I am a feminist

A school mate of mine, who I think I'd like to be friends with now, told me on phone recently that she has been a stay-at-home mum for about four years now, since her daughter was born. This girl, as I remember her from school, was bright, sociable, dedicated, focused, had an excellent work-ethic and hovered somewhere at the top of our class. I think she had ambitions to do something in the sciences, or perhaps it was engineering, I can't be sure now.

I recently spoke to her again and was very pleasantly surprised that she chose a more evolved stream and did her BA in English Literature. Moreover, after having worked in a bank here in Oman for a bit, she married, settled down and is now a very happy mother to a four-year old. The thing that struck me in the conversation was her saying, "You know,  I am not a very career-minded person at all."

For me, that was surprising, because I know very few women of my generation who are not career minded. We were all raised on the ethic that we needed to conquer the world, we needed to stand on our own feet so that we could be who we wanted, so that we could make our parents proud, so that we could go live the life our mothers dreamed of. We were also raised on stories of women facing every kind of degradation in history.

Very often, without our realising, our self-esteem, sense of self-worth and indeed, the very idea of our Self was deeply tied together with having a career. And in second-generation working women, like me, it wasn't enough if you were in one of the "easier" fields: beauty, teaching, clothes, if you hadn't the smarts to become a doctor or an engineer. Somewhere along, we got the message that we had to go do the "tougher" things. I put easier and tougher in quotes because the jobs listed next to them, aren't my definitions of those words. I don't see what is tough about sitting in an air-conditioned office and doing a 350-word story on summer trends for glasses. You're still a journalist but not doing a tough job. Similarly, I don't see what is easy about being on your feet all day making other women beautiful; bending over to thread women's eyebrows or waxing their armpits or massaging their pedicured feet. Beauty, you will agree, is not easy.

But coming back to my point, for most my generation of women it is very clear that the option of staying home was almost not there, unless you absolutely couldn't help it. But this girl, who grew up in a single-income household, is very happy with her status. And while there's only a hint of apology when she talks to someone like me who has a career (somewhat), she's quite comfortable with the fact that her daughter, her family come first.

For a few days, I have been thinking about feminism. For some years now, I have been hearing women say, quickly and defensively, when they tend to speak up for women and their rights, that they are not feminists. And I've wondered why.

I've seen men say it derisively of a woman, that she is a feminist. I, on the other hand, proudly say I am a feminist. I speak up for myself, I speak up for my sisters, I speak up. I love being a woman, I really like men and I love my career as well as my kids. I strive hard to make my parents proud (whether they see it or think otherwise), I love finding out new things about me and just because I play other roles like daughter, wife, sister, mum, friend, and everything else, I am NO less myself. In fact, all these roles just add to my personality. So what exactly am I missing when people run away from the F word?

Thanks to the feminist movements, Men, your mothers, wives, sisters and daughters can vote, can inherit property and are considered citizens of a country. Thanks to feminism, there are laws where rape, molestation, sexual harassment at work are all punishable. Thanks to feminism, girls have a right to education just as much as boys do.

And women, exactly what makes you say, "Hey, I am no feminist but I really think women should..."? Even if you aren't a feminist in the strict sense of the word, why do you have a problem with being labelled as one? Is it because you, like me, love pretty lingerie and are not willing to give it up? Is it because you think 'feminist' automatically means you need to call men words that a sailor would blush at? Maybe these questions are simplistic, but I am just trying to understand why you don't like being called a feminist.

Because you know, us feminists, don't burn bras anymore. We even get married (to men) and have children. Why, we go as far as telling people that we love being a woman and for us many times feminism means that I get to stay at home and there's no pressure on me to earn for the family, most of the time.

Honestly, that is what feminism means to me today. One of my favourite writers (as she is with many women I know) Alice Walker has a beautiful word for it Womanism. For me, being a woman, being a feminist means now that I have most my rights in place -- voting, education, property, the right to choose my last name, the right to be safe (?) apart from others -- I have the right to choose. I have the right to choose whether I want to go to work and make a career, or I want to stay at home and revel in domesticity. Feminism, for me, means the freedom to choose the latter and not feel like I've betrayed my education and my talent by choosing  to stay at home and considering a family more important.

Feminism to me means having the choice to go to work even though I have children and coming back feeling good that I spent a productive day work while looking forward to time with the kids. It means not feeling guilty that I spent time away from them. Feminism means to be able to my buy my own car or designer handbag. It also means to have the grace to say 'thank you' if a man offered to buy either, once in a while.

Feminism means feeling comfortable to say that I asked my husband out; that I like to cook (I don't; just an example) or crochet (which I like) or sew or bake without feeling like if I say it, people will think of me as domesticated, as a "typical" girl. It means feeling comfortable to say I love cars, gadgets and women without being thought of as a tomboy, or worse, a wannabe tomboy. Feminism means not thinking it's a great thing if you own best bud is a man -- it doesn't make you any different from a woman who's best friend is a girl. In my opinion you should have one of both.

What does feminism mean to you?

More money than sense

Being a journalist is not easy on my pocket. Bad enough they pay my tribe badly, even though for most of relevant history, people couldn't dream of beginning their day without a newspaper. We should have just gone on strike long ago and said the IT guys are coming, so start paying us well or go find your own news. But because most of us have a social conscience and an ego the height of Burj Khalifa, we still continue to wear the badge of news hunters, gatherers and providers (even though increasingly, journalism is hardly that anymore) first and a tax payer later.

These days, I go out to many events that I shouldn't be going to because of the simple reason that I am vain and believe I should dress nicely when I go out to meet people and perhaps network with them. In my carefree,  worse-paid days in India, I used to not care a bit about being badly dressed. But 30 did something to me and if I step out, I gotta have nice things on me. I don't know why.

As I've left behind the inverted snobbery I used to indulge in where I'll deliberately dress bad and look down upon the well-heeled, I feel the need to own a few good pieces that will hold me in good stead these days when I go out on events.

And this post is not about those pieces.

This post is about a little advice I'd like to dish out for whoever is listening or cares. You see, most of these events I've been to astound me with their clutches of similarity.  Almost always I can look at a woman and say what bag she'll be carrying, what perfume she's doused in or whose watch she's wearing.

Older women will invariably wear Dior, more so if they're Indian. Omani women are a little difficult to figure out fragrancewise because a lot of them carry a hint of the frankincense that some of them use at home. But my guess is a preference of Givenchy, Boucheron and some Dior. The younger women, across race, I've discovered, are usually bathed in Davidoff's Cool Water Woman. I am SO tired of that scent, it's not funny. The Lebanese/Egyptian/Moroccan women tend to lean towards Gucci some, especially Envy. Or something just as aqua smelling.

The shoes, strangely, are something a lot of women this part of the world give little importance to. Sure, they've gotta be nice. But it doesn't have to be designer. Maybe it's because it all disappears under the abaya or if they're Indian, the sari, I can't tell for sure, but the shoes almost always are unbrandable.

Which brings me to watches. Omega, Omega, Omega. The grossly underrated Raymond Weil has some really nice pieces but Omega it is on most the wrists of most women I see at these dos. But if they aren't the corporate type big, flashy Guccis, very imaginative DKNYs and Tag Heuer are de rigueur.

Honestly. It may sound like generalising to you but you'd be very  hardpressed to find something that doesn't fit this profile. The rest that goes with this image are: A French manicure and pedicure, rebonded-straight hair (which for the life of me I cannot understand or appreciate because I love curly hair), a BB or iPhone.

And all of it is so boringly predictable it makes me want to yank my nails out from their beds without anaesthesia and get salt sprinkled on the bare wounds. Really, isn't there a strong case for originality already out there?

For example, I've never seen a woman wear a Hublot. I love those things. Even though some of it has gold in it. Agreed they're mostly made for men and agreed I'd have to spend 7 years working 48 hours a day and not spending a baiza of my salary to afford one of those. But hey, almost all things meant for men look really nice on us. And not all women are paid like journalists, correct? There are some women there who can afford them.

Speaking of affording, I keep wondering why people seem to have more money than sense. If I see one more really ugly Louis Vuitton bag, I am going to make it my life's mission to meet the head of LVMH (the handbag section) and dance naked in front of them to My amma say you love me, your Papa say you love me, Love me Love me, till they admit that every time someone buys one of their bags, they fall over laughing because their joke of selling seriously ugly bags at prices for which you can buy an African village is really working.

Seriously. Who they hell comes up with those terrible designs? And if the colours and structures weren't bad enough, they go and splash the entire thing with their logo. Why is it cool to flaunt LV in sequins and why is it not cool to show off Naidu Hall? If you really like designer handbags and insist that the only way you'll get value out if it is by spending what is one month's pay for me, then what's stopping you from going for a Marc by Marc Jacobs, or a Marni. They do it SO much better than LV and in such subtle style.

While we are on the subject, can the dissenters point out the good in LV, please? Just so that I am better informed when I  meet the handbag section guy.

As promised...

Posting my pictures.

My flower pins. My surme daani. Clarins Wonderlength Mascara

My current second favourite. I have one in grey which I think my daughter ate. Otherwise I used to talk dirty to it in Spanish when I was alone.

My latest miracle cure. Superb toner. Also Clinique lipstick in Paprika and L'Oreal Glamshine.

You guys have seen this one before.

Foundation that I rarely use. Eye shadows in gold, green and sienna.

Clinique blush on and eye shadow palette by Nivea.

Another picture of the gold, green and bronze.

Why I will never own any land, buy a house or save any money

I absolutely adore beauty products.

Little pots of swirly, nummy-looking cremes that I first want to eat and then put on my skin. Sleekly packaged bottles of potions that don't need to try hard at all to make me pick them up. Little rectangles and squares of colour that I can paint my face with. Lipsticks, don't get me started on them. I love all of it.

Where I'd readily disbelieve Mathew if he told me that the Sun actually is the centre of the solar system, I don't bat an eyelid when a sparkly blue bottle of The Lovely New Thing From Oh'Real promises to make my skin look like it's just been polished with gold dust. Yessiree, you should see my face when I am in the makeup/beauty section. It wears an expression that is a mixture of ecstacy, complete and utter concentration in case I miss out on one little totally incomprehensible ingredient in the toner, and absolute faith that, because the liquid inside is water-like and the blue is just the right blue, plus the school-project-star label says 'new formula', I will outshine the Muscat sun tomorrow morning. And you all know how bright the sun here in the Arabian gulf is.

In the past, I've had a stock of at least three brands of cleansers and toners, at one single time. Hey, one promised to be gentle on sensitive skin, and then when I went back to the supermarket another promised to have AHAs* and one set was from when I decided for the upteenth time that I would take care of my naturally good skin by being true to the beauty experts' mantra -- cleanse, tone, moisturise twice a day. What's a girl to do?

I've owned green eye shadow, 'pearl', dark grey, gold too. Green eye pencil, various blue ones, grey, silver, copper, gold, brown also. I tend to be boring with only lipsticks -- nudes, and dazzling pinks or crushed berry tones. I've owned creme blush, powder blush, compact blush, gel blush, mineral blush. Mascara -- lengthening, thickening, non-clumping, non-smudging, lash-nourishing. Many compacts (I currently own four. Yes, I overdo life like that), many kohl pencils and absolutely no nailpolishes.

After all my trying and applying -- here are my make up essentials. A bloody good compact, (skip the base if your skin is blemish free and even toned), mascara, my surma and/or kohl pencil if not good old ayurvedic kajal, and lipstick for the day. Depending on my mood and clothing I add or subtract from this list.

For example, today, I wore a classic combination. White linen fitted shirt with dark blue jeans. I initially thought it was a great outfit to wear my yellow shoes with. So I threw on a nice faux gold chainlink necklace, tiny gold earrings, got mascaraed, added some blush and crush-berried my lips. Then I changed my mind and went with black balerina flats (I've been wearing balerina flats for nearly five years now, and they always look good. Fashion pundits can kill themselves) a gun metal bag and replaced the very Beyonce-like necklace with a flower pin. I have five flower pins (yes, you finally got it right, I don't do anything in moderation) in varying designs and colours. And felt like the prettiest woman in a 4-km radius.

I often wonder at my gullibility where beauty products are concerned. My mum makes do with a minimum of products. Cleanser, toner, moisturiser. Not for her are age defying cremes and capsules stuffed with the regenerative bile of a blue arrow frog from South America that only reproduces every four years under a tree that flowers only every six blue moons. You get the idea no? She uses make up and very well, I might add. At 51, she's still a lovely woman. And she buys all her stuff in moderation.

So I often wonder where this insane addiction comes from. I ruled out genetics some time ago. I even ruled out insidious, sneaky adertising brainwashing of the perfect face everywhere we turn. I was only left with something that I keep coming back to time and again -- that however different we may think we are, essentially most of us are wired in similar ways at core of it all. Wait, before I say this, let me wear my flak jacket (in scarlet, if you really want to know) -- Women are wired to like makeup. Makeup products, makeup tricks, makeup lessons, even  make up lives.

That does not mean that that is all they can like or talk about or be knowledgeable about. But fact of the matter is you don't see men queueing up at the beauty section in Lifestyle or whathaveyou, being chatty with the heavily made up, really pushy girl behind the counter and offering her his wrist so he can see if green makes his eyes look browner or if a peach blush works better on his stubble than pink. Women, then, are wired alike in their femininity. (This reminds of another issue I want to write about. Soon, that.)

Our individual dreams and desires might differ but our drives are the same, our pain and joys are the same. So whether you like it or not, women don't wear make up because they are expected to. And wearing no make up doesn't make you more woman or less. Same as wearing make up doesn't make you more woman. Women wear make up because centuries and centuries of women trying to attract their mates have resulted in women being wired to look their best, even if they believe it is for themselves, as I do. (I like seeing a pretty face in the mirror before I go out, so sue me. I don't do it for anyone else.)

Tomorrow, I'll post pictures of my lipstick, my flower pins and my nice pots of eye shadow and slightly dodgy pot of Olay night creme. I tried to post them now but that means taking pictures in the light and both my babies are asleep. Unless you wish me sleepless nights, you should just read this post and go to bed and then come back tomorrow for the pictures.

*AHA: Google it. Some pretend-naturally-occuring chemical that will give you skin like Kate Hudson. Or something.