When you look at the above picture — a group portrait of the Congressional freshman class of 2013 — what’s the first thing that pops into your head? Maybe something along the lines of “there sure are a lot of white dudes in that picture!”
Not if you’re “Emmanuel Goldstein” over at Roosh V’s Return of Kings blog. No, he looked at that same picture and thought: American women sure are a bunch of worthless attention whores!
Why? Because some of the women in the picture have the temerity to wear … bright colors!
[N]ot one man appears in bright red, blue, pink or yellow. For the men, it gets about as radical as a light grey suit … The women, on the other hand, have never met a gauche shade of neon they wouldn’t wear. Why are American women so hell bent on attention whoring, precisely in the places where they say they want to be taken seriously? Why do women ‘fight for equality’ by swapping outfits with Bozo the Clown? Why are old white women so desperate to show us their wrinkly cleavage?
I’m not exactly sure how you’re defining “cleavage” here, EG, but I’m not really seeing a lot of it in this picture. Well, none, really. None cleavage. I see one outfit, possibly two, that might under some circumstances reveal a small amount of cleavage.
Not that it really matters, as EG’s outrage is purely for show.
He quotes the late paleo-con Lawrence Auster, who also professed to be similarly outraged by women and their terrible breast-baring clothes.
The way many women dress today, with half their breasts exposed, is an expression of total disrespect for men. Men are left with three possible responses. To grab the woman, which is illegal; to ogle the woman, which is socially unacceptable; or to affect not to notice the woman at all, which is emasculating. A culture that normalizes such female behavior—i.e. not only not noticing or objecting to it, but prohibiting any objection to it—is extremely sick.
Really? Men suffer because sometimes they see cleavage and they’re not allowed to grope or drool? Oh, you poor, poor fellows! Should I prepare the fainting couch?
EG then turns to Laura Woods, the self-proclaimed Thinking Housewife, who once declared
revealing dress in professional settings [to be] a last-ditch effort by women to salvage their femininity. They are living daily lives of masculine aggression and drive. They are pressured to destroy their inherent selflessness and desire to serve. They make their breasts appear overblown, near-to-bursting balloons as a way of diverting attention from what they have become.
Near-to-bursting balloons? Apparently Woods has been watching too much office-themed porn.
Naturally, EG agrees wholeheartedly with Woods:
Hers may be the most potent explanation yet. I have surmised as much about the ubiquity of the color hot pink, as a microcosm of this drive, and it’s popularity as a marketing tool to women. It is an impossibly ugly, tacky hue, yet women love it. These women are not feminine in any meaningful way, yet they think that having a vagina is something to be proud of. Wearing hot pink is akin to liking an anti-Kony group on Facebook to feel like you’re doing your part to fight genocide.
Wearing hot pink is akin to liking an anti-Kony group on Facebook to feel like you’re doing your part to fight genocide.
I’m tempted to stop here, because there’s no way he can get any dumber than this.
But then I remember that I forgot to mention the one man who EG sees as the “male analog to the women I describe.” That is, the male analog to those whorish congresswomen and their oh-so-revealing pantsuits. His name, EG tells us, is
Buzz Bissinger, a GQ contributor who later checked into rehab for a shopping addiction. … Oh, it turns out he’s had some homosexual encounters as well. I’d love to see a straight man test the bounds of ‘equality,’ and dress like these buffoons, and still keep his job.
Damn those bisexual men and their bisexual style privilege! Straight men truly are the mostest oppressed of the most oppressed!
Anyway, here are a couple of pictures of Mr. Bissinger, the male analog, evidently taken while he was on the job:
As you may have noticed, he’s not exactly the “male analog” to the pantsuited congresswomen above, given that in the middle picture there he seems to be wearing NOTHING BUT HIS UNDERPANTS AND SOME WRISTBANDS.
You don’t see that a lot in the Congressional Women’s Caucus.