I
f a man says, “I like a lady who’s independent and feisty”, pretty quickly I’m sucking in air through gritted teeth. A “lady” paints a picture of a woman being patronised as she’s being hoisted onto a pedestal. And the man who’s putting her on that pedestal may be slightly intimidated. Will he take a peak under her skirt while she’s on her pedestal being perfect? Call me a ferocious wildebeest, but I prefer a masculinity that gives me the space to screw up and, let’s face it, there’s not enough room to falter on a pedestal. There’s not There’s something about the L word that enough room implies I will need looking after, that I’m not to falter on a able to get things done alone, or competent pedestal enough to manage the big world. And it might be safer if I stick to trading recipes instead of investment shares. The words “she’s a great lady” make me run as fast as my G-string will allow without chafing. But what is an appropriate collective noun for a group of women? “Hello girls!” Maybe, if I’m in charge of a bunch of tap-dancing eight-year-olds in tutus. “Gals” conjures up a tragic tableau of breathless bimbos waiting for Mr Right. “Yo bitches” is fine if you’re a rapper and you “throw your hands in the air like you care”. “Chicks” sounds tiny and frail and – wait for it \ – diminishing. Why not just say, “Hey, what kind of a night are you lovely ‘Adam’s ribs’ having?” Adam’s rib no doubt haunted the 30,000 women whose signatures were on the “Monster Petition” offered to the Victorian Parliament in 1891 as evidence of widespread support for equal voting rights for women. (eddie morton)
ironic iconic
42 The weekly review \ July 25, 2012
RACHEL BERGER RECALLs MELBouRnE WoMEn, not LAdiEs!