The calculus of femininity (1/3)

Picture of a woman standing on a street at night. She is wearing a vest and tie, a short skirt, and a long... jacket.

~Bummmmm baduhdadum — baduhdaduhdaaaduuuhdum~

Let’s talk about street harassment.

Consider this a content warning for sexual content, strong language, and, of course, men harassing women on the street.

Here’s the post I started two weeks ago:

So I was going to write a post about how much I like sun-dresses; I went for a run on Wednesday and it’s been warm out, and I felt good about myself, and all my pants need to be laundered anyway, so I wore a dress to go to my writing group. Dresses are great! While I am pretty much a shirt + trousers person most of the time, I have a couple of dresses that make me feel really awesome and I really enjoy wearing them, as I was enjoying wearing this one. (I think it really needs a belt, though, otherwise it makes me look a little like a Hobbit wearing a sack. A very flowery sack.)

And then a guy on the street was hassling women.

He was ambling along in front of me. I saw him step out in front of a woman, the way a sports player would step out in front of someone to block them getting to a goal, you know — wide-legged stance, hands out, a lunge as much as anything — and then straightened up again. I had my headphones in, but I could hear him saying something like “Heeeeey!” to her. She smiled at him and kept walking.

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