You’re fourteen and you’re reading Larry Niven’s “The Protector” because it’s your father’s favorite book and you like your father and you think he has good taste and the creature on the cover of the book looks interesting and you want to know what it’s about. And in it the female character does something better than the male character – because she’s been doing it her whole life and he’s only just learned – and he gets mad that she’s better at it than him. And you don’t understand why he would be mad about that, because, logically, she’d be better at it than him. She’s done it more. And he’s got a picture of a woman painted on the inside of his spacesuit, like a pinup girl, and it bothers you.
But you’re fourteen and you don’t know how to put this into words.
And then you’re fifteen and you’re reading “Orphans of the Sky” because it’s by a famous sci-fi author and it’s about a lost generation ship and how cool is that?!? but the women on the ship aren’t given a name until they’re married and you spend more time wondering what people call those women up until their marriage than you do focusing on the rest of the story. Even though this tidbit of information has nothing to do with the plot line of the story and is only brought up once in passing.
But it’s a random thing to get worked up about in an otherwise all right book.
Then you’re sixteen and you read “Dune” because your brother gave it to you for Christmas and it’s one of those books you have to read to earn your geek card. You spend an entire afternoon arguing over who is the main character – Paul or Jessica. And the more you contend Jessica, the more he says Paul, and you can’t make him see how the real hero is her. And you love Chani cause she’s tough and good with a knife, but at the end of the day, her killing Paul’s challengers is just a way to degrade them because those weenies lost to a girl.
Then you’re seventeen and you don’t want to read “Stranger in a Strange Land” after the first seventy pages because something about it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. All of this talk of water-brothers. You can’t even pin it down.
And then you’re eighteen and you’ve given up on classic sci-fi, but that doesn’t stop your brother or your father from trying to get you to read more.
Even when you bring them the books and bring them the passages and show them how the authors didn’t treat women like people.
Your brother says, “Well, that was because of the time it was written in.”
You get all worked up because these men couldn’t imagine a world in which women were equal, in which women were empowered and intelligent and literate and capable.
You tell him – this, this is science fiction. This is all about imagining the world that could be and they couldn’t stand back long enough and dare to imagine how, not only technology would grow in time, but society would grow.
But he blows you off because he can’t understand how it feels to be fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen and desperately wanting to like the books your father likes, because your father has good taste, and being unable to, because most of those books tell you that you’re not a full person in ways that are too subtle to put into words. It’s all cognitive dissonance: a little like a song played a bit out of tempo – enough that you recognize it’s off, but not enough to pin down what exactly is wrong.
And then one day you’re twenty-two and studying sociology and some kind teacher finally gives you the words to explain all those little feelings that built and penned around inside of you for years.
It’s like the world clicking into place.
And that’s something your brother never had to struggle with.
This is an excellent post to keep in mind when you see another recent post criticizing the current trend of dystopian sci-fi and going on about how sci-fi used to be about hope and wonder.
Manicure Tip #1: If you ever flood your cuticles or get too much nail polish under your nails while you’re wrapping the tips, or don’t have the dexterity to paint a smooth, intentional gap, you can just take an orange stick or something and kind of run it along the edge of your cuticle while the polish is still wet to make a “cut” that separates the polish from your skin. This is helpful because if you “glue” your cuticle to your nail bed, the polish will peel right off because it didn’t adhere correctly. You want a slight gap, even if it’s just enough that the area still moves slightly without being stuck in place by polish.
Manicure Tip #2: If you pull out your pocket knife and use the flathead screwdriver to clear nail polish out of your cuticles in front of a straight dude, he WILL lecture you about how that’s not what it’s for, as though he legitimately thinks you don’t know what the fuck a MANLY, MANLY screwdriver is and were such a HORRIBLE, FEMININE airhead that you assumed your cute little knifey poo came with nail care tools just because it also has a file.
Manicure Tip #3: Like, seriously, who insults the intelligence of someone with a knife.
Manicure Tip #4: I mean, I didn’t stab the dude, but I super could’ve.
Manicure Tip #5: Seriously, man, you think I don’t know what a screwdriver is because I wear nail polish? It’s called overcoming functional fixedness, ya’ dick.
Manicure Tip #6: It should be legal to stab people, but just like. A little bit. Like maybe you cut a button off of their shirt or fuck up their bangs and you go to court like, “This fucker for reals thought I didn’t know what a screwdriver was.”
Manicure Tip #7: The L.A. Colors “Color Last” nail polishes are really nice if you go for the lighter colours, but the dark ones have that kind of jelly-looking transparency that makes them hard to get opaque in under four coats. But at less than two dollars a bottle, you really can’t be too upset about it. Brush size is a little much, hence the cuticle flooding, but still a good product for the price point.
Their boobs move. Like…realistically move. As in, the way actual breasts would motion if a woman made that movement without an over the top exaggeration and the camera is framed in a way so that it’s clearly not supposed to be sexual the way most anime would stage it. The scenes in question are meant to be taken seriously so the animators and direction is take things seriously. Either it’s just a character walking down a hall or clapping her hands.
If this were any other action/adventure anime, the camera angle would’ve been something like this for Winry’s introduction:
This is weird, but what I find so sexy about Riza is, well… How she isn’t sexualized. Like, she isn’t a pure sex object in nonstop sexy outfits. She’s a beautiful military woman, and she dresses appropriately for the role. Along with that she’s NEVER used as the ‘sexy distraction’ trope that women often are used for. She has a good role, she’s a fighter, but also has a kind heart for her friends.
That and more are reasons Riza is my favorite female anime character, and FMAB is my favorite anime.
Well said my friend.
I think there was only one instance of jiggle physics and that was with lust but that was when they were trying to make a joke about havoc having a thing for boobs and the joke was more about havoc than lust having big breasts.
“You fell into my booby trap” (proceeds to paralyze Havoc afterwards)
What I also love is that their boobs are in equal proportion to every other body part. Like, yeah, a character might have bigger boobs, but she also had a big waist/hips/legs/etc to go with it, so the largeness doesn’t feel fake. Plus, they never draw attention to the sexual stuff, and the only exception was the joke with Havoc. And it was posed in a way that made it feel like less of a raunchy boob joke and more of a joke on Havoc and how his attraction to boobs is what led him to be deceived, which doesn’t leave female viewers uncomfortable, or feeling like their body is constantly the butt of a joke, like some other animes do
That’s a good point that I didn’t realize. All of characters in the show have equally proportioned bodies.
Ed’s muscles get larger as he gets older but never reaches John Cena level of jacked since he’s still under 6 feet tall. He’s always presented as ripped and not ‘bulky’ like Sig or Alex.
Riza is about the same height as adult Ed, but they have different body styles thus the word for her would be toned. She’s still lean but her muscles and body shape are the same aren’t ‘compact’.
Fmab follows the basic body designs for males and female characters and doesn’t exaggerate a specific feature to the point where it’s comedic. It makes it’s bed, and lies in it.
Every time I see a girl in just about any other action/adventure (shonen) anime I just think:
“is your back okay? You need a doctor? Hey Thomas! Call Lucy a chiropractor!”
or better yet:
“Good Lord! Get this man a sandwich!”
The only real exception to the whole body proportion thing is ALEX LOUIS ARMSTRONG
But his ridiculously bulky muscles are used largely as a comedic element, in which the overly toned nature of his body is commented on as the “freak of nature” kind of idea and definitely not presented as if that’s some kind of expectation for anyone else in the show.
(Because oh my god, it’s so hard, and everyone’s all like stop feeling so bad about yourself and it’s like how???)
Be naked. A lot. Sleep naked. Have sex naked. Eat cereal naked. (Or naked and wrapped in a sheet. Favorite thing.)
Follow beautiful, confident, (un-photoshopped) body-positive babes on the Internet. Unfollow anything that makes you feel insecure. Exposure is key. You’re not going to get it if you don’t seek it out, because the media sucks and wants us to feel like shit about ourselves so they can take our money. (Some hashtags to follow: #effyourbeautystandards #bootyrevolution #blackisbeautiful #transisbeautiful #wheelchairlife #fatkini #fatshion)
Lingerie. Next best thing to being naked.
Self care, babe. Different for everyone. (Me? Showers, books, shaving my legs, nature walks, dark lipstick, good playlists, clean rooms, candles, sexy time.)
Get ready in your underwear. Boobs = happiness.
Self portraits. Be pro-selfie. Take a million selfies. Take sexy selfies. Take no makeup selfies. Take bad angle silly selfies. Take artsy tripod selfies. Take everything-is-on-point selfies. You’re gorgeous; document your gorgeousness. You don’t even need to post them.
Stop with the self deprecationnnnn. Pleeeeaseeee. It’s hard to control your thoughts love, I know, but you can control what you say. NEVER insult yourself out loud. Dare I say compliment yourself out loud? (And if you can, do your best to try to body-positive-ify your thoughts too.)
Sex (including solo sexy time), wine, and chocolate. In that order.
Share the body love. Compliment your girlfriends. Cultivate a nonjudgemental, supportive, lift-each-other-up “we’re so cute” friend group. Everyone’s insecure. Compliment your besties. And strangers, too. Be that person that makes everyone feel good about themselves when they’re around.
Good luck gorgeous. It’s a battle. We gotta unlearn all this societal bullshit.
Reblogging cuz this is vital. Especially the point on self-deprecation. Stop that shit now. It is a glamour-don’t, a welcome sign for fuck ass ppl.
Steel Phoenix Studios 