Alright, who saw Erin Brockovich? God, I love that movie. Mainly because I love any movie that makes it seem like being a lawyer just means spending a lot of time researching in dingy libraries, making all sorts of sordid deals with witnesses in dive bars, and having a huge impact on someone's life every single day.
But back to the matter at hand. There's a particular scene in that movie where Erin is talking to one of the members of the class-action suit that she's filing. Because this woman drank the awful, poisoned, CORPORATE water (that's not meant metaphorically), she gets cancer and has to have her breasts and uterus removed. Then, a slightly moving speech follows where she asks Erin if she's still a woman even though her female anatomy has been almost completely eradicated.
I ask myself a variation of this query a lot lately. But since I still have all my bits and pieces, it goes more like this: if I wear my uncle's plaid flannel button-down, jeans that are two sizes two big, and checkered Vans slip-ons at least 3x a week, am I still a woman (who cares about fashion)?
Thank heavens I keep a blog. Otherwise, the important questions just wouldn't be asked!
2 comments:
One movie I've actually seen.
And the answer is yes.
To know something you have to exercise all extremes. A "can't-knock-it-until-you-try-it" argument.
I've seen all your extremes, I think.
Uncle plaids, dominatrix heels, schleppin' around in your sweats, and your incredibly flattering outfit yesterday.
You know it because you know all the angles.
Out of all the questions to ask yourself...
Just paraphrase it to "Can I still be awesome if I wear this?"
The answer is, "Yes, because I'm Alyssa Fucking Vincent."
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