26 September 2006
critique of capitalist female reason
Women can't be friends under capitalism. Any possible motivating cause for solidarity has been assimilated effortlessly into the perky slipstream of passive-aggressive aspiration and self-indulgent consumerism. It turns out women are really good at capitalism - 'you want it all - you can have it all!' It won't be pretty, but then you can cope. Besides, there's always chocolate, bubble baths, girly films, white wine-induced cirrhosis, your rampant rabbit, clothes-induced credit card debt and a new haircut to fill a life. You go, girl!
You can either bitch about other women, or you can fuck each other (for better or worse), but there is no neutrality, no real affection. It's heart-breaking.
It's a shame. It's structural. In practice it looks like this: a) the conspiratorial commitment/belief in some sort of 'other of the other'-type gaze. It's not the male gaze, exactly (whatever that is), but the necessarily confusing, 'male gaze that men don't have', i.e. the hyper-feminised (i.e. void) pure form of judgement that results (practically) in ... nothing - other than perpetual anxiety. It's a sort of big female other...There's nothing worse than 'the judgement of women'. And it's everywhere...what is she wearing? Look at her make-up! Stop talking to my boyfriend! Who does she think she is?
Somewhere, a woman is enjoying herself, Good God...her suspicious laughter resonates round the hollow echo-chamber of female capitalist reason. And everyone feels bad.
