Good Stuff: Links & Likes

Image from The Guardian, copyright Jenny Jimenez/www.photojj.com

This Lindy West piece from The Guardian is just about the most perfect thing I've ever read, interrogating the intersections between feminism, fat and capitalist exploitation in the wedding industrial complex. Searingly honest, West argues that the very act of a fat woman being happy and loved is a political statement. I want this piece tattooed all over my body so I can read it at any time.

I loved Laura's chair makeover; I'll definitely be stealing this idea in future!

And while we're on the subject of crafts, how amazing is this statement necklace made from recycled buttons?

I had ALL the feels while reading this piece about being bisexual at Pride. Just... so much yes.

The New York Times feature on two pairs of identical twins, in which one of each pair was swapped at birth, meaning they were raised as fraternal twins, was simply amazing.

Finally, Elise started The Buyer's Archive a while ago, I borrowed her idea, and now Donna of Polkadot Pink and Steffany of Deep Greens & Blues have joined in too.

Guest Post: On Gender Identity

A while ago I was approached by Siobhán with a piece she'd written: would I take a read of it and advise whether it was something she should publish? I thought - and I hope you do too - that her piece was ace but her instinct was that it felt too personal to post on her own blog. I was thrilled when she agreed to posting it here instead (and you can find the link to her blog up top in my Blogs I Love tab). So, without further ado, here she is talking about gender identity...

I am 16 and sat in a bland office with an equally bland looking counsellor. We shall call her Dr Beige.

Dr Beige has just questioned my gender identity. She has suggested I really want to be or am male. I cannot get my head around this or how what I have said so far has got us to this point.

So I sit and try to go over what I have said to see if I can explain it better.

Sure I have body issues. These mean I see my breasts and hips and bum and other “womanly curves” as just excess fat that needs to be removed.

Sure I was raped by my boyfriend just 9 months ago, I tried to kill myself about 5 months later. My relationship with my sexuality is more than a little fraught.

Sure I had an eating disorder and my periods stopped and I was happy with that. To be honest many women who identify as women do not like their periods.

Sure my sexuality pre-rape was a pretty fluid thing. Sexuality is not the same as gender identity.

Sure sometimes I wish I was a boy because life seems easier that way.

I try to articulate why I feel like a woman. I have the advantage of having been born into a body that matches my gender identity and I struggle to articulate why I am female.

Dr Beige probes me further.

I don’t feel like I am a woman in the way other women in my town seem to be. I don’t feel like I am a person in that way either. I am weird. I am an outsider but I am a woman. Or at least I have never questioned that.

I do not tell anyone about this conversation. I do not know how to tell anyone about this conversation.

Every now and then I come back to it. I still feel my gender is pretty fluid. I sometimes feel like I am actually a boy with body issues who REALLY likes dresses and hench guys and skinny guys and some really fit girls and a lot of people in between. But then I also feel a connection with my body as a female body which I really appreciate and enjoy. I’m good with those two things being true at the same time. I think it is fine. I even think it is probably fairly normal.

As time goes on I meet many people who are transgender or gender queer and discover the trouble they have trying to articulate their gender identity. I think back to that bland office and Dr Beige and how difficult it was to justify my own.

I never ask anyone else to do this. I hope I never will. For those who have never been questioned on it, or have never questioned it, it can seem very obvious, something that just is. Try to put that into words though and you see how hard it is to tell someone something that feels self-evident. This is a challenge so many people face before they are able to live as themselves.I am in no way saying my experience is the same as those of my trans friends and fellow humans. I had the body to match my identity (well apart from being bigger than my brain was happy with) but not everyone has that luxury.

If I was to sit down with Dr Beige now and she told me I wanted to be a man I'd still not have concrete answers. Sometimes I would love to be  a man for all kinds of reasons, but I feel my identity is fairly rooted in my female body. I don't feel a disconnect between my body and my identity on that level. I do not always feel like a "typical" woman but I do not feel I have to, and I do not think those born into male bodies have to either. The joy of life is in the variations between people and so I am happy to be where I am on the spectrum of femininity, wherever that may be.

Good Stuff: Links & Likes

I have a semi-regular feature called Good Stuff, which highlights the blog posts and other internet loveliness I've enjoyed. So, for today's Blog Love theme, I thought I'd write about the stuff that's floated my boat recently.

Alice continues to post amazing writing of her own, but I also loved this link she provided recently: Why I Don't Believe In Dressing For My Body Type.

Anyone who's been following Sarah's pregnancy story couldn't help but be overjoyed at the news she'd given birth to Matilda on 21st April. Her birth story is awe-inspiring reading (and damn, that baby is cute).

While Sarah is on maternity leave from blogging, a few of us stepped in with guest posts. I wrote about how to get more real mail, Siobhan shared her story of relocating with no jobs in place, and I loved Elise's post about the benefits of being crafty.

As someone who really struggles to get halfway decent outfit pictures even in the privacy of my own home, these tips from Amber (via Becky) on how to take photographs in public should come in very handy.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you'll have heard about the Protein World 'Beach Body' controversy. The Escapologists Daughter was behind the first protests and wrote about what happened here and here. Of course, because we live in a shitty world, she's been inundated with criticism, insults and trolls ever since. She didn't need to answer them, but she chose to do so in a wonderful post: Stuff I'd Start Movements About. Honestly, I find the younger generation of feminists so inspiring in their willingness to take action when they see inequality.

I loved these beautiful portraits of LGBTQ folk.

Louisa put together a helpful list (with map) of the charity shops in Bath.

Bustle's collection of plus size women in lingerie is inspiring as fuck. Never let it be forgotten that just being confident about and happy with your fat body is a radical act.

The magazines I've been reading lately

It's not always easy to find decent print media if you're after more than the diet tips, high end fashion, and articles about botox that seem to proliferate in mainstream women's mags. I do quite like Oh Comely and Frankie but they can be a tad hipster at times, and I've always found their focus on young, skinny white women in their fashion spreads disappointing.

There are, however, alternatives out there if you look hard enough...

When B, E & I visited Laura in Nottingham last month, we popped into Ideas On Paper, which specialises in esoteric mags and journals from around the world. I picked up a copy of Things & Ink, which I hadn't heard of before. A quarterly magazine aimed specifically at women and covering tattoo culture, I loved the interiors shoot (I'm always up for a nosy at other people's houses) and the stunning images of - what else? - tattoos. An article on the current trend for Disney tattoos was thought-provoking and explicitly addressed it from a feminist perspective. At £6.95, Things & Ink isn't cheap, and obviously has a fairly niche audience, but I'll certainly pick up another issue should I see it in future.

I quite understand why someone who doesn't identify as lesbian, bi or queer might not think to pick up a copy of Diva, but I honestly think they're missing out. Diva provides the only truly radical, left wing, feminist voice in mainstream women's publishing. Recent issues have included articles on the Health At Every Size movement, the history of squatting, why more women are freezing their eggs, and a brilliant piece on privilege. If you're interested in critical feminist perspectives or queer politics, it's a must-read.

Bitch began as a Riot Grrrl fanzine back in 1996 and has grown over the years to encompass an entire non-profit organisation running out of Portland, Oregon. The content skews slightly towards more academic writing - it's accessible, yes, but it'll make you think. I especially loved a recent piece on how food trends are a form of gentrification, often taking foodstuffs that poorer minorities have as a staple, making them trendy and thus pushing prices beyond the means of the original buyers. Their book, music and film reviews are always a great starting point when I'm seeking out new media and their frequent subscriber offers make it affordable to have the quarterly issues sent directly to you.

Bust is of a similar generation to Bitch (it started in New York in 1993) and explicitly apes the look and content of a mainstream women's magazine, but from a feminist perspective. When a friend visited us recently, he flicked through it for a while before exclaiming, "Hey! This is a feminist mag not a trashy one!", which is both the strength and weakness of Bust. If, like me, you love traditional print media and want a decent alternative to Glamour or Cosmo, then Bust is great. However, it can sometimes feel just a tad too glossy - being a subscriber to Bitch at the same time offers me the balance of more in-depth analysis along with the pretty photoshoots, travel articles and celeb interviews. Bust is also particularly strong on craft, cooking and fashion (all with an alternative perspective, such as their regular food contributor being vegan chef Isa Chandra Moskowitz).

On queerness

Image source here

I came out as a lesbian when I was 17 and in the throes of my first relationship (which was with a girl) and then had to crawl back into the closet a few years later, after we'd broken up and I started dating men too.  Bisexuality, as an identity, did not seem terribly appealing.  I'm a words person and there's something about the unpleasant sibiliance of it - bi-sex-shual - which sounds as if it's being drunkenly slurred.  Not to mention that bisexuality is an identity constantly debated, belittled and mocked by straight and gay people alike.  You'll forgive me if I wasn't desperately keen to come out as bi.  But it was all I had in terms of terminology, so that's how I, reluctantly, ended up identifying.

It's only in the last decade that the term 'queer' has begun to gain traction in the UK.  Long used as a homophobic slur, it was reclaimed in the 80s and 90s by activists in America and began being used more widely in the 00s as a catch-all for the various identities that fall under the LGBT banner. Where I found bisexuality a limiting identity and an unpleasant word, queer was to provide an alternative.

Queer is political, radical, a term much used by activists.  There's an inclusiveness about it that is rather lovely, the way in which one word can encompass and embrace a range of identities from lesbian, gay & bisexual to trans, asexual, intersex and genderqueer folk.  And let's face it, even in its original meaning it's a fantastic word, bespeaking all manner of oddities and weirdnesses.  It was liberating, a few years ago, to find this new identity.  Instead of being pigeonholed in the 'B' of LGBT, I could glory in being part of the whole queer family.

And then I fell in love with a man, which rather put a spanner in the works of my glorious second coming out.

I've never, not even when walking hand in hand with a girlfriend, been visible as queer.  No matter how hard I've tried at times to butch up, I'm femme through and through and I just don't 'read' as queer.  In many and numerous ways this gives me enormous privilege, vastly reducing the risk of my falling prey to homophobic abuse or violence.  But  it can be problematic, too.  Many's the time I've had to 'prove' my queerness in order to gain entrance to a gay bar or club (being able to give a detailed account of the plot of The L Word usually works).  It can be hard - in the absence of what people regard as common visual markers of queerness - to convince family and friends that yes, I really am queer, not just pretending.  And now that I have a male partner, someone I hope to spend the rest of my life with, it can sometimes feel as if the queer bit of my identity is disappearing.  If only I know it's there, does it still count?

It can also feel to me that by entering into a life partnership with a cisgendered man, I'm fulfilling all of the worst stereotypes about bisexual women: that we're just experimenting and not really queer; that what we really want is cock; that in the end, it's just straight girls playing at being gay.  I feel sad that, by being with the person I love, I'm seen (and perhaps see myself) as less queer than I was before.

Part of me mourns for the loss of my queer identity.  Part of me feels like I'm no longer part of the gang, like I've lost part of what made me me.

But a much larger part glories in the miracle of being able to wake up every morning next to the most amazing person.  A person who completely accepts the copies of Diva magazine littering the house, who puts up with me perving over Ellen Page and Kat Moennig (and who, in fact, when he sees a woman he thinks I'll fancy - I have a very definite type - will point her out to me).  A person who isn't, and shouldn't be, defined by his gender or sex but by the fact that he's perfect for me and to me. I think I need to wrap my head around the fact that being with him doesn't make me less queer. It just makes me incredibly lucky to have found someone amazing.  For anything I've lost, I've gained far, far more.

LGBT YA fiction

I have a great fondness for Young Adult (YA) fiction, and my job gives me a great excuse to read a lot of it, without feeling I should be reading something more lengthy and, well, adult.  At its best, YA fiction is everything 'proper' adult fiction is, and more.  Dealing with the period of confusion and flux that is the teenage years, YA novels are well placed to tackle a huge variety of issues, and they generally do so without the preachy 'this book is about something very important' overtones of adult fiction.  They often make quick, easy, but not unchallenging reading for those times you can't quite cope with Bleak House or the latest Pat Barker, but want something that will entertain and provoke discussion in equal measure.  YA fiction can also be something of an escape for adult readers: when you're struggling with the mortgage or fretting about your shrivelling ovaries (ahem, not that I do this), it's comforting to be taken back to the days when the biggest things to worry about was a biology test and whether that cute girl/boy smiled at you in tutor time.

But of course, it's easy to get rose-tinted about your teenage years, when the reality is that growing up is hard to do, and growing up queer is immeasurably harder.  So thank goodness there are some really fantastic YA novels that speak to the LGBT experience (but don't necessarily have to just be for an LGBT audience).  Bitch magazine's blogs have recently started a fascinating series about LGBT YA books, called Beyond Judy Blume, which prompted me to think about my three favourite recent(ish) LGBT teen novels are...

 

 

1. The Shell House by Linda Newberry

Greg is beginning his A-Levels in contemporary Essex.  Edmund, heir to the imposing Graveney Hall, is an officer fighting in the trenches during World War 1, and in love with fellow soldier Alex.  As Greg becomes more confused about his developing friendship with his classmate, Jordan, it becomes clear that he might have more in common with Edmund than first seemed.  This is such a wonderful, magical novel about faith, self-discovery, grief, friendship, history... there's so much to enjoy.  I was in equal parts frustrated and intrigued by the ambiguous ending, which forced me to conclude Greg's story to my own satisfaction.

2. Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan
Paul lives in a town where there isn't a gay scene or a straight scene, "they all got mixed up a while back".  The school quarterback is also the homecoming queen and being gay is no big deal.  Criticised for presenting a falsely optimistic picture of young gay life, I think this book is an important acting out of a fantasy world in which homophobia doesn't exist (or at least, not until you meet Tony's Christian parents).  Funny, uplifting and moving, I never tire of re-reading it.

3. Centre Of My World by Andreas Steinhofel
Gorgeous literary novel about seventeen year old Phil, living in a big house on the outskirts of a small German town where he and his family are outcasts.  He's waiting for the right guy to come along: might Nicholas be the one?  I read this doorstep of a novel in one sitting, in a bar in the rather fitting setting of Cologne.  It's lovely, and a bit heartbreaking.

Book review: The Song Of Achilles

Last week's Orange Prize winner, The Song Of Achilles by debut author Madeline Miller, is one of the most beautiful and captivating novels that I have ever read.  Based on The Iliad, the book rewrites the action of the Trojan War through the eyes of Achilles' companion (and, in this retelling, lover) Patroclus.  Sent to Phthia in exile as a child, Patroclus is chosen as companion by the Prince of Phthia, Achilles, and taught alongside him until, at the age of seventeen, they are both summoned by Agamemnon to fight against Troy. 

 

Miller has a remarkable knack of making these Ancient Greek tales - told so many times before - shimmer with life and vitality.  The characters of Achilles and Patroclus are vividly realised; Achilles through his friend's eyes is "like a flame himself.  He glittered, drew eyes.  There was a glamour to him, even on waking, with his hair tousled and his face still muddled with sleep."  A golden haired beauty, he entrances the reader as much as he does Patroclus.  The narrator is harder to conjure an image of; we catch only glimpses of him in a bronze mirror or in the reactions of other characters, yet we know his thoughts and feelings intimately. 

It is when the two boys reach puberty that their friendship blossoms into something else and, despite the best efforts of Achilles' goddess mother, Thetis, they remain together as companions and lovers during their education and, later, their journey to war.  This central romance is utterly beguiling; I haven't rooted for a fictional couple this much for a long time.  I think maybe Brokeback Mountain was the last?  Which is also the last time I was left so heartbroken by a piece of art.  Clearly tragic gay love stories are what ring my bell.

 

With seventy pages to go, I did something very strange, something I have never done before.  Unable to bear the thought of finishing the book and leaving the characters, I stopped reading, turned back to the beginning and started again.  All in one sitting, 352 pages, until midnight.  It rewards reading like this, in one gulp, if you can find the time.  I became so immersed in the book that I read the last fifty pages through heaving, gulping sobs.

The Song Of Achilles is both a beautiful romance and a violent war story: a blood-soaked, sun-drenched tale.  I intend to buy a copy for everyone I know and force them to read it.

Book review: It's So You

Subtitled '35 Women Write About Personal Expression Through Fashion & Style', this is a wonderful collection of essays and recollections on the subject of clothes and make-up.  "Fashion is self-expression; Fashion is identity; Fashion is feminist," declares the blurb. 

Edited by Michelle Tea (who I have such a girl crush on: check out her regular column on xojane about her quest to become inseminated[1]), it features thirty six women – mainly writers but also ‘model/mechanic’ Jenny Shimizu and musician Kim Gordon, of Sonic Youth fame - musing on the often thorny topic of how clothes and make-up contribute to women's personal identity and expression of self.

Tea is a San Francisco-dwelling writer and that fact is reflected in the range of contributors, who tend towards the alternative.  But beyond that limit, the book features a wide range of voices, experiences and ages.  I particularly enjoyed Diane di Prima's (b.1934) essay Ideas of Fashion from the Great Depression to Today. 

A couple of other favourites were Felicia Luna Lemus' S.W.A.K. - a wonderful 9 page rumination on red lipstick, taking in personal reminisence, lesbian politics, Aztec history and more besides - and A Torrid Affair by Cookie Woolner, who writes, "The mainstream fashion and beauty industries exist to keep us alienated from our bodies and desires, in a constant cycle of consumption and false expectations.  Fashion should be about joy and expression, not fear and loathing - loving and truly inhabiting our bodies, not hiding from them."  It had me nodding along frantically.

I loved this book, which got me reflecting on the style choices I have made over the years (and made me excited about trying out red lipstick for the first time in my life: turns out it looks great, who knew?).  Be prepared for it to change the way you perceive the contents of your wardrobe and your make-up bag.

---

[1] A word which I always mix up with ‘exterminated’, bringing to mind images of Daleks with turkey basters.

Seen & heard: May 2012

Seen...

1. I watched Crazy Stupid Love for the first time last weekend and really enjoyed it.  Although somewhat slow to get going, it more than makes up for it towards the end.  One scene had me crying with laughter; watch out for the backyard confrontation.  It's a glossy and ultimately rather fluffy rom-com, but with a superior cast including Emma Stone, Julianne Moore, Ryan Gosling and Steve Carrell (reprising every role he's ever played, as a put-upon schmuck), it's definitely worth 2 hours of your time.

2. I've only just discovered E4's latest US import, Happy Endings, just as the series is coming to a close.  Doh.  Following the usual post-Friends set-up of three guys and three girls, it's silly but enjoyable (and definitely superior to the execrable 2 Broke Girls, which seems to think casual racism + a laugh track = comic gold).

3. How Beautiful The Ordinary is a lovely YA collection of short stories on the theme of LGBT identity.  I especially enjoyed Julie Ann Peters' First Time, a present tense, dual narrative retelling of a teenage lesbian couple's first sexual encounter, which certainly took me back to the uncertain fumblings of my youth.  The closing tale, The Silk Road Runs Through Tupperneck N.H by Gregory Maguire is not exactly a 'short' story at nearly 100 pages long, and kept me gripped long past my bedtime.  With sympathetic and realistically flawed characters, I found it incredibly moving and it's prompted me to take a look at some of Maguire's other work (which includes Wicked, on which the hit musical is based).

Heard...

1. I know I bang on about Karima Francis a lot, but she really is that good.  I had a great time at her gig in Nottingham last night.  Her single, Wherever I Go (not my favourite of her new material, it has to be said, but still amazing), has been getting some radio airplay and I am keeping everything crossed that this is the year she breaks through.  She deserves to be huge (and it'll be nice to say that I saw her back when...).

2. Not so much 'heard' as 'looking forward to hearing', but I'm excited about the new Beach House album.  So far I've resisted listening to it on Spotify (my laptop speakers are bust and make everything sound terrible), instead waiting until I can make a trip to indie record store Rockaboom in Leicester.

Music Monday: I Am What I Am

A song that I doubt needs too much introduction today.  Famous as something of a gay anthem, it was originally written for the musical La Cage aux Folles and has subsequently been recorded by Gloria Gaynor, Shirley Bassey and John Barrowman, amongst others.  But don't worry, I haven't suddenly become a raging Barrowman fan.  I'm posting this because Gay Abandon sung it in their concert on Saturday and it's been stuck in my head ever since.  Their arrangement is more pared-down and therefore more moving than this somewhat overblown version.  No matter, because it's the lyrics that count.  Reproduced below, it's clear why the song became a gay anthem (not least because it's sung by a gay character in the show and is unequivocally about being out and proud) but I also think it can resonate regardless of sexual orientation.  I spent so much time in my teens and twenties trying to fit myself into what I thought other's wanted me to be.  One of my favourite things about being in my thirties (actually, it might be my only favourite thing about my thirties) is that I now have the self-assurance to say (and mean), "I am what I am, and what I am needs no excuses".

I am what I am
I am my own special creation.
So come take a look,
Give me the hook or the ovation.
It's my world that I want to take a little pride in,
My world, and it's not a place I have to hide in.
Life's not worth a damn,
'Til you can say, "Hey world, I am what I am."
I am what I am,
I don't want praise, I don't want pity.
I bang my own drum,
Some think it's noise, I think it's pretty.
And so what, if I love each feather and each spangle,
Why not try to see things from a diff'rent angle?
Your life is a sham 'til you can shout out loud
I am what I am!
I am what I am
And what I am needs no excuses.
I deal my own deck
Sometimes the ace, sometimes the deuces.
There's one life, and there's no return and no deposit;
One life, so it's time to open up your closet.
Life's not worth a damn 'til you can say,
"Hey world, I am what I am!"

Mag hag: 24 hours with a pile of magazines

Pretty much the only benefit of spending the last two days languishing in bed with a bug has been the chance to tackle the large pile of magazines I'd aquired over the past few weeks.  Reading them back-to-back led me to ponder the weirdness that is women's mags.

Red
Traditional glossy, aspirational woman's magazine.  I used to love it but cancelled my subscription recently when I realised that reading it made me feel bad.  The Christmas issue is a must-buy though, if only for the annual 25% off at Paperchase voucher.
Coverlines include 'My 10-year love affair with Botox'; 'Lorraine Pascal's totally lazy Christmas'.  Did feminism ever happen?
For women who, judging by the articles therein, are in their 30s or 40s, live in impossibly nice houses with their impossibly nice husband and 2.4 children.
Wants you to buy Tom Ford eye shadow palette, a bargain at only £62; a £920 sheepskin beanbag from The White Company; an £8,000 Rolex watch.
Reading it I feel an increasing sense of dissatisfaction with my life.  Looking at the glossy interiors photographs, my thoughts turn to the grubby grouting in my bathroom.  There are some articles that resonate - particularly 'Get an experience high', about how to cut down on buying and focus more on doing (which seems ironic in a magazine that is 50% adverts) - but overall reading it reminds me why I cancelled my subscription. 

Mollie Makes
Relatively new (only on it's eighth issue) craft magazine aimed at young, trendy crafters who might watch Kirstie's Homemade Home then go out to a gig.
Coverlines include 'Thrifty style secrets: recycled makes for your home & wardrobe'; 'Scandinavian inspiration: Norway's coolest design blog'.  Clearly not your average craft magazine, with patterns for teddy bear cross stitch.
For women who have always been into crafts, honest, I'm not jumping on the 'cool craft' bandwagon, I swear...
Wants you to buy a new Janome sewing machine, £99.99; handknitted lambswool egg cosies.
Reading it I wonder who are these people who find amazing junkshop finds for a few quid?  My local junk shop is full of, well, junk and it costs a damn sight more than the £6 for a chair quoted in here.  Mollie Makes is just as aspirational as mainstream women's mags, it's just a different kind of aspiration.  Instead of lusting after Rolex watches and posh make-up, we're lusting after vintage fabrics, car boot bargains and screenprinted cushions.

Fat Quarter
Recently defunct quarterly magazine, clearly published on the thinnest of shoestrings but packed full of interesting articles that feel aimed at women exactly like me (whoever they may be).
Coverlines include 'Kristin Hersh of Throwing Muses'; 'Drag kings'.  Terse and to the point.
For women who "are after a 'countercultural ladies' mag," according to the tagline.  I'll assume the "ladies'" is ironic.
Wants you to buy albums by bands so obscure even I haven't heard of them.
Reading it I want to weep that after only three issues, the only possible UK alternative to Bust or Bitch has folded.  Blogs are all well and good, but I'm old-fashioned and like to turn pages when I read.

Diva
This is neither the time nor the place to go into detail about my sexual preferences.  Suffice it to say that I've dated girls and boys in the past (is it bad that I still think in terms of 'girls' and 'boys' at the age of 33?!) and I enjoy the ocassional flick through Diva, if only for the novel experience of reading a magazine for women that isn't obsessed with diets.
Coverlines include 'Feminine lesbians: Too straight looking to be gay?'; 'New Leeds gay quarter - ghetto or fabulous?'.  They like rhetorical questions.
For women who like women, duh.
Wants you to buy The new Bjork album; an Annix dildo for the special offer price of £29.99.
Reading it I decide I want some fabulous red lipstick, like the women in the vintage fashion feature.  But no rage, no yearning for consumer goods... this might just be the winning mag.

Why Glee matters

I know I know, just hear me out!  Now I'm an unashamed fan of Glee.  I love the bone dry wit of characters like Sue and Santana (ok, the latter is less witty and more bitchy).  I love how clever and political the writing is, and the fact that it airs on Fox just adds to that particular pleasure.  I LOVE the songs, especially the showtunes (Rachel and Mercedes belting out 'Take Me Or Leave Me' from Rent even managed to make me not want to punch Rachel for screwing up her eyes on every high note). 

But most of all, I think Glee is really important in being so gay- and bi-friendly.  A lot of weeks lately my jaw has dropped watching things that I never thought I would see on a US TV show.  Sometimes I end up cheering at the TV, for example when Blaine finally realised he loved Kurt and they kissed (twice!).  Thinking of this going out on Murdoch's dollar makes me really happy.

The long-running storyline involving Kurt suffering relentless homophobic bullying by a (closeted gay) football player has felt wince-inducingly realistic and painful.  The recent spate of gay teenagers committing suicide in the USA and the fact that just days ago The Guardian reported on a rise in homophobic attacks in London shows just how important it is to have a show that millions of teenagers watch tackle these issues.

The Santana/Brittany relationship has been dealt with really well too, slowly developing from throwaway lines in season one to the realisation that they're in love.  Their performance of 'Landslide' a few episodes ago left me in tears: how on earth did the show pick the one song that meant so much to me and my best friend/girlfriend/confused bisexual partner when we were 17?!

Knowing what it feels like to be 17 and coming to terms with your not-straightness, and now teaching teenagers who go through the same difficulties, I realise how important Glee is, why it matters.  If the show makes just one kid feel less alone, less frightened and harrassed, then it's done more than most TV programmes.  To do all this and with killer tunes... well that's just spoiling us.