a bit of a katie girl.

i am going to tell you a story, but in order to understand the context, i need to first share with you a few key pieces of information:

(1) i am an expatriate minnesotan currently residing in the district of columbia as part of a volunteer corps program
(2) i like to make lists. i have many of them. my lists include “goals for this week” “goals for the next six months” “goals for this year” and a “bucket list” of things i want to do before i die.
(3) on my “bucket list” (besides going to africa and taking at least one clandestine lover) is to ride the tram that goes from underneath the house and senate office buildings to the u.s. capitol.
(4) i am a katie girl.

my story begins sometime last month when a certain d.c. roommate who shall remain nameless signed us up to attend a weekly constituent breakfast with a certain minnesota senator who shall also remain nameless (hint: rhymes with robochar). the breakfast basically consists of doughnuts and coffee in the senator’s office…followed by a few pictures. we were scheduled to go today, so said roommate and i woke up at the crack of dawn to be down to the hart senate office building by 8:30 a.m. for our breakfast with other minnesota constituents. we arrived right on time at the senator’s office, only to see that it was being gutted completely. there were a dozen men (and a few women) in suits waiting to meet the senator outside the office, where a perky intern immediately informed us we would be going over to the capitol building to meet the senator there. with all the men in suits.

now i am never under dressed. i pride myself on never being under dressed. and even though my gut feeling had told me to dress up a bit more…i had opted to wear a khaki skirt and my chaco sandals. i also went by what j. (nameless roommate) was wearing…jeans and a t-shirt. although j. isn’t exactly a style maven, she had gone on the website and seen pictures of the (very casually dressed) constituents who normally participate in this event. we had even giggled as we imagined our white-legged brethren wearing shorts because they were so thrilled about the warm d.c. weather. and maybe even one of those fbi t-shirts. well, let me tell you that there was nary an fbi t-shirt nor a white leg in sight. except for mine.

so the senator’s chief of staff (!) comes to escort us via tram to the u.s. capitol building. insert squeal here. i was actually achieving one of my life goals. something that was on my bucket list. and do you know what i was thinking about? my freaking outfit. and the truth is, i didn’t stop thinking about it for the next hour and a half. and i’m still thinking about it. i’m also thinking about whether a guy would have felt the same way if he had showed up under dressed. would it have mattered nearly as much?

the fact of the matter is, j. and i had an incredible experience this morning. we met a senator. we stood inside the u.s. capitol building. we rode the tram. and i’m still focused on what i was wearing. and how i felt in it. i know they say that clothes make the (wo)man, but what i’m really tired of is how they always seem to unmake me. i am so focused on pants sizes and making sure i carry my kate spade purse label side out that i miss what is really happening around me. a once in a lifetime experience. i am so obsessed with reading about everyone else’s sense of style in fashion magazines, what they weigh, what they eat…that i miss the goodness in my own life. my own style.

the fashion industry makes billions each year exploiting women (and men) by telling them that they have to dress a certain way to be a certain way. that some clothes don’t look good on you unless you weigh 115 pounds. i open up glamour every month and each page becomes a new wish. to be thinner, better dressed, more chic…and while i do believe in the power of a little black dress and kitten heels…what i don’t want, what i’ve never wanted, is for what i wear and how i look to define who i am.

so what i’ve decided is i’m going to have to figure out a way to get back onto that tram. and this time i’m not going to think about what i’m wearing. i’ll be thinking about the sheer awesomeness of democracy (insert audience groan here). or maybe about how surprisingly quickly those bad boys move (and they really do)…or maybe just about the beauty of having an experience you’ve always wanted to have. chacos and all.

xoxo.
ellie

I’m a Katie Girl because of society. Society has created a mold for me that I am simultaneously trying to fight and fit into. Societal pressures are so much a part of me that I can no longer figure out the difference between what I want and what society wants me to want. This makes me complicated.

Who I am in the context of my society allows people to make assumptions about me. For example:

I am female, and therefore must love chocolate and hope to one day have a family.
I am from middle-class white suburbia and must therefore be naïve about issues like racism and poverty.
I am 23 and therefore must enjoy alcohol and going out on the weekends.
I am blond and therefore must be not so smart
I am from Minnesota and therefore must like hot dish and cold weather.
I am from the U.S. and therefore must know how to read and write.
I am a feminist and therefore have to be pro-choice.
I am a math minor and therefore must a nerd.

These are only a few examples, and while some of these stereotypes are true, some are false. Some I embrace, some I fight tooth and nail. Why do I do this? Why am I so afraid to either meet or not meet these expectations? Why do I care about what society says I should or shouldn’t be? I act different around my parents than I do around my friends. My co-workers see me in a different way than my clients do. I am always trying to figure out what people’s expectations are of me first and then deciding whether or not I want to try and meet them. I continually try to decide what I feel and what society has told me to feel. Despite years of searching, I still haven’t figured out who I am and who I want to be. That makes me complicated. That makes me a Katie Girl.

i’d like to offer my formal apology to this week’s katie girl for taking so long to put her entry up on the blog. and for always eating her chocolate chips. thanks for such a thoughtful response. for more information on the katie girl project or to submit an entry, click here.

i think it should go without saying that this woman is a serious katie girl. i met her at an awards ceremony this fall and couldn’t even speak in the presence of such an incredible activist. i tried to tell her all that her work had meant to me as a woman and as a feminist…but ended up only managing to cry and blubber something unintelligible. i would give anything to go to the upcoming v^10 conference, but since money constraints are preventing me from going to new orleans this year, i’ve been reading all i can.

so you can just about imagine my enthusiasm when i came across an entry on blogher.com informing me that maria niles was doing an interview with ms. ensler and would be taking questions from member bloggers. so i submitted a question…and maria asked it during the interview! click here to check it out! while you are at it, be sure and listen to the entire interview.

in case you don’t have time to check the whole thing out, i wanted to be sure and share this with you…a quote from eve that i think embodies the spirit of this project:

i think what it comes down to is this: we have a choice as women to be good or to be great. to me, what it means to be good is that you are polite and you’re well behaved, you don’t say what you feel, you don’t make waves, you don’t get in trouble and you’re not messy and you spend your life obsessing about your body and trying to be skinny…you are so good that you disappear and you don’t exist anymore. or you become great. you make a decision that you are going to be great. and what that means is that you are going to stand up for what you believe and speak your truth and know that there are going to be people who don’t like you and people who love you. and you’re going to be whatever shape, whatever size, whatever color, whatever age you are and you are going to be proud of it and you are going to stand in it. and you are going to end up having a life that is full of mystery and excitement and outrageousness and joy and difficulty. and you are going to be able to withstand being alone, in your own self, by yourself, in the world. and i think you have to make a choice as a woman which life you want…if we really are serious about saving the human species we must take the energy, time and attention you spend fixing your body and direct it toward fixing the world.

i don’t know about you, but i’m putting this up on my bathroom mirror. as i read this i keep thinking about the difference between journeying toward good health and a positive body image and being on a diet. what should our real goal as women be? i know for me it is all too often a number on the scale. a number that represents who i was before i was hurt…before i grew up and before life got so damn complicated. maybe the real purpose of this journey is to redefine strength. to redefine beauty. to create a space for myself where i can feel comfortable…somewhere between a box of thin mints and actually being thin, there has to be a place where girls like me belong. who are never going to be a gym queen and sometimes take a second piece of pie but who also love to hike, do yoga, and swim. who would rather beat the boys on a scrabble board than a soccer pitch. who want to be loved and seen and known as a whole person…not the sum of a few attractive parts.

xoxo.
ellie