I had a rather interesting conversation today - one sided though it was. I meet my mum every Thursday for lunch, and I always like to have something with me to read while I wait for her. Today, I happened to be reading a cooking magazine. A woman of 'advanced years' was walking by when she must've noticed the cover, and made a rather asinine comment:
'I didn't know women still read cooking magazines! Don't you have a life?'
Naturally, I took umbrage to this and responded, I think, quite politely under the circumstances:
'Yes - and mine's just beginning.'
The retort had the desired effect, i.e. she went on her way, but I was still perplexed about what she had said for a while afterwards. To begin with, I didn't realise it was only women who were interested in cooking - someone had better inform Gordon Ramsay if that is indeed the case - I'm certain he'd be reluctant to put his testicles on the butcher's block for cleaving, attached to them as he is. Additionally, although I don't enjoy surfing, horse riding, para-gliding, or rock climbing, politics put me to sleep, and I have more friends on Facebook than I do in the flesh, I object to the insinuation that I don't have a life. Believe it or not, I do consider myself a feminist, but my definition of the word apparently differs to the amateur social commentator I met today. To me, feminism is primarily about freedom of choice. I think women should be free to play football, to hang-glide, to participate in politics, and any number of other pursuits that were considered male domain not so long ago. I also think that a woman should be just as entitled to sew, cook, knit, etc, if she wants to without judgemental life-Nanny's making them feel ashamed. To boil it down to basics, do whatever the hell interests you, because life's too short to be bogged down by others expectations.
*Must remember to bake that woman a special cake. Where does one pick up Ipecac these days?