Posts by dyan campbell
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Or maybe that guy was just an asshole? Because this is seriously not acceptable behaviour in any circles I have ever been in, ever.
Well clearly he was an asshole, but in a culture where flesh has always been visible, by early middle age (as he was in) a guy would have learned to keep his thoughts to himself, much less his hands. He would have been slapped by women, punched by men trying to be gallant so many times by his 30s that he would have long since grown out of that kind of behaviour.
My sister in law tells of traveling in Italy in the 1970s - in the day of very brief halter tops - and some guy grabbed her breast at a train station. Sandy may have looked little, busty and incredibly cute, but she was a karate buff, and she casually broke the guy's nose, and sauntered off to catch her train, leaving him clutching his bloody nose and wailing. Canadians are not nearly as docile as anyone thinks, if you grab their breasts.
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As an international student living not too awfully far from the Canadian border, I’ve been advised to carry all my immigration documentation if I venture within a hundred miles of the border, literally
How times change… the era I was describing (1985) was many years before security was observed domestically (as North Americans traveling within North America were classified) so you no more needed documentation – not even any form of ID – than if you were going to the store for a quart of milk. Even on an international flight, you just turned up with your bags a few minutes before departure, and ran like hell for the gate.
But no, the guy who asked for my passport was not following protocol at all. Protocol dictated that as a Canadian, he nod and smile pleasantly as he waved me through, while examining the passports of non North Americans on the flight, presumably. The ones staying in LA probably. I made that trip all the time, my sister Shirl had a house down there at the time. He was just being pissy by saying “with a face like that” meaning I could pass for South American, sneaking into North America. Or something. It pissed me off anyway, as it was said on the basis of me not being blonde and blue eyed, and as he was up for making the challenge, then I was up for a response, which was a bigger challenge. Which always worked well, based on what I was wearing. Especially if it included an expensive watch.
As for a teacher or any school having any opinion on any form of dress any student is wearing – well, I’m appalled, but I grew up in a place where you had absolute freedom on that score. I can remember in elementary school the fight being won for girls to wear jeans as boys already did, and my sister telling me in their day little girls weren’t allowed to wear pants to school at all, and had to wear weird fabric tubes that matched their winter coats, and had little belts, like on pants or skirts, at the top. They were called “leggings” but as my sister was 11 years my senior – in childhood that seems like a lot – it was no more of my time than my Dad’s childhood outfits and haircuts, so much like Christopher Robin’s.
In the 60s and 70s it was all feminism and Ms Magazine, everyone was wearing kaftans and dropping acid. Canada’s Prime Minister, for instance. How people dressed was purely their own business, and any 14 year old kid – male or female – would have found any pronouncement on their anatomy, its visibility, and what effect that bare flesh has and upon whom – quite perverty and outrageous. Maybe peoples parents minded, but in a school setting or anywhere in public? It’s outrageous. I would have found it so in the 1970s and I find it so now.
Maybe that weird attitude towards women here is why once, at a party here, a guy actually reached out and grabbed one of my breasts and said “OOOrrr, that Paul, he’s a lucky man” and then had the gall to be offended when I dislodged his hand with a windmill movement, intended to startle, if not injure. My Mum’s generation – in Canada – would have been perfectly justified in slapping him as hard as possible across the face. I had a hunch if I’d tried that the boofhead would have punched me back, harder, and he was probably 75kg or more to my 50kg. But for a moment I did wish I was big enough to deck him.
The problem is not with women or girls displaying flesh. If girls want to display flesh, they can. We can help keep them safer, just by teaching them not to accept treatment or comments that are designed to intimidate or denigrate them. We need to teach them phrases like “How dare you speak to me that way?” and “Fuck off, you disgusting old Humbert” or “Fuck off or I’ll scream”. That’s what needs to be said, depending on who is making what comment. Then girls – and boys – can dress however they like. And as Rod Stewart once sang, ’My Dad said we looked ridiculous, but boy we broke some hearts.”
The most offended I ever was, even more offended than when some drunk boof head grabbed my breast, was when some old German dude in Canada asked me if I was a boy or a girl.
I was about 16 and if dressed in baggy hand-me-down shearling jacket from my brother and with my hair worn short and curly under a suede cap or a beret (especially the Newsboy cap) I was often taken for a boy. Which I didn’t mind at all, it was sort of the point but being actually asked what my sex was, a propos of nothing at all, really, really offended me. I said “It depends. Which would you be less likely to ask out on a date?”
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He demanded a passport - something a Canadian didn't need travelling through the USA or Mexico.
Wouldn't your passport be the way you prove you are Canadian?
As a Canadian traveling between Mexico and Canada I didn't need a passport to travel anywhere in North America. A Canadian would no more be carrying their passport in those circumstances than they would be carrying their tax documentation. Nowadays that would be different, I'm sure.
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The concept of a teacher getting away with telling a 14 year old child she "looks like a slut" is what I can't get over - and the docility of the child on the receiving end amazes me. I was mild manned and not remotely rebellious but my response - and most kids I knew would also have responded with "How dare you speak to me that way?" or "Who the hell do you think you are?"
At the very least I can't imagine a teacher making that kind of comment and not being professionally censured. It's rude to make comments about personal appearance unless they are complimentary. Even compliments shouldn't be suggestive, if they're being made be teachers.
In high school in the 70s everyone showed a lot of skin. Boys wore the bare-midriff thing - first with football shirts, then later really short flannel pajama tops, with cowboys and Indians,, showing several inches of abs, worn with jeans. Sometimes not buttoned up. Cute, and very sexy. Not a look any guy over 22 or 23 might want to attempt. If any teacher suggested they looked like rent boys, there would have been quite angry response.
Halter-tops were all the rage when I was in high school - whenever it was remotely sunny outside (they heat schools in Canada) girls would be seen in tops that was as revealing as any bra.
Braless was pretty much standard with most outfits for teens in the 1970. I used to wear a silk charmeuse bed jacket tied at the waist as a blouse, under my Mum's RCAF jacket, and that would have been conservative compared to my classmates, as diaphanous blouses were all the rage. There were plenty of nipples on show among my classmates. Cut-offs - jeans hacked off to the shortest length possible were also popular, teamed with shirts tied at the waist. Or if you wanted to look like a hippy (but who did after 1970?) girls teamed it with a see-through blouse, worn bra-less topped with an open, fringed suede vest. For that look you needed really cute sandals and an showpiece belt.
None of this caused anyone to be sexually active. I dressed much sexier on some days in high school than I did at any time in my life (though most days I wore jeans, pullover and hiking boots) but I wasn't sexually active until I was 19.
Even in my sister's day in the 1950s girls wore pedal pushers, teamed with pop-tops, showing plenty of bare middle. And of course everyone wore short-shorts. J.D. Salinger talks about "short-shorts" in his story De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period.
Who Wears Short Shorts?
In my role at at AIDS Vancouver I was often asked by my boss to "dress sexy" and had a team of gay men accompany me on shopping trips to "sex up" my look. My boss Brian used to say things like "Angel-tits! I need you to put on your Azzedine Alia and go rub up against the Minister of Health" which was his way of saying he wished me to go to Parliament and lobby about the government.
I never wore my Azzedine Alia dress at Parliament - it was a black, backless, very short dress that looked like it had been spray painted on, and it was usually teamed with a black leather motorcycle jacket. Not a day look. Not really my look at all, really, but my husband Paul loved it and it was effective for rubbing up against the Minister of Health at evening fundraiser events that didn't require formal dress.
I've never had anyone suggest I looked like a slut... not sure why.... a boyfriend once told me I had the body of a showgirl and the soul of a librarian. Someone else accused me of choosing clothing as a sort of camouflage... and it was kind of true. But that had less to do with sex or sexuality than power.
I chose clothes that were less "follow me fuck me" than "don't fuck with me". I once was stopped by a border security officer in Los Angeles, flying up from Cabo San Lucas to Vancouver. He demanded a passport - something a Canadian didn't need travelling through the USA or Mexico. I said I didn't have one, and he said "Well in your case, I want to see a passport - with a face like that you could be from anywhere." To that I responded (to Paul's mounting alarm" with full volume rage, shouting "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY? WHAT KIND OF COMMENT IS THAT?? SHOULD WE MAKE A CALL TO YOUR ATTORNEY GENERAL? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE SPEAKING TO??" The little man apologised very profusely, scurrying around meekly to appease me. "I'm so sorry ma'm. I do aplogise." There is such extraordinary power in clothing, but not like Tess thinks.
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You only got “I” wrong – it’s I-yay not I-way.
The version I learned in Wellington in the early nineties was most definitely -way after words starting with vowels, not -yay. Ialectalday ifferenceday, aybemay?
Eery-vay ossibly-pay. Pig Latin
In words that begin with vowel sounds or silent consonants, the syllable "way" is simply added to the end of the word. In some variants, the syllable "ay" is added, without the "w" in front. Sometimes the vowel will be moved and followed by the syllable "hay".
another→ another-way or another-ay
if→ if-way or if-ay
About→ bout-ahay"It looks like these represent regional/international variations. I assumed it was generational (Pig-Latin being a craze among my 64 year old sister's set, back in the 1950s) but as it is much, much older than I thought, I think you're right and the variations are regional. Assinating-fay!
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I would settle for a pony. Unicorns schmunicorns, ponies are the most fun. This is some pretty fancy ridin' from a girl just turned 3.
Sigh, not having much luck with technology this morning, the link below plays if you want to see the clip.
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much as I hate this lecture
typo?Arrrgh, yes, very typo. Much as I hate to miss this lecture, we are double booked...
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Sorry to hijack this conversation (though this is related, somewhat... sustainability etc) but I am anxious to find a good home for some tickets we bought and can't use.
We have some Prof. David Suzuki tickets - and this is his last lecture series before retiring into obscurity. He's here as part of the Readers and Writers Festival..
The tickets - for tonight tonight (Wednesday Nov 10th 7:30 PM) at the Owen Glenn Building 12 Grafton Rd, Lecture Theatre 098 - there are 4 tickets. We are double booked and much as I hate this lecture, we are committed elsewhere.
We paid $15.00 each but we're giving them away free to a good home because we hate to waste them.
Drop in to West Auckland Physiotherapy Clinic, # 3 Captain Scott Road, Glen Eden (phone 818-3125) first come, first serve.
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Like everyone else, I am certainly going to be watching the final Outrageous Fortune (I'm guessing Wolf comes back) but I just wanted to remind everyone Nick Dwyer's excellent Making Tracks is going to be on at 10:00 (on the music channel C4) and I think it's going to be Chris Knox's classic Love Not Given Lightly getting the treatment tonight.
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Lovely piece of writing Jolisa - thank your boys, not just their ater-may - as for
Islander: Iway etbay ooyay owknay igpay atinLay, though? (Darn, bet I conjugated that wrong. Someone will correct me.)
You only got "I" wrong - it's I-yay not I-way.
U-yay eed-nay onetic-phay elling-spay, en-way u-yay ip-flay erds-way.
Translates to:
You need phonetic spelling when you flip words.
Us-play erds-way at-they art-stay ith-way owls-vay eed-nay owel-vay iddls-may en-way ipped-flay.
Translation:
Plus words that start with vowels need vowel middles when flipped.
Pig latin is fascinating because only children can learn it - and they can learn it almost instantly. It is incomprehensible to adults, and often remains so, often despite great effort.