong sense of idealism, I used to love playing with barbies up to the age of 10. I had loads of them and I used to love to mimic their lives as independent career women who magisterially juggled life, work, family and relationships always looking pretty as a picture - invincible, strong, sensitive, intelligent, opinionated, outspoken and beautiful modern women... That is what I aspired to be for most of my childhood and adult life: intelligent, successful, beautiful, always with a smile on my lips and a kind word to say. I am not quite sure on whether I did succeed in that intent, but I can say with confidence that in life I have no regrets because I have always given it my best and my all. Another thing that I am sure of is that I am not cut for fitting into the stereotype of a barbie doll : dumb, hare-brained, hollow and blond. Quite frankly, I am nothing like that and I will never be (not even for the love of a man). Maybe I am the only person who has ever felt like that - I don't expect everyone to understand - but it frustrates the life out of me (strictly speaking) when a. some women allow themselves to be considered as silly barbie girls, mere fashion accessories beside a weak man who expects to look better, cleverer, more macho beside a woman who is only good to look at, talk at, use. b. Men who, for all of their talk, are truly insecure, manipulative, gutless idiots who haven't got the balls to stand up to intelligent members of the opposite sex?! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! That issue really bothers me. In the same hand though I can somehow understand why the postmodern Man may feel emasculated by his contemporary allegedly impeccable bionic women. As most of you know I have been living in Manchester for just over two years. Before I moved here little did I know about the vibrant homosexual community who predominates the city. I have said it before that my encounter with the Mancunian gay community has been a massive eye-opener for my rather traditionalist views. Especially amongst the gay women I noticed a high professionalism, stead-fastness, loyalty and strength at various levels in life. Amongst the gay women I also observed a great sense of loneliness, insecurity, weakness, confusion, disillusionment. Nonetheless, it is interesting to observe how most heterosexual men would judge those women: all they can see in them is their unfailing confidence, like as if they never had a moment of weakness, a care in the world. It takes a truly extraordinary man to love a confident woman and allow her to release the beauty and affection within.
*** The title of the post is the title of a song by The White Stripes***