Cross-posted with permission from Zine Nineteen
This Sunday my friends and I went to see Lady Gaga at the Roseland Ballroom. There was talk of whether or not we’d dress up in Gaga-esque outfits, but since we knew we’d be standing in line for hours and the weather was pretty rainy and cold, we went for being ourselves.
I decided to wear a v-neck tee, a sweater, cut off Levi jean shorts with stockings, thigh high socks, and boots because despite not dressing this way anymore, the community at a concert (especially a Gaga concert) is a safe space to dress however you’d like. Two years ago, this was my staple outfit, but I’m at a weird fashion period in my life right now. Dressing as “edgy” as I used to feels slightly sophomoric to me–it makes me feel like people take me less seriously. Or maybe it just makes me feel uncomfortable because I feel exposed when men stare and make comments when I dress like that. I used to accept it as fact and simply ask, “Have you never seen legs before?” but now I’d rather not be put in the position of having to ask.
Sunday was a mild day in street harassment. A few men broke their necks to turn around, a few others stared, and on the way to the subway platform, two men turned around and made an “mmm” comment (one that makes me the most uncomfortable of all). *By the way, none of these comments happened AT the concert.* Even before the comment and the looks, with just four inches of my stocking-clad thigh sticking out, I wished I had covered up more. I wished I had looked less “sexy.” It wasn’t that I felt more insecure than I would have two years ago, it was that I felt unsafe in my clothes.
The more engrossed in feminism I become, the more aware I am of my own safety and place in the world. Men are taught that they “deserve” women and the less a woman wears, the more she is asking for him. It’s brushed off as something that women have to deal with. It’s just a fact of life that we should be afraid to walk home at night and we especially have to fear it if we are wearing something that brings attention to us. Women are taught that if the harassment continues into our thirties and forties that we should feel flattered, like we’ve “still got it.”
I’m not flattered, I’m furious. It is a legitimate safety concern and it does not start with me changing my clothing, it starts with men changing their thinking. Why do men assume that a woman wearing clothes that show her shape want their stares, their comments, their sex? Not one woman is actually flattered when you break your neck to check out her butt. Not one woman is going to sleep with you when you tell her you want to have sex with her as she walks by you. Not one woman is going to give you her number because you saw her texting and said “Text me instead, girl.” Not one woman needs to smile because you think she should. We are not here for you to observe, to touch, or to speak to unsolicited and I’m not sure who gave you the idea that we are, but it needs to change.
Luckily(?), all of these feelings happened to me on International Anti-Street Harassment Week, so I have an outlet. If you’re interested in getting involved, check out events in your area this week here: http://www.meetusonthestreet.org/action/ and join the conversation on Twitter with the hashtag #EndSH.
Leash is the Co-Founder of Zine Nineteen. She is a New York based feminist who spends her free time arguing her point, devouring cheese plates, and talking about her cat.
