The Bottom Line Is, There's a Copper-Bottomed Approach to Jeans. Bottoms Up!

So it turns out other people actually manage to wear skirts, and even dresses. (If you haven't read it already, see our rant about the impossibility of wearing skirts (and also jeans) here.) We were having a conversation with some rampant feminazi friends of ours the other day about the struggle to allineate feminazism with the real world. It went like this:

Medievalist (With a Side Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend: I like to keep the scales balanced by listening to rap music but never shaving my armpits. 

The Privy Counsellor: We shave our armpits but take a manly interest in plumbing. 

Friend of Medievalist (With a Side Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend: I scowl at male babies and drop the word "patriarchy" into casual conversation. But I wear dresses.

Note, here, a) the balancing act that is required to perform gender in a socially acceptable way while staying reasonably sane and maintaining a modicum of comfort, and b) the fact that there are people out there who manage to wear things, perhaps even with tights. However, we find comfort in the fact that Bridget Jones, like us, finds it hard to wear skirts without them riding up:

12.15 p.m. Was bloody Richard Finch yelling: "Bridget. This isn't arseing Care in the Community. It is a television production office meeting. If you must stare out of the window, at least try to do it without sliding that pen in and out of your mouth. So can you do that?"
   "Yes," I said sulkily, putting the pen down on the table.
   "No, not can you take the pen out of your mouth, can you find me a Middle-England, middle-class voter, fifty plus, own home, who is in favour?"
   "Yes, no problem," I breathed airily, thinking I could ask Patchouli in favour of what later.
   "In favour of what?" said Richard Finch.
   I gave him a really quite enigmatic smile. "I think you might find you've answered your own question there," I said. "Male or female?"
   "Both," said Richard sadistically, "one of each."
   "Straight or gay?" I exoceted back.
   "I said Middle England," he snarled witheringly. "Now get on the bloody phone, and try to remember to put a skirt on in future, you're distracting my team."
   Honestly, as if they would take any bloody notice as they are all obsessed with their careers and it is not that short, it had just ridden up.
   Patchouli says it is in favour of the European or single currency, which she thinks means either. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Right. Ah, telephone. That'll be the Shadow Treasury press office.  

(Fielding, Helen. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. London: Picador, 1999. Pp. 80-81)

Luckily, there may be hope for womankind after all. After our recent rant, Medievalist (With a Side Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend sent us a sympathetic message about the secret to wearing jeans. It said:

It's hard, this feminism lark, isn't it? Also, my advice re jeans buying. Buy the pair that comfortably fit your legs and arse, and take those motherfuckers in at the waist.

For all fat-bottomed girls out there, this is the only way. I've not bought a pair of pants in ten years that I haven't performed this quick operation upon. Much less stressful!

We have taken these words to heart. Finally, a sensible approach to wearing jeans while maintaining all of one's vital bodily functions! Hurrah! Bottoms up!

We reckon some hardy toilets from a tough, male environment would come in handy right about now. The following photos are from Carspect, a vehicle safety inspection garage in Svågertorp, Sweden. The photographer is Our Mum, who is very ladylike, but totally has this tyre-changing thing down. She also deals with other traditionally male areas like leaky pipes, Latin grammar, and rodent infestations, with style, pizazz, and even brio.

We enjoy this festive green floor and covered toilet-roll holder. There is also disability-friendliness happening,
and the bin is at a very comfortable distance from the toilet.

A lovely sink with a lovely mixer tap, a lovely empty bin, lovely paper towels,
and a lovely, sturdy coat hook on which you can hygienically hang your handbag. Woof!
(See another toilet we enjoyed, that had a very empty bin, here.)

You knew what the festive video was gonna be, didn't you? YEAH.

Festive video - Queen, Fat-Bottomed Girls

Related Reading

Ten Things That Feminism Has Ruined for Me (Guardian article)

A blog post about all the ways in which tights can gang up on you and ruin your day (from Mytightswontstayup.com)

Our massive rant about jeans: All Mouth and No Trousers - Sichuan Food in Singapore

Our most Bridget Jones-esque post ever: "Drunken Routs, in Which More Things Were Broken Than Heads and Furniture, Sister!"

Another post about shamelessly plagiarising other people's words: Coasting Along: Saving Time and Effort by Plagiarising Our Friends. Also Some Otters.

To be honest, there are quite a few of these. Here's another one: Rampant Titillation - Basically, a Real-Life Epistolary Novel!