This is a little... unconnected. I had three rants, but none of them warranted individual blogs. So you get a bumper-blog of leftovers. I'm good to you.
You don't have to like Harriet Harman. You don't have to agree with her. However, I don't really think that her comment "Jack [Dromey, her husband] is not waiting for dinner to be there in front of him or he'd be starving" is exactly a feminist war-cry up there with some of the statements coming out of I Blame The Patriarchy, is it now, Daily Male? Yes, she is a feminist. She is open that she wants to see more women in positions of leadership. Reading endless articles like this - which don't actually appear to tell us very much about Harman's policies are*, beyond an "equality agenda" (oh noes! equal rights!) and her making a comment that the number of women in the workplace is not reflected in the number of women in boardrooms and decision-making positions, particularly in banking - it's easy to get depressed about the state of politics in the UK. The article itself isn't overly hectoring, or particularly nasty - for once - but still, there is this constant undertone of "uppity woman should go home and be a good housewife". It doesn't applaud her outspokenness, doesn't view a politician with determination as a good thing (she's too bitchy, see?), and doesn't do anything to actually argue why Harman is wrong.
The DM likes a good moan about unobtainable beauty standards, especially if run with beauty articles (with airbrushed models) or finger-wagging "vaguely famous person has gained/lost weight/looks a bit tired/isn't smiling like a cracked-up clown on laughing gas/is wearing something not overly flattering" articles. So do those writing the comments. Except for David, in London, who thinks that
"Maybe it's not the airbrushed ads that are at fault, maybe it's all the ordinary women who just need to make a bit more of an effort! Come on girls, raise you're game a little."
Yes. Excuse me, David. Once I've quietened the urge to circle your abuse of the common apostrophe in red pen, I'll just slap on a bit more lipstick. Maybe then my breasts will double in size like Keira Knightly's did in that film poster.
Dear Liz Jones
You did not learn to shear. You washed a fleece, although I suspect that was done for you. You did not card it, or dye it. You did not spin it, you merely posed for a photograph with a spinning wheel (a rather nice one, but a little overly-fancy for your needs, and don't tell me you can move properly in that jacket, you'd be covered in lint too). You did not knit that lace shawl. You admit that in your third to last paragraph. So why the fuck does your title claim you made the shawl with your own hands from your own wool? (this I will allow - it is your wool). Finally - who the fuck is Alison Haggas? Why did you not link to people like British Wool if you're so concerned about the plight of the British wool industry (which is, admittedly, in need of a helping hand), or speak to Jo Watson, who organised UK Ravelry Day. Or link to fucking Ravelry.com, if you're so into your yarn and needles.
Fucked-off Wool Hugger who is actually just jealous of your spindle and your sheep.
P.S. Holistic shearer my left dicknipple.
*except intimating that she'd probably like to have all men castrated or something