A whole year of whimsicle fuckery! And what a year it’s been. For the uninitiated, Regretsy, brainchild of April Winchell, is the blog and book that’s about highlighting the ridiculous from Etsy and fields beyond. It’s the kind of site where someone turns up at a book signing dressed as a giant penis.
There’s more to it than just snark, though. Regretsy and readers strive to, in April’s words, “offset their asshole footprint”. By way of a for example, the Etsy seller (HiBird) who created the embroidered toilet paper and pantyliner pictured above was in some financial need after being featured , and with help from the Regretsy charity fund she was able to get a professional sewing machine to grow her business. According to the anniversary post today, tens of thousands of dollars have gone to charitable causes and sellers in need.
Literally, as I was writing this entry, Regretsy tweeted a request for a pair of boob-shaped floating candles for someone about to undergo a mastectomy. Obviously, there is therapeutic value in snark. I know Regretsy has seen me through my own comparatively puny difficulties…
Around the time that the Regretsy book came out, I was going through a bummer of a breakup. Well, I would consider it “a breakup”. Related parties might just consider it “screening their calls for a week”, but: my blog, my terminology. On the crappiest days where I couldn’t find the motivation to do anything, I could at least curl up with the Regretsy book and laugh at vaginal jewelry or fish taxidermied into squirrel suits. I feel like a big the-other-R-word to even compare myself to the people that I know Regretsy has helped but it’s a big group so I guess there’s room.
Thanks for the all the laughs so far, Regretsy! Looking forward to another year of fuckery.
This past week has been the very first Latina Week of Action for Reproductive Justice, as hosted by the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health, California Latinas for Reproductive Justice and The Colorado Organization for Latina Opportunity and Reproductive Rights, which has meant a number of fascinating blog articles on the topic of contraception, which is the week’s theme. There’s a great round-up to be found here.
I recommend all the articles at the link. As both a Latina and someone highly interested in reproductive justice, I found myself realizing as I read that I was wrongly envisioning those two identities as separate from each other. Of course reproductive justice is about all of our identities, whether they be as Latinas or daughters or mothers or LOST nerds or whatever. The piece I’m a Catholic Latina and I’m on the pill particularly articulated the point:
For me, it has been really important to begin asking questions about who we are as Latinas who support reproductive choice, and what our daily actions say about our identity as Latinas. For example, when I take my birth control every night, am I…a Latina taking birth control? An American taking birth control? A Catholic taking birth control? A law student taking birth control? A 25-year-old taking birth control? A consumer taking birth control? A reproductive justice advocate taking birth control? Someone’s girlfriend taking birth control? Someone’s daughter taking birth control?
In fact, I am all of those identities when I take birth control (and when I go shopping, and when I go to class, and when I watch The Daily Show, and when I lobby members of Congress, etc. etc.). And I can’t help but wonder whether my decision to take control of my fertility and decide whether, when, and how I’m going to have children is a larger statement about what kind of Latina, American, Catholic, law student, 25-year-old, consumer, reproductive justice advocate, girlfriend, and daughter I am. I think it is, and I hope that Latinas continue to explore how our identities intersect with and affect each other when we make reproductive decisions. None of this happens in a vacuum, and we can no longer accept the stereotypes that are perpetuated about us.
As for an answer to the week’s question, What’s your contraception story?, I’d like to pass along the news that came out this week about a new emergency contraception drug that’s effective for two days longer than Plan B:
U.S. government health experts voted Thursday to endorse a new type of morning-after contraceptive pill that works longer than existing products, concluding that it is safe and effective.
The unanimous recommendation from the Food and Drug Administration’s panel of reproductive health experts moves the pill ellaOne, which is approved in Europe, one step closer to the U.S. markets. The FDA is not required to follow the panel’s advice, although it often does.
EllaOne successfully reduces the chance of pregnancy for up to five days after sex. Plan B, the most widely used emergency contraceptive pill, is effective only if women take it within three days of having sex.
EllaOne has drawn criticism from anti-abortion groups, which say the drug is closer to an abortion pill than emergency contraception.
Oh, anti-abortion groups, will you ever let facts get in your way? Not as long as there are women’s reproductive destinies to control!
In just a few hours, nerds of all stripes will be converging on the con floor in San Diego. Would that I could be with them, jostling with the neckbeards for space…sadly it wasn’t in the cards this year. Since everyone will be lining up for Hall H for awhile yet, I thought I’d upload some of my old pics to get the old geekery going.
Sandra Lee has given me more hours of entertainment than any other Food Network personality. Of course, all she’s ever taught me is what NOT to do; there’s a reason, after all, why she’s known affectionately as Scamdra Lee and Aunt Shamdy and why people from Alton Brown to Anthony Bourdain have called her out. Which is why I found it as shocking as the defibrillation you’d need after a lifetime of Sandy’s food to read this article from foodie hero Michael Ruhlman: Becoming Better Cooks, or Why Sandra Lee Is Not Evil Incarnate.
Really, Ruhlman? His basic argument is the clichéd “You’ve gotta start somewhere!”:
Nay, brethren, I say watch Sandra Lee if you like her, make her recipes, and make them again, because eventually, you are going to want more, and you are going to want better. I don’t care where you start, only that you start.
How generous! Maybe I’m just a crank, but I have to wonder if Ruhlman’s ever actually SEEN Sandra’s travesties. Her specialty is “70% packaged/30% fresh ingredients and special touches”, by which she means she mixes up concoctions of the unhealthiest and most expensive packaged food so she has extra time to redecorate her kitchen to match every outfit (not kidding). While I admire Michael Ruhlman’s optimism that after falling prey to Sandy’s “cookings are HARD!” ethos, people will somehow magically evolve, there’s an entire industry out there that’s built around making you believe it, and I’m pretty sure that up until now they’re been winning.
I say no thanks, y’all. Let’s want better for ourselves.
April 16, 1971 – March 31, 1995
I find it to be a little morbid to be using the anniversary of someone’s death for remembrance, especially one as shocking and untimely as Selena’s, but it seems to be the consensus so far be it from me to rock the boat (RIP Aliyah!).
I was around 12 when Selena was killed; I identified with her so strongly in junior high school; I wrote a report on her biography in anticipation of the JLo movie, and I remember being upset that they’d cast a Nuyorican instead of a Mexican-American actress. It wasn’t so much that I was into Tejano music; I wasn’t and still am not, particularly, but I have a fondness for it from having been raised around it. All my aunts, however, loved her and you couldn’t climb into the cab of a beaten-up pickup or visit a bedroom that housed six or eight cousins without seeing Selena emblazoned on a cassette case or piece of carnival glass.
I remember taking particular note of the fact that Selena had learned her first songs in Spanish phonetically, since it was her second language rather than her first. She’d only recorded a few song in English and I was convinced that she’d have been a huge crossover hit if she’d lived. I guess I felt like if all the (white) kids at school recognized her as a star it would have meant something, since she looked like me and the people around me. The naivete of youth!
Just peep those nails, and the hoops! Love it ❤
I know, I know, my very last post was about Lady Gaga. Well, the one before that was about reproductive rights, so let’s say it’s a theme versus redundancy, okay?
So birthday girl Gaga (happy 24th, Mother Monster X!) joined up with Cyndi Lauper to design a lipstick for the MAC AIDS Fund’s Viva Glam campaign, which donates 100 percent of the proceeds from the sale of lipstick and lip gloss to the global fight against AIDS and HIV:
One of my favorite things about this campaign is how it emphasizes the feminine side of needing to be protected…Too often it seems to me like HIV protection is supposedly something that only gays, junkies and sluts are supposed to worry about. Of course that kind of stereotyping is total bullshit. Take it away, Gaga:
“We want women to feel strong and feel strong enough that they can remember to protect themselves. To have this lipstick as a reminder in your purse, that when your man is laying naked in bed, you go into the bathroom, you put your lipstick on, and you bring a condom out with you. There are no exceptions…This idea of negotiation before intercourse is this kind of ridiculous thing in the age that we’re living in. I would say never, but you must be in a loving, monogamous relationship or married. We’re not in an age when you can have irresponsible, condom-less sex.”
Fuck yeah to empowerment! And special edition MAC lipstick is a bonus; at only about $15, a tube of MAC is one of my surefire pick-me-ups if I’m feeling down, and when the profits go to charity it’s not even a guilty pleasure.
I could tell, sadly, that Gaga’s special edition shade was not going to suit my particular complexion (which, in my opinion somewhat awesomely, always gets delicious descriptors like cafe au lait, praline or caramel) but I had hopes for Cyndi’s shade as a heavy, creamy red…at least, that’s how it looks in the picture. It’s much more of a jewel tone, though, and it looks completely different on me that it apparently does on Ms. Lauper. I picked it up anyway, though!
I feel like a bit of an asshole posting such a cam-ho-tastic picture, but I suppose this won’t be much of a fashion blog if I don’t get over THAT inclination, so here we are:
So not the same color as in the ad. But cute in it’s own way, I thought.
Just as a little bonus, I thought it would be fun to take a look at a couple of the other Gaga looks that were the reason I was hoping to pick up a decent red lipstick, namely the wonderfully chola-tastic bitches in Telephone:
Amazingly, the very first YouTube tutorial I looked at about this turned out to be a great one. My favorite bit is the little droplet of cola still hanging precariously on the edge of the can on the right:
I’m a late convert to the Lady Gaga cult of personality. It wasn’t until the Bad Romance video that I paid enough attention to see that there was more to her drama-roma-ma than wearing a bunch of couture clothing and throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. But I’m a free enough bitch to admit when I’ve been wrong.
By now all interested parties have likely seen the new Telephone video featuring Beyoncé, but for posterior’s sake and for anyone that’s yet to watch it in sequence with the companion piece of Paparazzi, here we go:Vodpod videos no longer available. Vodpod videos no longer available.
That’s the hotness, right there. Recognize.