More Than A Magazine, A Movement
Mainstream media has a long history of projecting harmful sexist stereotypes which reverberate across culture, reproducing forms of toxic masculinity, violence and discrimination against women. This shows up in aspects of media like photographs and language that sexualizes women’s bodies or gendered news coverage that diminishes or ignores women’s contributions to society.
While dressed in modern garb, today’s distrust of accusers who delay reporting is hardly new. For most of our history, a “prompt outcry” rule was baked into our law, as explained in my book on accuser credibility. The rule rested on an abiding suspicion of accusers, equating delayed reporting with falsehood and allowing only rape allegations reported soon after the incident to proceed.
“It’s just domestic violence.”
“They did not have a good relationship.”
If I had a dime for every utterance of those repulsive, dismissive sentiments from TV pundits and legal experts about the details in the Sean “Diddy” Combs trial in New York, I would donate it to the Department of Justice’s Office on Violence Against Women, to reinvigorate paused funding.
That is because the cultural affinity for survivor diminishment as demonstrated in this case is aligned to the White House administration’s latest reduction of monetary, social, healthcare, housing and legal support for those experiencing domestic violence.
“I need your thoughts on this.” Attached to this urgent text was a link my friend had forwarded to me: An article by Elizabeth Gulino titled, “You Can Buy Sydney Sweeney’s Bathwater Now.”
Upon my first glance at the article, I found myself instinctually grasping for some feminist argument of the campaign, which Sweeney claimed to be fulfilling her fans’ persistent and frankly invasive requests for her bathwater. However, the way our commercial society and the broader marketplace are structured encourages women to market themselves towards those often degrading desires and enables men to continue acting as if treating women as objects is acceptable. And the solution is not restructuring what we construe as feminism, but rather, resisting the urge to accommodate one’s power to what seems like inevitable exploitation.
Defending bathwater products in the name of feminism will not lead us to the kind of liberation we could want for ourselves.
I’m talking both to the man who murdered Laken Riley and the people who use her name to push their own agenda. Laken Riley is not a bill or a law. She was a person.
It’s time for the world to give Laken Riley her name back. Let her family remember her for the life she lived. Let them empower her memory without invoking her name as a political battle cry. And let’s fight for a world where we invoke Riley’s memory to protect more women just like her, and not for another twisted cause.
In the whirling, swirling hellscape of illegality and cruelty that is the current American political scene, it’s hard to keep track of all the individuals and groups demonized, deported and derided by an administration seemingly motivated by a Machiavellian desire for power that might make Machiavelli himself blush with shame. In the midst of an apocalyptic news cycle, one targeted segment of the population seems to be fading from view: women.
But let us not, as Abigail Adams wrote so many years ago, forget the ladies. “Remember, all men would be tyrants if they could.”
Casandra Elizabeth Ventura has described years of alleged physical and sexual abuse at the hands of Sean “Diddy” Combs. Combs has denied the charges, insisting that the sex acts were consensual.
The women’s credibility is therefore critical to the trial’s outcome.
As Combs’ lawyer already previewed, his team will endeavor to convince the jury that the accusers are lying. The courtroom becomes a stage for the oldest stories we tell about women and truth.
A chilling video confirms what Cassie Ventura said all along—reminding us that consent can be withdrawn, power distorts choice, and belief in survivors should never hinge on perfect timing or proof.
No judgment, but the women featured in Evie Magazine, a “conservative Cosmo” for women 18-34, are more likely than not to show off their breasts. In a nod to the tradwife fashion trend, milkmaid dresses with low décolletage are featured on young, voluptuous white women. An article making the case against body positivity and fat acceptance, “The Return of Skinny,” is accompanied by a photo of a busty white woman on a beach wearing a thong bikini. A photo spread of Eva Vlaardingerbroek showcases the Dutch right-wing activist wearing a gold cross necklace—along with her breasts falling out of a low-cut gingham dress.
To people with conservative views, only some women—those who look and act like ‘real women’—get the privilege of being sexy.
Bluey has been praised for challenging restrictive gender norms and modeling equitable relationships and, in a quite different take, for upholding “traditional” values by promoting respect for parents and marriage. Critics have also questioned whether the show is anti-feminist by pointing to misogynistic storylines and limited diversity.
For me, Bluey is a tool. The seven-minute episodes often prompt conversation, offer a thoughtful guide for answering complex questions, and inspire creative and engaging play. The show has real value in our house.
Despite its promise of progress, Blue Origin’s all-female spaceflight exposed the persistent double standards women face in STEM—where success is still too often judged by sparkle, not substance.