Maureen Dowd and the New Modern Woman
Let me preface this by saying that I have a sort of hypothetical crush on Maureen-Dowd-as-she-probably-was-10-to-20-years-ago.
Here's why: "I longed for style and wit. I loved the Art Deco glamour of 30's movies. I wanted to dance the Continental like Fred and Ginger in white hotel suites; drink martinis like Myrna Loy and William Powell; live the life of a screwball heroine like Katharine Hepburn, wearing a gold lamé gown cut on the bias, cavorting with Cary Grant, strolling along Fifth Avenue with my pet leopard." [basically the inverse of me] Dowd is the kind of gal who sneers at this advice her mother gives her--"Sarcasm is dangerous. Avoid it altogether."
The rest of the article explores the 'predicament of the modern woman' post-first (and second) wave feminism. It's pretty good, but very long.
Dowd's point is this: "the aroma of male power is an aphrodisiac for women, but the perfume of female power is a turnoff for men. It took women a few decades to realize that everything they were doing to advance themselves in the boardroom could be sabotaging their chances in the bedroom, that evolution was lagging behind equality."
She quotes a disturbing statistic: "A 2005 report by researchers at four British universities indicated that a high I.Q. hampers a woman's chance to marry, while it is a plus for men. The prospect for marriage increased by 35 percent for guys for each 16-point increase in I.Q.; for women, there is a 40 percent drop for each 16-point rise."
She ends with this: Having boomeranged once, will women do it again in a couple of decades? If we flash forward to 2030, will we see all those young women who thought trying to Have It All was a pointless slog, now middle-aged and stranded in suburbia, popping Ativan, struggling with rebellious teenagers, deserted by husbands for younger babes, unable to get back into a work force they never tried to be part of?
It's easy to picture a surreally familiar scene when women realize they bought into a raw deal and old trap. With no power or money or independence, they'll be mere domestic robots, lasering their legs and waxing their floors - or vice versa - and desperately seeking a new Betty Friedan.
Maybe because I'm at the, well losing end of the game women are playing again, I'd like to stick up and say, no. I don't think women should have to revert to the mind games of playing hard to get if they don't want to. I'd like to think there are enough guys like me who honestly would rather be chased than chaser, who hate girls playing hard to get, and who never go for playing dumb or unsure. Aren't there any guys beside me who think coquettishness is the female equivalent of an octopus spraying ink in your face? [Note: Coquettishness is different from coyness. Coy is cool. With me]
I'd like to think that there are actually some guys out there that are confident enough in their mental faculties that they actually enjoy being shown up by a woman, that they may actually like being intimidated a little. Yeah. Intimidated. Because the struggle to earn someone's interest and respect can be exhilirating too. Or at least I would imagine. I don't seem to be earning much interest or respect these days.
Maybe this is one of the reasons I didn't join a frat. The bastards have it too easy. They have built a system that is essentially a Golden Corral meat market. I prefer something with a bit more even footing than a walk to a buffet table. Isn't there something wrong with a culture that finds capable women revolting?
Ok, this is getting embarrassing, but I would appreciate any thoughts. Maybe all this means is that if I wait ten years, I'll have my pick of the creme de la creme. But then, having my pick is exactly what I don't want any way.
Here's why: "I longed for style and wit. I loved the Art Deco glamour of 30's movies. I wanted to dance the Continental like Fred and Ginger in white hotel suites; drink martinis like Myrna Loy and William Powell; live the life of a screwball heroine like Katharine Hepburn, wearing a gold lamé gown cut on the bias, cavorting with Cary Grant, strolling along Fifth Avenue with my pet leopard." [basically the inverse of me] Dowd is the kind of gal who sneers at this advice her mother gives her--"Sarcasm is dangerous. Avoid it altogether."
The rest of the article explores the 'predicament of the modern woman' post-first (and second) wave feminism. It's pretty good, but very long.
Dowd's point is this: "the aroma of male power is an aphrodisiac for women, but the perfume of female power is a turnoff for men. It took women a few decades to realize that everything they were doing to advance themselves in the boardroom could be sabotaging their chances in the bedroom, that evolution was lagging behind equality."
She quotes a disturbing statistic: "A 2005 report by researchers at four British universities indicated that a high I.Q. hampers a woman's chance to marry, while it is a plus for men. The prospect for marriage increased by 35 percent for guys for each 16-point increase in I.Q.; for women, there is a 40 percent drop for each 16-point rise."
She ends with this: Having boomeranged once, will women do it again in a couple of decades? If we flash forward to 2030, will we see all those young women who thought trying to Have It All was a pointless slog, now middle-aged and stranded in suburbia, popping Ativan, struggling with rebellious teenagers, deserted by husbands for younger babes, unable to get back into a work force they never tried to be part of?
It's easy to picture a surreally familiar scene when women realize they bought into a raw deal and old trap. With no power or money or independence, they'll be mere domestic robots, lasering their legs and waxing their floors - or vice versa - and desperately seeking a new Betty Friedan.
Maybe because I'm at the, well losing end of the game women are playing again, I'd like to stick up and say, no. I don't think women should have to revert to the mind games of playing hard to get if they don't want to. I'd like to think there are enough guys like me who honestly would rather be chased than chaser, who hate girls playing hard to get, and who never go for playing dumb or unsure. Aren't there any guys beside me who think coquettishness is the female equivalent of an octopus spraying ink in your face? [Note: Coquettishness is different from coyness. Coy is cool. With me]
I'd like to think that there are actually some guys out there that are confident enough in their mental faculties that they actually enjoy being shown up by a woman, that they may actually like being intimidated a little. Yeah. Intimidated. Because the struggle to earn someone's interest and respect can be exhilirating too. Or at least I would imagine. I don't seem to be earning much interest or respect these days.
Maybe this is one of the reasons I didn't join a frat. The bastards have it too easy. They have built a system that is essentially a Golden Corral meat market. I prefer something with a bit more even footing than a walk to a buffet table. Isn't there something wrong with a culture that finds capable women revolting?
Ok, this is getting embarrassing, but I would appreciate any thoughts. Maybe all this means is that if I wait ten years, I'll have my pick of the creme de la creme. But then, having my pick is exactly what I don't want any way.
posted by Andrew at 8:47 PM
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