Amongst the opening lines you’ll hear: “now, let’s settle the matter of how to undress properly in front of your husband”.
It was one of those days were you flicker between a YouTube video and the other when I found Trixie. The video’s name is: How to Undress In Front of Your Husband, it features Miss Barry and Trixie, can you get an idea of where is this going?
Two things (amongst many others) caught my attention: 1. The fact that Miss Barry is called “Miss” while Trixie, well, she’s just called Trixie as if she didn’t deserve any titles other than her name while her neighbour could be called miss with all property; 2. That one is set to be all women’s role model and the other to represent the opposite and what men don’t want in their bedrooms (was their line of thought; let’s antagonise females?); one is quite slim while the other is even compared to the SS Normandy at some point in the video, I don’t think I have to tell you who is who, right?
“Oh no Trixie, please! Don’t forget your bedroom manners!
Now back in the Barry’s boudoir, now I’m sure we will see something, for Miss Barry has excellent bedroom manners”
When did all this start? When did we start denigrating women’s bodies up to the point where us, as society, imprinted in our collective soul that ‘big ladies’ are not wanted in men’s rooms? As if we don’t deserve to be loved, just because of our shape and size, because all of us ‘Trixies’ are disgusting, without manners (whatever that word really means), with no sense of self-respect and without grace and femininity?
Even though, this is a 1950’s propaganda of a society we vow not to live in anymore, it is sad and upsetting, really sad and upsetting, to know we are just blunt to our own faults caused in the past 60+ years and that we haven’t really evolved. We keep discriminating, tagging, classifying, defining, pointing out others, judging, condemning, calling names, etc…and now we hide these aggressions in so-called social media. Comments on Facebook, memes, Instagram pictures, Twitter, and so on.
How is this possible?
Miss Great Britain was de-crowned because of her public sexual encounter and she was totally unaware that her title had been taken away. I don’t know what her contract details were, I don’t know what is she supposed to be as Miss G.B., I don’t even watch the show she was on and I don’t know what it is about and have no idea of how explicit her performance was, but I know this: everybody is pointing at HER and what SHE did, but nothing, not a SINGLE comment I’ve read about this has mentioned the guy.
“There are several names to call the kind of women who does what she did on national TV” – a ‘lady’ said, but why aren’t there many names to call the kind of men who do that on the television too? Ah wait, I forget, manners in the bedroom are for girls not guys, no, just a second, didn’t we say that was back in the 50’s?
In a world where men can be publicly exposed cheaters and yet be forgotten in just about five minutes, women are forbidden from doing the same and up to this day we still talk about Monroe’s love affairs, don’t we? In a world where best sellers are about submissive girls, consenting physical abuse (before she wasn’t convinced and after, she didn’t seem to have enjoyed it) as the greatest and noblest thing we can do is save and change mankind.
In a world where there is no gender parity in political circles, economical circles, managerial circles; where some of us still believe we cannot take over those roles because we don’t have the courage, the personality, the mathematical nor the physical skills, our collective soul as a gender has been imprinted with those ideas and insecurities.
In this world we live in now, where we get to connect and be together as never before; where we can establish relationships and connexions with other women, like never before; in a world where we can be powerful and work hand-in-hand with men, we can really build an equal, non-discriminating, modern society. In this world, where I choose to stand up and empower myself, where I decide to put positive energy into every little thing I do, where I decide to cast spells of success and happiness on those around me whether I know them or not, where I choose not to be judgemental and especially not to think, write or speak ill words against other human beings, especially women. I don’t know who they are, where have they been, where are they coming from or where are they going to, but this supportive world is where I want to live, this is the world I CHOOSE to live in.
In the end, Trixie was comfortably lying on her bed, with the room made a mess and all her clothes spread around, but God knows she was happy as she was free to do pleased her. So, in a world where we ask all Trixies to be more Miss Barry, I’m damn happy to being a Trixie.