Boshemia founders asked the staff writers to think about what pop culture creates their feminist practice. V shares her feminist syllabus.
These are the feminist materials that have punctuated my life: my basic syllabus of feminist culture. It is by no means conclusive and there are many more pieces that I would recommend for in-depth study, but if you want to get my everyday feminist references, look no further.
A personal note from E, reflecting on Kylie Jenner’s pregnancy.
On February 1, 2018, Kylie Jenner gave birth to her daughter. On February 4, she released this video, “To Our Daughter,” documenting the private journey of her pregnancy, breaking the months’ long silence re: the mystery of her motherhood status.
Directed by Tyler Ross, with music by Jacob Wilkinson-Smith, the video is sentimental, vulnerable, soft. It’s low-fi enough to illicit nostalgia for old home-video, and its emotional arc is complete with dialogue from friends and family. In 11 minutes, we see Kylie’s interactions over the last nine months with her family and doctors; we learn about her food cravings and changing body; we see her experience her daughter’s heart beat; and ultimately, we hear the sounds of her daughter coming into the world. The sheer degree of raw intimacy exhibited in this video, seemingly unfiltered and unedited, is incredibly human.
I’m keenly aware that many in the feminist community will roll their eyes at this announcement. It’s very on-brand to bash the Kardashian / Jenner empire, and Kylie Jenner is no exception, being a particularly contentious public figure. In our corner of the world, she is known for her frequent cultural appropriation, extortionately priced make-up, and the commodification of her mega-celebrity status. For those who don’t watch the carefully-curated programming produced by her family, Keeping Up With the Kardashians, (and the various television offshoots, mobile apps, social media updates, etc), we learn of her personal happenings secondhand. We read ironic tweets. We see endless think pieces speculating on her cultural influence, critiquing her choices while devouring / ridiculing / worshiping whatever scrap she has thrown the public. Society’s appetite for Kardashian / Jenner inside scoop and propensity for criticism is ravenous, all-consuming, and frankly dehumanizing.
Yeah guys, I get it, 24K Magic is a great dance song and every time it comes on, you know everyone is going to get turnt. No disrespect to Bruno Mars, but really?
For those of you not lame enough to pay attention to outdated award shows, on Sunday night Bruno Mars won the Grammy for Album of the Year against stiff competition. Smart money was on Kendrick Lamar who, at this point, is owed several more accolades. DAMN was one of the best albums of 2017, and after his shameful snub to Faux-Country-Ivanka in 2015, we all thought this year would be the year.
But no, 24K Magic was a solid album. I mean, I preferred it when it was released in the 80’s and called Off The Wall, but no it’s cool. It’s totally fine. It’s fine.
It’s my favourite time of year again: Autumn. The air is crisp and carries the musky scent of falling leaves. The academics are working away at their studies. Many of us are plotting which costumes we will we wear for Halloween or which scary films we’ll watch to get in the Hallows Eve Spirit. There are a plethora of frightening activities and films to enjoy, but there are some real-life woes that are even more frightening. Want to feel truly spooked? Boo-shemia invites you to look no further than the psychological thrill of reality setting in on you like a serial murderer in your basic Halloween flick.
Cole Sprouse may be known to you as Cody from Disney’s The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, he may be known to you as the kid from Adam Sandler’s Big Daddy, or even, most recently never-takes-his-hat-off Jughead from Netflix’s Riverdale.
I too enjoyed his introverted character and, admittedly, his face in Riverdale, but after following his instagram account I was surprised by the nuance of his photography and poetic captions. There’s a lot of rubbish on social media; I don’t particularly care for a standard selfie, nor am I especially riveted by what you ate for lunch, and I’m certainly not interested in 17 post fails so awkward they’ll make me cringe, even if number 11 will surprise me.
However, Cole Sprouse’s instagram is a social media page that I enjoy following and religiously read. It is one of a few successful transfers of art from page to screen that I have seen. Even as our online lives become increasingly ephemeral, I go back again and again to this page.
Instagram is an interesting medium for art. The standard structure of instagram captions is free-verse and you can’t control line breaks—the transfer from typing the caption to its presentation on the app is idiosyncratic, and can change again if you’re reading from the computer site. But this complements the streaming narratives of Sprouse’s longer captions which tangent, then return to the image content, with linguistic elegance.
Yes, yes, I know – floods, Nazis, everything is terrible right now. But you’d be forgiven for not being entirely in the loop; as I’m sure you all know, there’s been a recent major international event that’s been permeating our consciousness.