why i'm still thinking about barbie
judy chicago + barbie = feminism AF.
Last night I visited Judy Chicago’s installation at The New Museum, titled “HERSTORY.” She changed her last name to reflect her hometown sometime in the 1970s, her peak era. The 1970s were a glorious time for feminists. Chicago’s unbreakable spirit glowed throughout the exhibits, whether through the embroidered vagina tapestries or spray-painted car hoods.
I was worried about bringing my boyfriend to this show (despite his many, many assurances) because I am very used to being the Hysterical Feminist Man-Hater She Demon. It’s a title I’ve embraced as I’ve grown, to be completely honest, but I worry about it being slightly off-putting when it comes to new friends.
Feminism gets a really, really bad reputation. In part because of people who like, smear their period blood on public surfaces and in part because of men who say we’re trying to take over the world, but I’ve always been of a different mindset. To me, it’s about being able to relax. During this exhibit, I immediately connected with Chicago’s suffering embellished in her art. All I’ve ever known feminism to be is equality: equal pay, equal crime rates, equal razor prices. I’d like to be able to live my life without the over-looming threat of Men on my shoulder, but I can’t.
This is why Barbie was, and is so important to me.
I saw Barbie in theaters while in Paris. I was surrounded by women and little girls in pink and sparkles. I told myself I wasn’t wearing pink because I didn’t pack any, but the truth is that I don’t own any pink clothes. I wear mostly black, or dark colors because I do like it (and the confidence an all-black outfit brings me - I feel like a super spy sometimes) but I think it started with an urge to be taken seriously.
The changing of the narrative that Barbie will hold for young girls is so incredibly important to me. Barbie was demonized as a doll who promoted horrible body standards when I was growing up. She represented everything that Men wanted us to be, and everything I could never be. But now, Barbie is about a lovely pink movie with realistic body standards and America Ferrera monologues.
It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.
You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people.
You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood.
But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful.
You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.
I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then I don't even know.
I’m not saying this monologue is perfect. It’s not. It’s surface-level feminism, the realization that most girls come to by age 10, but even so – I think it’s incredibly important to have someone say it on such a large platform. Greta Gerwig told The Atlantic that when Ferrera ran through the monologue, everyone on set started crying.
Even though it’s something we all know, it’s different when someone says it out loud with some conviction. Gerwig’s films are all about “how girls learn to be women.” (I physically ran into Greta Gerwig on the street the other day, and I’m incredibly disappointed with myself that I could manage to do was mumble a sorry and continue my way to French. I’m a people pleaser and I didn’t want to bother her but I wish I said something more… angelic. Cheeky, snarky, funny.)
Yes, it’s on the nose and obvious, but not to the 12-year-old girls who are growing up right now. And to watch women skating around and being smart and funny and pretty and bossy was something that I can’t stop thinking about.
Feminists in 1970 and feminists now couldn’t be more different but also couldn’t be simpler. We want equality, we want to relax, and there’s that. I liked Barbie and HERSTORY because of the simplified view that they share on feminism.
god is a woman and all that. Like I know I’m great and I don’t need a man and whatever. But it would be nice to be able to walk home by myself at night. That’s all I’m saying.