Marissa Mayer looked girly and submissive in Vogue - but that's not the problem.

photo: Vogue

You may have seen the recent picture of Marissa Mayer (right) posing sexily on a lounging chair, all dolled up and wearing heels, in the latest issue of Vogue. Some people say it's a step backwards for women, that a male CEO would be photographed in a more powerful position.

That second part is true. And we should definitely work towards overhauling the societal structures that make it normal for women to be - and be photographed as - submissive while men are dominant.

But Marissa Mayer is allowed to pose in Vogue however she wants. By critiquing her every move, in a way that doesn't happen to men, we are reinforcing the notion that a woman's actions can and should be policed. The idea of policing a woman's actions takes lots of forms - saying a friend's shirt is too provocative, that a drunk woman on the street probably should be more careful, that a powerful female CEO's appearance in a magazine should follow a specific set of standards. These things are all policing a woman's looks and, because actions go into making up how you look, their actions.

When we police a woman's appearance, we are telling her that her body does not belong to her. When you say that a woman shouldn't be wearing something or looking a certain way, you send the message that you know what she should do, that you know what's best for her, that you should have the power to make her decisions - in essence, that you - perhaps representing societal norms as a whole - own her.

We can hate on Marissa Mayer for her hit and miss workplace policies,but to hate on her for how she chooses to appear in a photograph is different. I work hard to not police the actions of other women, even if I think I'm doing it for the "right" feminist reasons. I don't try to convince my engaged friends to keep their last names like I did if they like the idea of a new last name from the man they love. If my family members are able and willing to be stay-at-home moms, more power to them. And if a good friend wants to wear a shirt that shows her cleavage, I'm not going to police her actions and "warn" her that her shirt might give men the wrong idea or something like that, because it's up to the men around her not to perceive her shirt as an invitation. 

This is also why I'm not going to say anything about Marissa Mayer's photograph in Vogue. If getting dolled up and doing what the professionals at Vogue told her to do is what made her feel comfortable appearing in one of the most famous publications on the planet, then fine. I have my personal opinions about what it all means in the grander scheme of things, but I'm not going to police the actions of one individual woman making her own choices - that's easy to do but ultimately ineffective and creating any change. Instead, I'm going to work harder against the things that matter on a larger scale. I'm going to make sure I'm not quiet and submissive in my workplace, even when that feels like the safe thing to do. I'm going to focus my efforts on not letting my husband be the default decision maker, which for whatever messed up reasons sometimes feels like the natural thing to both of us. I choose to wear minimal or no make up so that worry a little less about if I'm getting somewhere because of my appearance rather than my abilities. These are my choices, and they reflect where I am at my part of the journey and work towards equality. But other woman are in different places, have different comfort levels, and feel differently about these issues, and that's ok.

Recently a teenage family member I was spending a few days with asked me if a shirt that was somewhat see-through was "ok" to wear out. I said "if you're comfortable it's fine by me" even though I wanted so badly to tell her that she wasn't an object for strange men's viewing pleasure and could she for God's sake put on an opaque shirt? I didn't say this because I did the same sort of thing when I was a teenager, and nothing anyone said could get through to me. I had to endure the lewd stares and comments for a few years before I realized, on my own terms, that I didn't want to dress that way anymore. The decision was and is much more meaningful and absolute than if others had policed my clothing; if my mom had forced me to wear different clothes, it would have been a short-term win for her but I may have changed the second I was out of her sight. Instead, she (usually) let me wear what I wanted, and I came to a deeper and more permanent decision about the way I dress.

The call to action is this: don't police the actions of other women. This is a short-sighted and usually ineffective way to make change. It's easy to call out a stranger for taking a "step backwards" for women everywhere; it's harder but more effective to work against the societal and cultural standards that surround her choice in the first place. Double down on your own efforts. Cultivate a powerful stance and presence, focus your efforts on your abilities over appearance, or do whatever it is that works against the things you dislike in Marissa Mayer that you're personally comfortable with. Think about what you can do, in your own life, to work against the messed up culture that puts one of America's most powerful woman in a submissive and sexual pose for her photoshoot.

What feminism does not equal: aloneness, lesbianism, or man-hating

Feminism can be considered a dirty word. For much of the population, it brings to mind cranky old bra burners who hate on men and never get married.

Just look at Katy Parry's recent rejection of the word as she accepted the Billboard Woman of the Year award - so ironic - or Taylor Swift saying she doesn't believe in "guys versus girls."

Now Taylor, I love your music, but you're hitting on a misinformed belief about feminism commonly held by women in our age group: guys versus girls.

Simply put, no. This is not what feminism is about. Feminism is, at it's most basic definition, about liberation and equality. Not being better, or having power over men, or oppressing them so they can have a taste of their own medicine. It's not about being a single cat lady at a rally burning your bra because men are evil.

In fact, you can be a self-identified feminist and still wind up married to the man of your dreams - I know because I'm a feminist who just married the man of my dreams. And no, we did not meet at a bra-burning rally. That doesn't happen any more, and in fact, it never did. So put that stereotype out of your mind.

My husband is a man who is on his way to becoming a chef, loves pit bulls, hip hop music, and scary movies. He grew up in a typical household in Wisconsin without any notable hardcore feminists around him. He dated girls in high school and college, met yours truly at the age of 21, and proposed to her in typical proposal fashion a year and a half later. He's never identified as a feminist, but obviously I see it in him or I wouldn't be here today, sitting on a couch in the apartment we share on Chicago's west side. When we talked about him being a feminist, he listened to what I had to say and then said "yeah, I suppose I am a feminist then."

Like it was no big deal.

Because guess what? It isn't. You can be a feminist and still date cool guys. You can be a feminist and wear a bra, wear make up, have "girl talk" with your friends, and be heartbroken over a breakup.

the summer I became a feminist

I wasn't born a feminist. Rather, it has evolved over time. Specifically, a switch went off in my head during the summer after my junior year of college, during one really hot (temperature-wise) seven week period of working at a summer program for high schoolers.

There was a heat wave in New Haven and despite all the great things about Yale being one of the world's most prestigious universities blah blah blah, their dorms do not have air conditioning. As an instructor/RA at the summer program being hosted there, I was contractually bound to sleep in a boiling little room on the second floor, peruse the Quad in search of kids heat-resistent enough to play four square, and roam around New Haven during their free time just to make sure they were being resepectful in the stores and restaurants. Needless to say, other than the few hours I spent in air-conditioned classrooms teaching, I was by default hot, sweaty, and irritated.

It was that heat that got me out of my comfort zone and into the realization there there was more to me than a prettily made up face.

City Year, Diversity, and Trayvon Martin

This a bold statement, but I'm going to make it: if everyone did a City Year, the Trayvon Martin tragedy wouldn't have occurred.

This is a departure from my usual focus on action-oriented feminism, but it's a departure I feel obliged to make. There are so many reasons why national service should be a part of every young person's life, but they are often discussed in the abstract. This is an opportunity for what I believe is a real-life, concrete example.

City Year is a national education-focused non-profit organization that does work in closing the achievement gap and is powered by AmeriCorps. Young idealists sign on for a year of full-time service in urban schools, serving students who are slipping through the cracks and run the risk of not having the skills necessary to graduate high school. Please note that I do not represent City Year Inc. and everything written here are my words and views, and not those of the organization.

As I'm sure you can guess, this puts City Year Corps Member in contact with a whole lot of diversity. Not only does the organization do an incredible job maintaining a diverse Corps in each of the 25 cities it serves, but the public partner schools are usually either racially diverse or mainly made up of minorities. For someone like me - a white, suburban woman of middle class Wisconsin - it was the first time I had meaningful contact with a diverse population.

Why More Men Having Plastic Surgery Does Not Equal Gender Equality

photo: prweb.com

While on a flight back from a work conference in Boston, I realized the limitations of my new Nook, other than being among the least sexy, if most useful, of my wedding presents: you can’t read during take-off and landing. Desperate, I picked up an in-flight magazines called American Way. And between the articles about people who dress up like mermaids and Armie Hammer was a piece titled “Nip/Tuck Secrets: Plastic Surgery AMONG MALES is booming, but it’s not one of those things guys want to discuss.”

Having recently read an amazing book titled “Beauty Junkies” by Alex Kuczynski, about America’s addiction to plastic surgery and cosmetic enhancement (non-surgical procedures like Botox injections), I was intrigued. The article starts off with the story of code name Brian, who had a surgery to give him a stronger-looking chin and is quoted saying “vanity these days is not just for women…I hate to say it, but I think a lot of people do judge you based on how you look. This is something for myself, not anybody else.”

Oh really? Before I move onto all the other seriously flawed statements in this article, of which there are plenty, I want to address the notion of plastic surgery being done “for myself, not anybody else.”

The Iowa Supreme Court and one "irristible" dental assistant

In case you missed it under the news of George Zimmerman's trial and the Asiana plan crash, the upheld it's previous ruling that it was lawful for a man to fire his dental assistant for being "irresistible." The woman in question, Melissa Nelson, was a dental assistant who has the misfortune of being attractive to her boss. The court found that Melissa Nelson's termination did not amount to discrimination, and that it was over a matter of a personal relationship, and not gender bias.

The Sacramento Bee sums it up nicely: "The all-male court found that bosses can fire employees they see as threats to their marriages, even if the subordinates have not engaged in flirtatious or other inappropriate behavior. The court said such firings do not count as illegal sex discrimination because they are motivated by feelings, not gender."

A Case Against the TV: Women and Consumerism

photo: jamesmaystock.com

While reading the mind-melting, life-changing book The Story of Stuff by Annie Leonard, an expert in international sustainability and environmental health issues, I thought a lot about the impact of our consumer-driven way of life on women specifically. In chapter 4, Consumption, she details out some of the more familiar parts of the story of Stuff: how advertising plays with our heads and gets us to buy more junk while we engage TV watching (one of our favorite pastimes), how we have to work more to have the money to buy this Stuff, and how the bulk of it is completely and utterly useless brickabrack that ends up either in a landfill or collecting dust in your closet. (She calls this the "work-watch-spend" cycle, and it's a treadmill most of us live on for much of our lives.)

I spent a good few years on that treadmill myself. I'm not here to explain to you how our economy was engineered so that we would work a ton, have too much junk, and completely and totally ruin the earth for our children and how we can fix it - to learn about that, pick up The Story of Stuff. (Ideally from a library or used book store. It really is a great read.) What I am here to explain to you is how I was a slave to the work-watch-spend cycle, and how I - inadvertently, I'll admit - managed to take break free and what it has done for me in terms of my self-image and confidence.

It goes like this: TV commercials market beauty products to young women. Over half - 56% - of commercials during shows with a high viewer population of young women focus on appearance. Compare that to just 3% of commercials aimed at men.