ALWAYS

Perfume ads. Clothing ads. Magazine ads. We girls are surrounded by images of beauty that do not in nature exist. Our eyes are assaulted nearly every day with ads for products that promise us unattainable beauty. Some of us can't escape trying to achieve these ridiculous standards, and are caught in a self loathing trap of feeling inadequate.

Our brains know that most ads are filled to the brim with Photoshop, but these images still stick with us as a bar for which to compare ourselves.  This clip from the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty really hit home for my friends and me. I was reminded of the need to post this video for those Girls in the Hall who haven't seen it yet when I stopped by the mall on a hunt for some new jeans (I know the general concede is that diamonds are a girl's best friend, but I will take a great pair of jeans any day).

When I first walked into the GAP, I spied this denim section:

I thought to myself that I didn't think that description was what I wanted, and moved on to the next display:

Deciding that I needed to see what the other options were, I walked to the middle of the store. I then came to this sign, which caused me to photograph it and the others for discussion on here:

"ALWAYS" Skinny? Really?! Why don't the boot or straight signs get the same courtesy of an adverb too? I wanted to call up GAP headquarters and ask why exactly it is OK to give a special connotation to the skinny jeans, reinforcing these ridiculous standards of body image. The sign sounded like a bad line from The Hills to me.

I then left in a bit of a huff and went to Old Navy a few stores down, where the slogan "Lights, camera, plastic!" beamed down in bright spring colors from the entrance. The plastic part of the line, for those of you who have not seen the ads, is in reference to their new mascots, mannequins. Could we get anymore transparent than a PLASTIC MODEL as the face of a clothing company? Unfortunately, these are just two stories in the thousands that comprise the rabbit hole of ridiculous beauty standards in our society.

If the media won't do something to change, we need to find strength in ourselves and each other. We are uniquely us--they can't tell us what we should always be unless we give them the power. I vote that we take control back of our minds and tell the world what we always are.

I am always.... creative.
I am always.... thinking.
I am always... on the hunt for another pair of jeans.

What are you always?

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

Time to Grow Up, originally uploaded by R. Elizabeth.

"Everybody knows it hurts to grow up.
And everybody does..."
-Ben Folds, STILL FIGHTING IT

I have listened to this song a lot over the years, but heard it with new ears today, especially this quote. As I reach different milestones in my life, I usually take pause to think about the growing pains and reflect on the past. I guess that might be obvious to you all in light of my recent post about the Dar Williams' song WHEN I WAS A BOY from earlier this week.

I think that the truth for a lot of us is, while we desperately want to be adults and have the freedom that comes with it, growing up does hurt and can suck sometimes. Parents/teachers/relatives/neighbors tell us not to rush it, but that makes us want to grow up even more. The thought of being an adult is similar to being given keys to a secret land, full of promise and hope. We have dreams of driving cars with no curfews, making our own choices, finding our soul mate. We scheme about living in another city far away from the current forced daily occurrences of our high school halls. Yet, as we claw our way up closer and closer to this right of passage, we get hurt (a lot) and are scared to think back. Why is that?

Maybe, while we are so busy looking forward, we forget to look at the here and now. Even though my high school years are gone, a good part of me is still that girl who is wandering the halls of my mind, daydreaming about the hope that is housed in the locker labeled "future." After thinking more about this, maybe I will try to keep my eyes open and take in what is around me--the good, the sucky, the hurt and the beautiful. At least, we can all remember that we definitely aren't alone in this--after all, everyone does have to grow up sometime.

ONE OF THE GIRLS?

"Twins", originally uploaded by roy_mac_an_iarla.

Once again, our boys have brought forth an issue with one of my posts. Yesterday's entry in reference to the Dar Williams' song WHEN I WAS A BOY, was met with the flip side to the coin. While us girls were told as children to "not act like boys" and to sweeten ourselves up to what our culture thinks girls should be all about, boys had just the opposite...

"Don't throw like a girl!"
"Are you crying like a girl?"

We have all heard these and many more expressions of the like. Not to even mention how sexist these sayings are, they carry a connotation to them that is actually insulting to both girls (what's wrong with throwing like a girl?!) and guys (are you saying I am not a real guy?!). Boys were told from early on not to express their emotions, to suppress feelings and act like "little men." Perhaps that is why, when trying to share with your boyfriend your thoughts, it can feel like talking to a slab of concrete (a cute slab of concrete, I am sure). Our culture tells us that girls are supposed to feel their emotions, but express them in a lady like way. Guys are supposed to not allow feelings to get in the way of their manhood, so many of them have learned to shut down. No wonder we don't know how to talk to each other!

After all, Mother Goose has told generations of kids that us girls are made of sugar and spice and all things nice, while boys are composed of snips and snails, and puppy dog tails.

Who has it worse? I think that we both have equally been screwed up by society, but you decide.

ONE OF THE BOYS

Dar Williams, WHEN I WAS A BOY

"When I was a boy, I scared the pants off of my mom,
Climbed what I could climb upon
And I don't know how I survived,
I guess I knew the tricks that all boys knew."

Do you remember being little and running around climbing trees in the backyard? I do. I also remember going to (and loving) car shows with my dad as a tot. I remember bike races and video game marathons with boys (where I often beat them at both). I remember playing in the dirt while scheming a plan to win a long game of capture the flag or dodge ball. Always in the same uniform--sneakers, one of my dad's old t-shirts with my frizzy hair in pigtails--I was a ringleader in the ragtag gang of the neighborhood. Proudly, I accepted my reign as king of the castle.  That is, until one day when they all looked up and noticed that I was a "girl." Suddenly, I became more foreign to the boys of my neighborhood than aliens in the latest sci-fi movie, and in turn, they became as weird to me.

"And now I'm in this clothing store, 
and the signs say less is more
More that's tight means more to see, 
more for them, not more for me
That can't help me climb a tree in ten seconds flat."

I went from being one of them to liking one of them (or, lots of them, over the years). My t-shirts turned into dresses. Tree climbing time was replaced by talking on the phone to friends. The carefree pigtails were left behind in a sea of hair ribbons and brushes. I lost a part of myself moving into being a girl headed towards womanhood, and knew there was no going back.

Sometimes, I look at guys in my life and secretly long to rewind the years and challenge them to a bike race or video game marathon--just to have a few hours to be one of the boys again with no pretenses, where we could just be two kids playing without the complications of social constructs or hormones. Even the thought of climbing a tree while no longer being a kid sounds delightfully ridiculous. I know that this eclipse of childhood where I was one of the boys helped me become the girl I am today. With a sigh, I also know that I'll never again get to be a kid who can spend all weekend getting in the dirt and playing neighborhood capture the flag. I may indeed love getting dressed up, liking boys, and curling my hair now, but when I walk by the playground and see a girl pulverizing a guy at tetherball or kids racing each other on the sidewalk, make no mistake...

"I am not forgetting...that I was a boy too."

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

Not my Prom, originally uploaded by jchong.

Steff (James Spader): 

I've been out with a lot of girls at this school. I don't see what makes you so different.

Andie (Molly Ringwald): 

I have some taste.

-PRETTY IN PINK

As I was walking to the subway yesterday (most of you know that home base for Girls in the Hall is New York City), I looked down by the gutter on my corner and spied something discarded amongst the gum wrappers and other usual suspects of NYC trash that made me a bit sad. A lonely corsage comprised of one pink rose and baby's breath lay there as evidence of someone's forgotten evening. Then, later on that day, I ran into my neighbor who is graduating this year and can't wait for prom next month. I took both of those as a combined sign that it was time for an entry on the subject.

Whether you are a girl who has dreamed of going to prom her whole life or one who finds it to be an annoying expression of a conformist society, prom is a definite right of passage. Regardless of what your opinion is about this event, everyone has one. With all of the moving I have done, I have kind of run the gammit with my thinking on the subject. I could almost do a pie chart:

Case 1: I got asked as a freshman and was told by my parents there was no way on earth I was going to prom with a senior. Thanks, mom and dad.

Case 2: I went with a friend my sophomore year only to discover that he thought we were more than that (after the roses, mixed tape and card, I ran for cover).

Case 3: Instead of going with my first love to prom, I went with his best friend. Awkward. Majorly awkward.

Case 4: Best. Dance. Ever. By this time, I thought that I was over high school and starting again, and considered not going to prom. Then, one of my best friends who was also new to the school, and I made a pact that we weren't going to let ourselves miss it. It was a good call.

I think about prom and a montage of picture perfect clips loop in my brain. However, most of those aren't images of my own memories, but have been planted in my head by movies or books. Who wouldn't want to sway with Edward Cullen to the music underneath the gazebo in TWILIGHT or take part in some insane group choreography a la FOOTLOOSE? My favorite is--no contest--PRETTY IN PINK. Molly Ringwald's Andie is the admirable definition of hopeful girl meets sardonic brilliance. The prom scene in PRETTY IN PINK is one of the culminating moments in the film. Every time I watch it, I still feel the burning anticipation to know who she will end up with, and always feel like a silent BFF cheering her on in the corner when she decides to go to the dance. The quote I chose for this week encompasses how my attitude was about prom for so long--I wanted to both judge and love it at the same time.

How will you spend prom night? Are you too young to participate yet? Will you go stag with a group of friends? Do you have a boyfriend who is taking you? Are you hoping that your crush will ask?

All I know is that by my last prom, the expectations were gone and I finally got how magical a dance like this could be. I can close my eyes and think back to that night with one of my best friends at my side while my boyfriend gave me a kiss on the dance floor, and how precious that moment in my life was. This is the prom memory that stands out for me above all others, and always will. It even beats out watching Andie arrive to the dance in her pink dress--because, quite simply, this memory is mine and it is real. Oh, and the post-prom milkshakes didn't hurt either...

THE BEST BOYFRIENDS... PART 2

Day 65: These two, originally uploaded by Weapon of Choice.

Yesterday's post of fictional boyfriends has started a bit of a debate amongst us at Girls in the Hall. To be more precise, we have heard a couple of protests from boys who read our site. The question brought forth which I feel the need to address is that with Lloyd, Heathcliff, Edward, Holden, etc. to keep us company, how are real boys supposed to match up?

My initial response was to quip back, "How do you think us girls feel? Every day we are inundated with images of swimsuit models, Gossip Girls, and underweight movie stars."

I had never thought that the flip could be true. One guy friend of mine asked yesterday, "How daunting do you think it must have been to ask a girl out who had "I <3 Mr. Darcy" scrawled all over her shoe? If that's the bar, we have no shot!"

We all ended the discussion in agreement that, a lot of the time, both girls and guys put false expectations on each other. Will your boyfriend show up with a boom box and stand outside your window like Lloyd Dobler did in SAY ANYTHING? Will your crush find you in an English garden and confess his undying devotion to you like Mr. Darcy to Lizzy? Who knows... I like to think that there are bits of these characters that do exist in the real boys who we like/love/crush on/obsess over and sometimes let break our hearts.

The truth is that our pretend boyfriends can exist in the happy place of our daydreams, but the real deal is so much more than that. Taking a chance and liking a real guy can be messy. Really messy, sometimes. All I really know to say about this is that when I felt that my heart was breaking (usually false alarms, but a couple of times that was true), Holden Caulfield was there for me every time and I will always be grateful for that.

THE BEST BOYFRIENDS...

the catcher in the rye, originally uploaded by julia_casinista.

Do you have that go-to-guy that you hold all others up to for comparison? I don't mean the hot guy in gym class, a summer puppy love, or your neighbor that you have had a crush on since you both played in the kiddie pool at block parties. I mean the safe crush--the one who doesn't really exist. I'm talking about that magical character that resonates with your heart. Whether it's in a book, movie or song, these boys crawl into our minds and won't let go.

For a long time, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE's Mr. Darcy was the one for me. Sometimes, I even drew little hearts around his name in my notebook, lamenting that our centuries of time difference just weren't fair. My friends were nice enough to not mention Darcy's fictional status in the world, and (embarrassingly) my English teacher was thrilled I was taking such interest in the material. I even scrawled his name on my Converse All Stars with Sharpie, announcing my devotion to the world of my school. Whether it was the absolutely quintessential original from Jane Austen's classic (swoon), Colin Firth's portrayal in the BBC movie (I prefer Mr. Firth, but would take Matthew MacFadyen in the new version as a second), or even the doppleganger in the pages of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE AND ZOMBIES (fending off zombies over a romantic interlude is kinda hot), I was in L-U-V. After some mandatory screenings of the movie over sleepovers, Mr. Darcy became the object of affection for many of my friends, too. In hindsight for me, my obsession was less about my desire to be with Mr. Darcy and more that I wanted to be as confident, smart, and alluring as Lizzy Bennet.

Then, I began a super secret crush that was for me and me alone. I discovered one of my favorite books of all time and made a drastic switch to moving my loyalties to the pseudo idiot savant screw up that encompasses Holden Caulfield in the pages of CATCHER IN THE RYE. This one I have kept inside--until now. How can you not be smitten with a guy who says in the first few pages of the book, "What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of goodbye." While his leaving many schools came from his ability to get kicked out of/or quit them, I was forced by my family to move uproot from school to school. Still, I got exactly what he meant by this, and envied Holden's sardonic ability to make the saddest coming-of-age moments take on a disconnected irony of humor. While I tried to cope by being an overachiever, he was the stark opposite. Here comes another confession--I would often fall asleep with the daydream implanted in my head that after high school/after college/after time to make mistakes, Holden would get it all together, and we would find each other one day on the streets of Manhattan--perhaps both looking for the ducks in Central Park.

For those who have read CATCHER (for those who haven't, DO IT! :) ), you will probably say that Holden Caulfield is far from the perfect guy. You would be right. He is what a lot of us Girls in the Hall would call "hot mess, party of one." I can't clearly tell you all why my crush still remains after these years on this character, because I don't honestly understand it. Maybe Holden has been a consistency for me amongst a life of inconsistencies. All I know is that I go back and reread CATCHER every year to remind myself that I am not alone on the hunt to find out who I am, regardless of how different my quest and Holden's are to find our own truths.



Who is your fictional crush? We wanna know!

WHO ARE YOU?

Stereotypes Conclusion, originally uploaded by happyjumpfrog.

Sorry for the delay in writing, it has been a week of soul searching here at Girls in the Hall. I have spent a lot of time thinking about last week’s Kate Nash quote, and how to learn not to let your true self be put in a box. I only wish for all of the awesome girls out there that this struggle would be simply about learning who you are while not listening to society’s stereotypes. Over the past few days, I realized that this battle of listening to our true selves runs so much deeper in all of us.

While we can vow that we won’t let ourselves be thrown into pigeonholed stereotypes, what about those who we feel count on us existing in our metaphorical boxes? If we are brave enough to show a glimmer of who we really are inside, I think a lot of us wonder how that will affect the people we love or how we will be seen. Let me explain…

One girl’s family is tied up in her success on the soccer team, which is what binds them all together (though she secretly hates it). Another’s family is dependant on her identity to be the second mother to her little brothers, which everyone thinks is so "cute." One girl dates the “dream guy” because she thinks most of her identity is trapped in being the other half of the school’s perfect couple.

On the flip side of this destruction, one girl, who has a genius level IQ, purposely fails a class to defy the pressure her parents put on her. Yet another is on the math team, but really wants to become a painter—since the two don’t mesh at her school, she paints in the secrecy of her room at home and hides the paintings in her closet.

Where does this leave us? We don’t want to be a stereotype, but often breaking free means taking a jump that we have to trust our family and friends will be there for. I have learned a hard lesson this week, that one of the most important things you can ever do is listen to—and learn to trust—yourself. We are all strong girls, and will make it to the other side of learning who we are and how we want to live. The people who love us will come along for the ride eventually, I know it.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

Little Box Girl, originally uploaded by Anthony Got Back.

"Take your time love,
'Cause you don't have to rush,
'Cause it's your life and it's no one else's, sweetheart.
Don't let someone put you in a box."
-Kate Nash, NAVY TAXI

I got a quiz the other day on Twitter (shameless plug: if you are on Twitter, follow us with the link to the right!), that said "Which stereotype are you?" Out of morbid curiosity and in the sake of thorough Girls in the Hall research, I took the quiz, which declared it would tell me how everyone views me. I was nervous, excited, thrilled--at last, I would finally know what all of my peers see when they look at me (note sarcasm).

My result was...um, drum roll, please.... jock. Don't get me wrong, I have the utmost respect for athletes, but other than me going running with my ipod a lot and loving football, the thought of me being put into this category alone is really funny. I can almost hear some of my friends reading this now laughing.

Who am I really? At any given moment, I could be a drama freak, goth girl, prep, book nerd, rocker, poet, activist and, ok, a jock. I bet you out there understand--we are many of these things all at once, and even sometimes none at all. We're so much more than any of those labels could ever describe.

Why are people constantly trying to cram our personalities into a box before we even have a moment to catch our breaths and learn who we really are? We feel pressure to jam our identities into one silly word, and forget to pause to take a breath. So, my fellow Girls in the Hall, I urge each of you to take your time, and don't let someone put you in a box. Unless of course, the box is labeled "awesome," which you all definitely are.