Three days in Australia, or, “Sexism. Sexism everywhere”.

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Ever since Julia Gillard was elected, Australia has been forced to shine a light on its attitudes towards women – and more specifically, women in power. At times the ride has been exhilarating and empowering, and at times it has drifted towards the ugly and downright rude.

But the last 48 hours have really demonstrated to me just how far we have to go. So, without further ado, I present to you the last two days in the life of an Average Australian Woman:

Tuesday morning: Wake up, make a cup of tea, and read the front page of the paper. Try to keep your toast down as you realise that the murderer of Jill Meagher was on parole, and had been convicted of 16 other counts of rape. Your mind immediately jumps to how many others serial rapists are currently “rehabilitated”, and are now out in public.

Tuesday afternoon: You read that Julia Gillard has attempted to start a “gender war” – and remain somewhat confused, because you were under the impression that this particular war was started centuries ago. You realise that Julia Gillard is concerned about Tony Abbott’s views on abortion, which is, in all honestly fair enough. The man does have a track record.

Wednesday morning: You read the victim impact statements from the Jill Meagher case, and wonder if it will stretch on years. The answer, of course, is yes. You will think about it next time you’re walking down the street, or next time a strange man approaches you when you’re alone.

You jump to the next news section, only to read that the Australian Socceroos coach has told a press conference that women should “shut up in public”. You wonder what his mother, wife, and other female friends and family members think about this, before realising that it doesn’t matter – their voices probably won’t be heard in the media, anyway.

Wednesday lunch time: Your social media feeds spring to life, with the words “menu” and “Mal Brough” cropping up. It only takes you a minute to work out that yet another LNP member has had a serious lapse of judgement – this time, in relation to a menu, of all things. You scan through the articles until you finally reach the image of the menu in question – and find the phrase “small breasts, huge thighs and a big red box”. Your thoughts sway between immediate, explosive outrage for the PM and a sense of disgust that the menu ever reached the public eye. You also take a moment to note that although Simon Crean, Wayne Swan and Kevin Rudd are also mentioned, none of their menu ‘items’ feature a reference to their appearance (or, indeed, their genitalia). 

Wednesday afternoon: You hear your two male colleagues laughing at something on a computer screen. You glance over, only to see an enlarged version of Brough’s menu appear. Your colleagues then ask you if you think it was funny – and when you reply that you don’t, are told that this sense of humour is “just the Australian way”. You point out that none of the male politicians that appeared on that menu were sexualised, or had attention drawn to their physical appearance. You then exit the room to get a coffee and bang your head against a wall.

Wednesday evening: You avoid watching the news or hopping on Facebook, because you don’t wish to buy into everyone’s outrage about a menu. You’re just as outraged as your friends and family members – but you’re also tired of nothing ever changing, and would prefer to spend an evening pretending that offensive menus never existed.

Thursday morning: You wake up to the news that a restaurant owner has taken responsibility for the ‘offensive menu’, and that the LNP party has “condemned the menu in the strongest terms”. You wonder if the LNP keeps a document on its shared hard drive entitled “Apologies for Sexism”. What would it read like? Perhaps, as this: “We apologise for [sexist comment] made by [sexist politician] here. We will try harder next time. Plz vote 4 us, c u in September, kthanxbai.”

Thursday lunchtime: You venture back to the wide world of the mass media, only to read the news that 17 Australian Defence Force personnel are under investigation over “offensive emails“. You don’t need to read any further to guess that the emails were related to women. Instead, you wonder how common these “offensive emails” in workplaces are, and recall the incident with the menu in your workplace yesterday.

Thursday evening: The media wrap-ups for the entire menu-related affair start coming through, and you brace yourself for a mention of the term ‘menu-gate’. You then reward yourself with a coffee when News.com.au and the ABC (yes, the ABC) follow through on your expectations for the most unoriginal journalism.

….. And these are just the local examples. I thought about including some of the international examples of sexism within this run down, but then I realise I would be typing this until midnight.

What does it say, when this is almost an “average” day in Australia? Firstly, it says that gender is still an issue, and will continue to be for quite some time (indeed, until the election results are counted). I’m grateful for the focus on the topic of gender – but some intelligent debate wouldn’t go astray. I’m tired of the petty name-calling, the exaggeration and simplification of all “news” content to suit the biggest audience. I’m sick of attention-screaming headlines, and “gender wars”. What I would like is an honest, forthright discussion about the current treatment of women within Australia. One that carries on up until the election, and spans across the issues of rape, domestic violence and sexual assault, attitudes of victim blaming, the representation of women in the media, the issue of female CEOs and politicians, paternity leave, equal pay, single parent (and mother) payments, and everything else I have simply missed. Of course, this is a vast discussion – but it is one that every single problem raised earlier shows we need to have. What we don’t need are any more infantile “menus”, or sports coaches with jacked-up opinions on whether women have the right to a “voice”.

Women as public property

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Three separate things have happened to me in the last few weeks that have basically lead me to believe that I’m operating as a form of public property – you know, something that anyone can feel free to comment on. And, quite frankly, it pisses me off. Above and beyond the fact that everyone reading can probably say things along the lines of ‘BOO HOO’, and ‘welcome to the real world’, I’ve reached a point of absolute frustration with this shit. A point at which I’ve start side-eyeing random strangers, suspicious of that the fact that they may be poised to make some stupid, crude or idiotic remark to me when I DIDN’T EVEN ASK THEM.

Case number one: About a week ago, I ventured out for one of my standard morning runs. I’d just hit the 7km mark, and was sweating up a storm. Earlier, I had run past an older man. He had waved his hand at me, and said something – but as I was running past him and had my earphones in, I didn’t catch. I didn’t really think anything of it, because people often nod and say ‘good morning’ to me.

Anyway, at the 7km mark, I ran back past this man (I had turned around at this point, and so was running towards him). He waved at me again, and so I slowed down (I thought he might have been lost or confused).

The man carried on to tell me that he has “often seen me out running” (which is correct, I have seen him before, and he has similarly waved at me then) and that I “frighten him” because I am “so sweaty”.

At this point in time, the expression on my face was rather like this cat’s:

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My response to this guy was something along the lines of, “well, yes, I’m running, of course I’m sweaty”. I then turned around and kept running. The thing is, this isn’t the first time someone has felt the need to tell me how my body/my clothes/the books I’m carrying are “funny”, “frightening”, or “dirty”.

Case number two: Three days prior to the running incident, I’d swung by my local university coffee shop after visiting the library. I was loaded up academic-type books with titles such as “Feminism Methodologies” and “Qualitative-Based Methodologies for Feminists” – you know, standard fare for anyone doing a PhD in feminism (which, coincidentally, I am). I proceeded to dump these books on the counter next to me as I fished my wallet out of my bag, only to hear the young guy in front of me start laughing. I asked him what was funny (I had suspected it was something to do with the barista, who tends to come up with ridiculous nicknames for his customers. My nickname is usually Jessica Simpson or Jessica Alba, for example…). He then proceeded to tell me that those books looked very “interesting”, whilst, well, sniggering.

ewLook, I’d like to think that this guy had a genuine interest in feminist methodologies, but somehow, I suspect that this wasn’t the case. This guy’s main interest appeared to be commenting on how much ‘feminism’ I was literally carrying.

Case number three: Two to three weeks prior to this happening, I was walking to university to have a meeting with my supervisors about my PhD. I’d put on a brand new, pale pink dress for the occasion. On the way in, I walk past a guy in his mid to late 20′s, who says to me, “you’re looking good today, Miss”. To which I said, “What?”, because he-half mumbled it. He then says, “You’re showing your pink bits, you dirty bitch!”. Because you know, GET IT, I was wearing a pink dress.

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(Even Julia Gillard is unimpressed by this one).

Street harassment isn’t exactly uncommon. It happens all the time, everywhere, to woman (and men!) all around the globe. And whenever it happens to me, I’m reminded of the fact that I’m not just a ‘citizen of the world’ (so to speak) but I’m also a woman. Which of course, means I’m up for objectification and harassment. I don’t have a solution to street harassment – and if I did, I’d bottle it and distribute it to every woman on the planet. What I hope and wish for is some form of witty comeback for each situation. As it stands, I tend to be struck dumb by common sense, and end up replying with the obvious: “I’m sweating because I’m running”, “I have feminist books because I’m studying feminism”, or “I AM wearing a pink dress…”.

What I would LIKE, what I wish I COULD do, is completely lose my shit. I’d like to go completely and utterly bat-shit crazy on these men. I’d like to screech, scream, and holler at them. I’d like to tell them that their behaviour is disgusting, and that they don’t have the goddamn right to comment on me, my body, or even the bloody books that I am carrying around university. But then, of course, I’d just be conforming to the stereotype of the “crazy paranoid women”, when of course these men were just trying to “be polite”, or “make conversation” – except that they weren’t. And then, of course, there’s the fact that I’m too polite to confront men in this manner in public (even though I shouldn’t be).

See the bind that women are in?

Safety Tips For Ladies: A brief overview

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Today, I participated in what could readily be described as one of the at times funniest, and at time most depressing, hash tag threads on Twitter this year. The #safetytipsforladies hash tag stemmed from a reaction to this article from The Punch, and the credit for starting the entire Twitter-based landslide goes to one @hilaryjfb.

As Twitter is wont to do, the hash tag took off before you could say “angry women fed up with the patriarchy” three times in a row. I, like many other people, jumped on board and contributed my own insights into how women could keep themselves safe in public:

And again, as Twitter is wont to do, things got misinterpreted. At this point in time, it’s worthwhile noting that I speak only for me here. The idea for contributing to these tweets was not to ‘poke fun’ at real, lived experiences of rape or assault. Nor was it to try to say that methods of preventation against these crimes are utterly useless. And for anyone who was triggered or offended by my tweets (or retweets through me) I am sorry. That was never the intention, and the tweets were made in good faith.

What the tweets were (and still are!) all about is the opportunity to highlight the ridiculous, sometimes seemingly insane measures women take in their day-to-day life to prevent assault or rape. Women actually are told to practice jumping under cars in case they need to hide. They are told to never go jogging alone. They are told to not tie their hair in a pony tail, or to have long hair at all. They are told to always “be aware of their surroundings” and to “shout ‘fire!’ not ‘help!’ if they are attacked” (presumably because people care more about a fire than an attack on a woman?). We are told all of these things in order to ‘protect’ us. And yet, when these (sometimes ridiculous) methods fail, we are then told that it is STILL our fault.

If you ask a woman (any woman!) what her preventative measures are to protect herself from harm whilst she is out alone are, she could tell you in an instant. Here are mine:

  • Never wear heels when alone, always wear or carry flats so you can switch into them to run away
  • Carry keys ready in your hand, always check the back seat as you get into the car, and lock the doors straight away
  • Never check your phone or listen to music when you’re walking down a street at night
  • Make eye contact with anyone who walks past you
  • Always ask for identification before opening the front door to a delivery or service person
  • Always have an escape route. Know precisely where the nearest safe, well-lit place is, and know that you can run to it.
  • ‘Follow your instincts’ (whatever that means)

There are many more, but these are just the ones I personally have and use in my day-to-day life. As many women have noted before me, if I tried to list them all we could be here for hours.

As a side note, one of the truly ironic undertones to these sort of ‘safety tips’ (which I still follow, regardless!) is the fact that many crimes against women such as assault and rape are committed by people known to them. And hence, these tips are largely rendered useless in the majority of actual crimes.

And yet another solution presents itself. One in which we switch the focus from the victims (who are, after all, blameless) to the perpetrators.  Quite simply, the solution is partly resolved by society forcing the actual perpetrators to take responsibility for crime they committed. The courts, the media, and society at large don’t excuse the perpetrator’s behaviour on the woman’s level of intoxication, or the fact that she was wearing ‘slutty’ clothing, or that she must have been asking for it because she was out late, walking through an abandoned car park. Additionally, another large chunk of the solution is, as always, telling men not to rape. Of course, ‘telling’ is different to actually achieving. But  one of the most important methods to addressing this ‘telling men not to rape’ criteria is, I believe, education programs on consent.

And finally, by not simply ‘telling’ men not rape (because, as I’ve just said, ‘telling’ often isn’t good enough). But by giving the crime of rape the attention, and severity, it deserves. By not claiming that being convicted of rape will ruin the perpetrator’s future. By not blaming the victim, but instead giving her the support she needs. By not wasting time on telling women what to do or what not to do, but by instead focusing on the perpetrators of the crime.

I’m sick of being told how to keep myself safe. When do we stop focusing on me, and start focusing on the actual criminals?

“Ironic” advertising

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Remember that time when I blogged about ‘drinking Pussy‘? Or the time I wrote about Lynx commercials? Or hell, even the blog post about Brut deodorant? The question here is, what do all three of these products and subsequent advertisements have in common?

The obvious answer is “being obnoxiously ‘blokey’”, of course. But there’s more to it. Each of these advertisement portray themselves as being ‘ironic’. And how could they not? It’s quite certain that they couldn’t get away with portraying women as nothing more than inanimate objects (like, say a can of drink), or as a set of house slaves ready to do the bidding of men.

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It’s irony – what Rosalind Gill (2007) describes as being “that catch all device that allows advertisers to have their cake and eat it [too]“. Hell, Lynx admits that their advertisements are tongue-in-cheek when rebutting claims of sexism against them. Between 2010 and 2011, Lynx had 9 sets of complaints lodged against them through the Advertising Standards Board. In each case, Lynx rebutted the complainants statements that their advertisements demeaned women by instead claiming that their ads were “cheeky” and “playful”, and that their intended “young adult male audience understands the playful and hyperbolic nature of the TVC [commercial] and its distinction between fact and fiction”.

Putting aside the fact that Lynx seem to be expecting quite a lot from their reasonably young audience, I’d like to simply consider the remainder of the audience – the older people, the younger kids, and the women. Apologies if this sounds like a ‘but what about the children!’ kind of cry – but I can assure you, it’s a little bit more than that. It’s more of a “but what about the women!” cry.

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I get sick of seeing bodies – mostly female bodies – being used ‘ironically’. And not even in a vaguely clever way. Female viewers are not idiots, and for companies such as Lynx to turn around, after they have already been accused of sexism multiple times, and to say that their intentions are to be “tongue-in-cheek” and ironic are, quite frankly, offensive. I’m not stupid. I know what’s ironic, and what is simply idiotic. Advertisements such as this are the latter.

There are a multitude of ways to advertise to young men without simply screaming “SEX! BOOBS! BUMS! GIRLS!” from the nearest rooftop/billboard/television screen. I just wish these companies would be brave enough to attempt it.

Oops, I forgot my femininity

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The suggestions that modern-day women have somehow ‘lost’ their femininity have been floating around for quite some time (and yes, each of those is a link to a separate blog. If you ain’t convinced, just Google ‘modern women losing femininity’, or something to that effect). Often, the accusers are people who wish for more home baking and less pointing out of their inherently sexist attitudes. However, this article by Sarah Berry reached a new level of ridiculousness. Not only does she manage to suggest that modern-day women are somehow ‘less feminine’ (because they’re working more, y’see – that inherently more work = less feminine) but she also spruiks a hilarious sounding ‘workshop’, whereby women can ‘reconnect’ with their feminine ways via a heart-shaped pillow, a tour of their own genitalia, and an outline of which archetype they need to channel (do you need more ‘Warrior’ in your life, or are you lacking a little ‘Caregiver’?).

I’m about as impressed as this cat:

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“I believe we strongly undervalue the feminine in this society,” says sex therapist, Jacqueline Hellyer. “Women’s liberation in the 70s… was a great thing [and] led to definite improvements in the status of women… but, to achieve that status, women had to prove that they could be like men… that’s fine, but… what it did show was that… women have to be like men to succeed in society.”

Conversely to male stereotypes, “the essence of the feminine is to be soft on the outside and strong on the inside,” says Hellyer. “In fact it’s only by being soft on the outside that your inner strength [can] emanate. Otherwise, as a woman you’re creating a false strength on the outside, which is hard to sustain, is brittle and prevents your true strength from blossoming and showing.”

Hang on. CONVERSELY to male stereotypes is the “essence of the feminine”. So….wait on. You’re firstly saying that the opposite to male stereotype (which, stereotypes in and of themselves are not something to aspire to) is an “essence of the feminine” – and THIS is something we need to be reaffirming? We should reinforce a traditional, sexist stereotype in order to length our “inner strength emanate”? Well, heck. You sold me. Saddle up the pink ponies, y’all, because tomorrow, WE RIDE FOR THE 1800s!

To be quite honest, I’m going to go ahead and let my inner strength emanate in all kinds of places – and none of them involve releasing my “feminine essence” and having to bake a cake. What I will do involves kicking ass at runs, or writing a ranty blog (like this!), or simply doing well at work. I may also involve the occasional “traditional” feminine activity, but I don’t NEED TO DO THAT in order to reaffirm my femininity.

The idea that we have to get ‘back in touch’ with something that we have apparently ‘lost’ is completely untrue. Gender roles change as society changes – and this isn’t a bad thing. The idea that a woman’s femininity is somehow inherently linked with her ability to bake a roast dinner is at best misguided, and at worst an outright and oppressive lie. Not all women are traditionally ‘feminine’, and femininity is a concept that is completely up for grabs. It’s insulting to the vast array of females (and males!) on this planet to suggest that women have somehow “learnt to withhold their warmth and tenderness”. And I say this to you with all the warmth and tenderness I can conjure after reading that steaming pile of rubbish.

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I’m not disagreeing with the idea that femininity is a strength, but I don’t wish to get femininity confused with the stereotype of a 1950s housewife. Not all women are “warm” and “soft”, and not all women are preventing their “true strength from blossoming and growing” simply because they naturally aren’t inclined to be a caregiver, or to want to insanely well at their job. Some women may perform more stereotypically masculine roles, and some men prefer to emulate more traditionally female roles. This is a wonderful, great thing, because it means we’re breaking down gender barriers. I have enough faith in humanity to be assured that we’ll work out who takes care of the kids and who runs the companies along the way. We don’t need to divide this shit up based purely on a person’s gender.

As for the ‘archetypes’ offered at these women’ only sexuality based workshops? You know, these ones:

The Amazon (Engages on an equal level), the Good-time Gal (About playtime and fun), the Maestra (Virtuosity and sexual skill), The Empress (Likes to take control), The Earth Gypsy (Sensual and spiritual), The Madonna (Nurturing), The Susceptive (Yielding and responsive) and The Seductress (Alluring).

Obviously, NO. NO, and uh, NO, and again just for good measure, NO. These are ridiculous. No matter how you try to say it, this is just a new and improved version of stereotypes. Women are different – they can’t be shoved into neat little boxes according to how “nurturing” or “alluring” they are. More particularly, these archetypes are frustrating purely because of the lack of terms. Sure, there’s a tonne of traditional female-based ones (yielding, responsive, susceptive, alluring, nurturing, virtuosity) and then there’s a few non-gendered ones (likes to engage on an equal level, playtime and sexual skill) and then there’s one (ONE!) measly ‘take control’ archetype – the ‘Empress’ (and doesn’t she just sound like a barrel of laughs). In sum, this won’t be making for gender-equal bedroom fun times, my friends. This makes for females being provided with a number of susceptive, responsive, yielding sexual roles, and only one that I would argue is truly ‘active’. Same stereotypes, updated names.

Femininity is completely up to the individual, and it is none of society’s goddamn business what a woman wants to do with hers. If she feels more ‘feminine’ after running 10 kilometres in the mud and rain, then more power to her. Modern day women put up with enough shit without being guilt-tripped into attending completely bonkers, outdated workshops on how to ‘reconnect’ with their inner feminine strength.

Mama Mia, and selling inadequecies

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I read an interview on Mama Mia yesterday where Mia Freedman (the former Australian Cosmopolitan editor/columnist writer/’Voice of Feminism’) interviewed Caitlin Moran (author/former journalist/ another ‘Voice of Feminism’). And look – far be it from me to be judgey-wudgey about ‘Voices of Feminism’, but there were just SO DARN MANY problematic comments made within one single interview.

Ahem.

So, of course, I’m taking to my soapbox blog to have a good ol’ pass at identifying and commenting on at least one of the comments made.

Mia: You hate Sex and the City, don’t you?

Caitlin: Yes. I think it was an important stepping stone in that it had women talking freely and openly about their sexuality… [but] the end thing that you take out is that it’s an enormous amount of hard work to be a woman, just to look beautiful.

And it’s hard work to be a woman, but I don’t want to put all my effort into looking fabulous and kind of maintaining my walk-in wardrobe. If I’m going to put that much effort into something it will be a fucking Marxist feminist revolution, it won’t be debating accessories. It annoys me that women are having their energy sidetracked. Every Christmas, I used to get a jigsaw, and one year my sister walked past me and she said “Why are you doing a jigsaw? You’ve just bought yourself a problem.”

And I said “I’ve just spent $7.99 to put to together a picture of some trees, and spend three days doing that. And that’s what Sex and the City seemed to be for me, it was women buying themselves a problem. You watched it to the end and you went, “Shit, I didn’t previously know that my life needed to be fabulous and revolve around racketing around bars, experimenting with my anus, and coming up with fifty new kinds of hair.

M: It’s the inadequacy though, isn’t it? It’s that so much media aimed at women and that depict women make us feel shit about ourselves because that’s not real life. I come from a magazine background – I used to be the editor of Cosmopolitan – and I’ve railed against the whole airbrushing/Photoshop bullshit. And I’ve now become one of those mothers who don’t allow magazines in my house.

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Want to know the immediate thought that struck me about “buying yourself a problem”? It went along the lines of “gee, doesn’t that sound like buying a Cosmopolitan magazine”. And my next thought was, “gee, who was the former editor of that again?!”. And then I repeatedly banged my head against my desk for a solid three minutes.

Because, yes, although Caitlin Moran is partially correct in making the observation that “Sex and the City” is a  bit like buying yourself a problem, it has nothing – I repeat, NOTHING – on ACTUALLY buying yourself a problem when you blow $7 or more on a women’s magazine such as Cosmopolitan. I’m not blaming Mia Freedman for being a former editor of Cosmo – because, as she said, she tried to make a difference there (particularly in regards to the airbrushing/Photoshopping crap) but Mama Mia isn’t always a shining light of intelligent dialogue, either – it can, and does, fall into the same trap. Case in point: on Mama Mia’s home page at the moment, they have an ad for ‘Mama Mia shopping’, and right under that, an article on a baby who died from whooping-cough at 6 weeks old. And right next to that, an article on Anne Hathaway’s vagina ‘going viral’, and whether girls are wearing underwear any more. Surely I’m not the only who thinks that’s a case of “women having their energies sidetracked”?

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Do you remember the #fakemamamia hashtag that was floating around on Twitter recently? The Sydney Morning Herald claims that it was apparently started by a tweet promoting an article on Mama Mia, which was written by Rosie Waterland. The tweet read “Am I the only one planning a c-section to avoid the pain and keep my lady parts intact?” I’ve since be told that the hashtag was started elsewhere, by @Shirleymullet, with the first tweet listed below. Regardless, what followed from the #fakemamamia hashtag was an at-times hilarious, at-times snarky avalanche of tweets ridiculing the Mama Mia website. Stand out tweets included:

“The 6 things that will tell you your partner will be a deadbeat dad #fakemamamia” @Shirleymullet

 

“Worried about the latest middle east meltdown? Here’s 15 great outfits to wear while worrying#FakeMamaMia” @RedBaff

 

“This issue: ‘Learning To Love Yourself As You Are’. Next week: ‘Still Single At 30? It Might Be Your Fat Arse And Ugly Head’. #fakemamamia” @deltrimental

 

“10 ways a new red Kitchenaid will save your marriage#fakemamamia” @jarrodbooth

And so on, and so forth.

Look, I understand that Mama Mia doesn’t sell itself as a hard-hitting news website. It’s fluffy, with a focus on entertainment, fashion, motherhood, and other “women’s” stuff. I’m not attacking it for these reasons. But what does bother me is when a website that purports to promote ‘fluff’ then goes on to comment about issues such as victim blaming, and making judgements about the ‘inadequacies’ of one television show – whilst at the same time, trying to also tell me about a female celebrity’s vagina ‘going viral’, and whether girls are wearing undies anymore.

I’m not calling for an all-out women’s war (or as Caitlin Moran said, a “Marxist feminist revolution”), whereby we place a ban on anything ‘fun’ or ‘fluffy’ on the basis of it “side tracking one’s energies”. But what I would like is a little bit of perspective. When a website is able to grab the ear of the Prime Minister and the Opposition Leader, it should take some time to think through and reevaluate some of its opinions. Particularly in relation to car-locking analogies for victim blaming, and attacking Sex and the City for selling “inadequacy” (whilst also trying to sell its own online clothing shop).

Just a little bit of self-reflection would be nice.

How to transform yourself into Lisbeth Salander

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Over the Halloween season, I’ve been lucky enough to attend a few costume-heavy parties. After the realisation came to me that I actually had to ‘dress up’ for these events, I realised I needed a kick-ass costume that was easy on maintenance, and high on ‘scare’ factor. Enter: Lisbeth Salander.

In case you’ve never heard of her, Lisbeth Salander is the main character of the ‘Millenium’ series of books, the most popular of which is ‘The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo’. Two films were created, based on the book: one in its native Sweden, and the second out of the US.

The actresses who played Lisbeth in the Swedish and American versions of these films were Noomi Rapace and Rooney Mana, respectively. You can see them here:

I based my costume more around the Swedish version of Lisbeth – mostly because I think that Noomi’s portrayal is amazing, but also because it was a bit easier to achieve when considering my hair and eyebrows (I was not going to bleach or cut anything).

Let the transformation begin!

BEFORE: No make up, hair relatively frizzy, minus the ‘clothes’ part of the costume.

STEP ONE: Wet and then braid hair. I sectioned my hair off into two chunks, divided by the side part. I then pinned up the top section on my right side, in order to later ‘drape’ it over my face.

After doing this, I braided the two chunks of hair towards the back of my head, and then tucked them up and pinned them. From a distance, it almost looked as though I’d shaved my head, which was the intended effect.

STEP TWO: Apply liberal amounts of eyeliner. Just keep piling the stuff on.

Chuck on as much foundation as you like, and then powder over that. Try and make yourself as pale as possible (I didn’t have very much ‘pale’ make up, but I’m sure you can go out and buy some if you’re super-motivated).

STEP THREE: Apply approximately 543, 289 coats of eye shadow in grey, or black, or dark brown. Can you see how thrilled I am about the eye make up? But in all seriousness, you need a few coats. And then you’ll probably have to re-apply the eye shadow over the top of that.

STEP FOUR: Apply black lipstick. FUUUUN! I always like this bit. I couldn’t actually find decent black lipstick, so I made do with a black eyeliner pencil. It stayed on much better than lipstick, so it may be the easier (and cheaper) way to go.

STEP FIVE: Chuck on your costume. You’ll need whatever ripped black clothes you own, plus a pair of boots. I already owned the shirt, the cardigan, ripped jeans and some combat boots – but it would have been nice to have a leather jacket! The only thing I had to purchase was the dog collar.

STEP SIX: Apply piercings. Great if you already have all these piercings – and if not, you can buy a pack of 10 off eBay for about $6. Super cheap, and really easy to use.


STEP SEVEN: Go out and frighten the masses. You’ve earned it.