Contour Queen: The Power Of Makeup Revisited

A few years ago, I wrote a piece called “Send In The Clowns”. As a photography student who was enthralled by feminism and bodily autonomy, I captured my thoughts on makeup through a series of pictures that expressed my confusion- whether weaing makeup was feminist or not. Two years on, I would’ve never thought that…

Hairy, Angry Feminist: Why I Put Down My Razor

As of October last year, I stopped shaving my armpits. Of course, I’d heard of other feminists doing it, and thought it was pretty damn awesome. Yet, I never mustered up the strength to throw out my disposable razors and go “au naturale.” Oddly enough, I hadn’t shaved my legs consistently for about a year…

Our Lady of Forgiveness

When I was fourteen, I received a death threat through a MySpace message from a disgruntled eighth grade girl. This was my first introduction to “girl hate.” The hostility, anxiety, and sheer terror that resulted from this message created an internalized hatred for women within me that would take me years to overcome. My first…

Oh, Boy (Band): My Newfound Love/Hate Relationship with One Direction

I would like to blame Paul Rudd (sorry–Dan Charles) for my past six months of non-stop One Direction jamming in my car, at work, and at virtually every other possible opportunity. Prior to their Saturday Night Live appearance in December, when I discovered that they were not bad at all at singing or at looking nice,…