Skinny Jeans and Chuck Bass Dreams-Jayvir Pillay

Let me start off by saying that I,Jayvir Pillay, am no feminist.

I resemble one as much as I resemble a young George Clooney and anyone who has ever been within an earshot of one of my rants or ramblings,laced with innuendo and dripping of sexual undertones will surely bare testament to this. But even in my “swine” chauvinism I feel like I have to champion for the fairer sex.

Whilst the usual demons of gender inequality, sexual harassment, and altogether general disdain continue to rule rife, there is another evil that threatens to undermine the struggles of the womens suffrage. A national pandemic prevalent in Couture retailers, Mini Cooper car dealerships and campus runways nationwide: D.L.G.S (otherwise known as Daddy’s Little Girl Syndrome) 
  Now before you reach for your phone to speed dial child line or ‘alt-tab’ to Google search as every guy has just done, I'm not referring to a new fetish in the adult film industry.But rather a new incarnation of the modern day woman. However these are not the little girls who grow up wanting to be politicians, lawyers or C.E.O’s of the corporate world, but rather aspire to be under them, quite literally. Excuse my bluntness,  I just couldn't resist. (remember that time when I said I wasn't a feminist)

The DlG I'm referring to is commonly characterized by:

• The "devil may care" attitude with which she blazes trails swiping daddy's credit card
•  The designer handbag embossed with the intricately stitched emblems achieved only by the nimblest fingers of Vietnamese sweat shop children
•  The blood flow inhibiting, yet aestheitcally pleasing "let you put your hands on me in my" Skinny Jeans.Don't mind if i do(no feminist resides here)
• The tell tale"O-M-G"  

And deep within the recesses of these designer handbags behind the rhinestone encrusted phone and under the make up department, (don't hold your breathe) you might find some sort of reminisce of a student card,conveniently so because lets be honest; What can you fit in those jean pockets apart from the odd airtime voucher or stick of gum?? 

(I’m not really sure what it is that they eat because in captivity you'll never witness it.But its rumored they can survive on attention alone. Oh,and stem cells)  

Now it's at this juncture, if you haven't already stopped reading, that you may ask why I'm going on this tirade and why I should even care? Perhaps a scorned lover? A skeleton in the closet? But the all earnest truth is that as impending as the laws of natural selection, one day I'm eventually going to have to find a woman willing to listen to me bitch (case in point) for the rest of our happily ever after. The problem is that given the current selection in the much diluted gene pool, all will be well for now. But what of the future? What will my porch mate and I talk about when Gossip Girl goes off the air?

So her parents raised her with good wholesome values, kept her under lock and key away from anything with a y-chromosome,but they still couldn't keep her off the pole. There's a whole multitude of possible reasons for her succumbing to the clear heels: Abandonment issues, Mommy issues, Daddy issues and Twilight issues. But ultimately the one scape-goat which we have come to love and hate is the media. In the interest of not flogging said goat to near extinction I shall merely dabble on the subject. 

I don't need to tell you that good female role models are few and far between, and unfortunately the good ones simply cannot compete which the advertising budgets of the celebrities/amateur adult film enthusiasts. The glossy covers on magazine stands depict images of unrealistic beauty which girls today pursue to emulate whilst those same models pursue their own (Columbian) habits.

The body issues I can deal with. Ask me if your ass looks big in those jeans. Go ahead and ask me. But one thing I just can't deal with is the fake ignorance.The "OMG thats like soO funny". Why do smart girls often feel the need to act clueless to get attention? Its beyond me. I get it, its cute…for about 5 minutes. But ultimately all it means is that men will entertain you but never take you seriously. I'm not saying I haven't enjoyed the fruits of the promiscuity that the “channel 124” generation brought to the table (I don't know if I mentioned this..but I'm not a feminist) but there comes a time when every guy must bring home the future carrier of seed and I'm sorry but no one is going to take home the ditsy and clueless prom queen. Sure we'll wine and dine you, but you wont find a ring in your glass. No Vera Wang for you.

 Sure,you can blame the media and the Western world all you want but it's the home and society we grow up which builds the foundations of who we become as we embark into the great blue and green.

The most prevalent,and yet grossly understated,factor of social pressure is from parents themselves,who often replace text books with Indian Delights and lunch boxes with AMC. The sheer fact is that most young girls in our community are being bred solely to marry and reproduce. Not as openly agreed upon but its what effectively is happening. The pressure to find a husband and learn to please him (having the roti hot and ready by 6:30) trumps any academic ambition other than that of Home Executive Phd Cum Laude. I know that being a mother and home maker is the noblest profession in existence and its role underplayed , but surely this mentality of the women's place being in the kitchen,and on the mantle piece,should have stayed in the past with the customs of burning witches and sacrificing virgins. All I'm really saying then is that when you fail to place an emphasis on a good education or any independence on your daughter, what you're basically doing is burning every bridge she has.

Why is it that the role of the parents is so underplayed? Well cos mummy and daddy always know best right…right?

Allow me to entertain the hypothetical:

Daddy finds his little pride and joy a “nice boy” from a prominent family. (for all intensive purposes, nice = he wont make us look bad, and prominent = Opera rich)

8 months later, not 9, he has his first grand child.

Now fast forward a few more years , and the hubby has developed a habit of making frequent “business trips” and slapping around the wife a little. What then? What does the daughter whose best interest he thought he had when marrying her off fresh out the womb do? She can't leave him because she has no means of supporting herself or her children,and leave alone most important of all: “What will people think”. But that's an entirely different road that I'm not even going to go down. My apologies for that brief reality come Soul City tragedy moment there, but it's the truth and its happening. And I'm going to reiterate that I know that this isn't happening in every household, but isn't just one, one too many?

So the product (DLG) we reach is a spoilt Prima Donna who never had any emphasis put on her to do anything but bide time till a “nice boy” “comes home” and they become carriers of genetic code.A girl who hopes said boy has a budget at his disposal big enough to resolve Africa's debt and outfit her walk-in closet with enough Prada & Co to keep up with the Joneses . No less a girl who needs a father and not a husband. You can call me daddy all you want but its not going to make it true.

The point and plea I'm reaching (yes there was a point) is that girls of today not go easily into the night. We'll never change the mindsets of our parents generation but we can at least do right by the next one. Girls, you will never be seen as equal by those ignorant chauvinists unless you stand up and demand the respect from them. Stop worshiping false idols and forcing yourself to fit into social moulds and circles who will welcome you with open arms and then reject you with the fickleness of a toddler…

I am in no doubt that many of my fellow brethren want nothing more than one of those trophy Stepford wives who'll always have the tea just the right temperature and never have any anything to say, but I am not one of them.Where's the fun in that? So I beg of all woman to wake up and smell the briyani burning on the stove , cos I'm tired of the near impossible task of finding one that has,and getting my ass kicked in search of the alternative.

Until then, if you do decide to go against the grain… I have wood. (Did I mention that I wasn't a feminist?)