Early summer, just before our last summer holidays, we got into a discussion with a teacher at recess.
He had a topic for us. Evidence. An opinion.
One more year and we'd be done with school. We felt so mature.
His discussion? Why, young girls and body images of course.
Oh, we were so in. He started on the young girls in his class, how they dressed. How they walked. How social media was trapping them. We nodded along, thinking we were talking about the same thing.
We thought we were talking about Instagram's clutch on our young sisters. The twelve year olds with eating disorders. The sleekly styled hair of middle schoolers with baby fat and round eyes.
He pulled out a photo.
A girl. We'd seen her. It was a good pic, her at eye level with a statue in a museum they'd gone to. A class trip. She'd asked this teacher to make the picture of her, all golden curls and brown lashes.
Look at what I had to photograph, he said. Showing us the lace bra peeking through her shirt, the pose she stroke like she was twenty-five.
We said all the right things. How horrifying it was. That society shouldn't do this to girls. Satisfied, he left, pocketing his phone.
That was two months ago.
Someone realised it yesterday. That class trip to the museum was four months ago.
He had kept the picture of her on his camera roll.
Lace bra and baby round eyes.
truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.
Danez Smith, from "summer, somewhere"
unforced error by Meghan O’Rourke
— Nitya Prakash
Robert Frank Nude (Marie) with Cat, 1950
Cloudy day, windy
Your boss' makin a loss
But I told you I'd never eaten this kind of ice cream before
And now I'm back for a second helping
First day it was sunny and I was in a good mood
Today I got no such excuse
The word "smile" is overused by corporate and music that's gentrification misspelled
So I'll commit the greatest rebellion of the industry:
You just looked at me.
Desperate claws in a sunny smile I've trained to be a good customer to the service
I ask you if I should take a cup or cone, your opinion
Well, it's my choice
But you can give me a little more in a cup.
I laugh too loud. Answer too loud. You're making money, I'm spending money.
'i hope to see you again, miss.'
That's not part of the script.
They don't say miss here.
Menci Clement Crnčić (Croatian, 1865–1930), "A View of Novi Vinodolski"
I bought a quarterly needlepoint magazine from 1991 today for $1 at an op shop, and there’s a four page spread about a woman who completely faithfully remakes samplers from the 1600s and the part that blows me away is that she was keeping women in history alive.
The original sampler maker was a teenaged girl called Loara she’s the only one known of seven siblings in that family. She was born approximately 1632 and had passed before her father had in 1656 which they know because it was mentioned in his will.
So in the 1630-40s a girl made a sampler, in 1991 a woman had put in years of research before recreating the sampler as Loara had 350 years earlier , and I’m reading about it in 2024.
Embroidery keeps women alive in history, and it’s part of why I love samplers so much.
Here’s a quote from samplers that I think about often:
(She/her) Hullo! I post poetry. Sometimes. sometimes I just break bottles and suddenly there are letters @antagonistic-sunsetgirl for non-poetry
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