Boobs, booze and Muslim feminists - Eureka Street

We all know this image: A young, orange-tinted woman, dressed in a pale satin ribbon, teeters drunkenly in soaring heels. She is eating chips, smearing the sauce on her knuckles, and is occasionally yelling obscenities at her boyfriend. We laugh at her, but forgive her, because, well, it's been a long day of drinking at the races. Her boyfriend is just as drunk, and is urinating at a tram stop. But for some reason we don't really notice him.

Although her behaviour indicates she'd rather be wearing thongs and jeans, she feels compelled to dress like a sexual Christmas tree for the Spring Carnival. This compulsion probably has a number of roots, one being an earnest desire to be desired. Another more cynical reason is that her desire to be desired on the terms of the depth of her cleavage is nominated by the designs of the men in her society, and upheld by the women.

Read the artic le by Ellena Savage here