”Mi lascia in pace, per favore”: la città di Roma

Uno dei posti dove mi è toccata vivere è Roma. Quella città vecchia e bellisima. A molti piace, a me invece... Di solito la chiamo una città per turisti e politici, e dico che per il resto della gente la cosa è più complicata.

I Studied This for Five Years. You Have an Opinion

One of my 'favourite' pastimes (as in, not) is when I find myself discussing something I know a lot about with a person who knows … less much about it. Being an anthropologist, 'something I know a lot about' will usually be along the lines of social and cultural determination, how do we define power, what are human rights really. That sort of thing. Gender is one of my favourite topics (for real), and so I spend a lot of time reading about it, thinking about it, researching, how do we understand female sexuality, how do we socially define women? I may not be the most expert in the whole wide world, but I dare say I do know my stuff.

Me, Myself, and My Gross and Hairy Legs

So, let's get to the good old debate on whether it is fair to expect women to shave their legs. Nay – whether it is actually expected of women, or they just all (or approx. 99% of them) do it because they feel like it and no societal pressure whatsoever involved.

The entire depilation debacle comes up once in a while, but today I'll only focus on the leg part.

The Day Someone Assumed I Was a Lesbian

One day I was having tea with a friend, as you do, and told him one of my super-funny stories (about telling a guy who was bothering me in a bar to get lost), at which point my friend stopped me with an incredulous look, exclaiming, ”wait, are you...?” He then proceeded to tell me in great detail how and where to find the only bar in Aarhus specifically catering to lesbians. Slightly confused, I nodded along and put in the occasional ”ok”, not really picking up why he was telling me this. Only later that day did it click that he was talking out of an assumption about my sexuality.

Walking Down the Street In Her 6 Inch Heels. Symbolic Femininity

You can vividly imagine it, you probably see it every day. Young and less young ladies walking along the streets, in high high high heels, with varying degrees of agility, looking more or less like ducks (sorry, but really). Most of the time, people reach their destination without incident, just once in a while someone smacks their face into the sidewalk and all look embarrassed and the lady gets to her feet and hurries on her way hoping nobody will remember her face. Because for some reason, this is almost invariably done by individuals of the female species. But what's the deal? Why would anybody do the duckwalk and willingly accept the increased risk of knocking out a couple of front teeth for no apparent reason?