“I can’t believe you just said ‘boff’,” I interrupted again. “Evie is rubbing off on you.”
Evie giggled behind Lottie’s face.
“Shh… Boff, sex, shag, fuck, whatever. We started doing it and it was a feminist triumph. Whoop de doo for girls finally being allowed to have sex. And oh my God, we might even ENJOY it too.”
“What has this got to do with Melody though?”
Lottie shot me another look. “You KNOW I’m getting there, it just takes me a while. Anyway, now after this revolution this book argues that things have gone a bit too far. Women, like, HAVE to be sexual now. To the point where our ‘sexiness’ is making us into, like, a sexiness product. I mean, look at the gross porn all the guys at college watch, for one. Or any advert where a woman washes her hair and gets an orgasm from her shampoo. Or the way you can’t buy a pair of denim shorts now that cover your butt cheeks. Or how in adverts for anything, women’s bodies aren’t shown as a whole – we’re just disjointed legs, or cleavages, or hands – just our sexual bits cut off and shoved onto a page to sell a watch or something. Women are ‘supposed’ to be sexy now – otherwise we’re prudes, or one of those hairy feminists nobody wants to sleep with. You see how we’re judged all the time? How awful it is to be described as no one wanting to shag you? We have to be ‘hot’ now, otherwise we’ve failed at life. And if we achieve stuff and we’re not hot – it’s the first thing people lob at us to undermine everything we’ve achieved.”
We let Lottie stop for breath.
“Riiiight,” Evie said, in her slow voice which meant she was getting it. I was sort of getting it.
“So something that was supposed to liberate us has essentially become a way of controlling us again?” I asked, shyly.
Lottie pointed and beamed at the camera. “Yes, exactly!”
I always felt so proud when she did that. She was like our teacher sometimes. She was so going to kick butt when she got to Cambridge. I couldn’t wait for her to be the next female prime minister and point and squeal whenever I saw her on the telly.
“And this makes Melody a pig how?”
“Well, this is the thing I’ve been learning about…” How did she have time to teach herself such things? She was already doing five A levels, needing an A in each. “… We used to be able to blame men for everything. They were the baddies, they were the ones telling us what to do, they were the ones keeping us down, and they were the ones responsible. But in this raunch culture, the sticking point is that it’s GIRLS TOO who are contributing to this bullshit. They’re complicit in their own oppression…”
“In English, please,” Evie said.
Lottie sighed and thought about it. “Okay, sexy girls like Melody have teamed up with male chauvinist arseholes. They’re adding to this bullshit that it’s better to be sexy than smart or strong. Does that make it clearer?”
Evie smiled. “A bit… I think.”
“So now girls are all in on this big quest to be ‘The Hottest One’. Whether that’s by showing off our butt cheeks in those fucking annoying shorts, going to strip clubs for ‘fun’ or pole-dancing classes for ‘exercise’ but really just so we can tell men that’s what we do. Or we’re pushing our boobs together whenever we take a photo, or talking loudly about our orgasms so everyone can hear how sexualized and hot we are. It’s all a big competition. Who’s the hottest? Who’s the sexiest? Who’s winning the most against other women? Me me me me me. This is the problem. They think they’re being all liberated, but actually they’re competing against other women to see who can be sexier to men.”
I digested what she’d said. “And think who benefits from all this the most?” I said, sadly, thinking yet again of Kyle’s hands on Melody’s hips. “Guys.”
“EXACTLY!” Lottie gave me a triumphant point. “How is this good for feminism? How is this our ‘liberation’? It’s backfired. Men are doing really really well out of this raunch culture. Instead of girls burning their bras and fighting to be paid equally, we’re all worried we’re not sexy enough and are competing with all the women we should be fighting alongside – not against – over who has the nicest tits.”
Evie ducked away and came back with another handful of crisps. I watched her eat them with her hands and felt another beam of pride. Her OCD symptoms were getting so much better.
“So,” Evie asked, through a mouthful. “Why is Melody a pig then?”
And, even though I hadn’t read any of Lottie’s posh books, I found I knew the answer. “Because girls like her are just as bad as Male Chauvinist Pigs when it comes to how girls are oppressed?”
Lottie looked like she was going to explode with joy.
“Yes! We’ve become both the victim of raunch culture, and the perpetrators of it.”
“ENGLISH,” Evie and I demanded at the same time.
Lottie sighed once more. “Okay, umm, the do-ers of it?”
I let out a small smile. “So we can hate her then?”
“NO, Amber! Remember, hating other girls is never the answer.”
I pouted. “But she’s a cheerleader.”
Evie finished her mouthful of snacks. “I hate the sound of her.”
“Thank you!” I gave Lottie a look.
“No hating!” she repeated. “She’s still a victim. A very annoying victim, granted, but still a victim of the patriarchy.”
I stuck my lip out. “She doesn’t act like a victim.”
“Okay, fair enough,” Lottie said. “She does sound like a nightmare. And you say she’s all over Adonis 101?”
“Kyle? Yes…”
“Stop looking at the floor all mopey, O American one. I’ve not finished talking. We’re supposed to fight this stuff, remember? I need to equip you to fight Melody.”
“Please don’t say we have to jelly wrestle?”
More smiling. “No… But you can counter her by setting an example. Stop being so hung up on how sexy you are or aren’t, that’s just the raunch culture talking. Being hot is not the ultimate aim – getting equality is. And you’re not going to get respect or equality if you’re too busy worrying that your arse isn’t as toned as someone else’s.”
My tummy hummed with love for them. I looked at the big clock on Kevin’s kitchen wall. Only ten minutes to get to the lake.
“I have to go in a min,” I told them. “They’re trying to put me in a canoe.”
“NO!” said Evie. “We’ve not even heard all your news yet. I want to know if any of the kids are actually called Randy.”
“Just the one.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “Seriously.”
Evie sat back, so she was almost in darkness. “Well, I’ll be darned.”
Lottie and I glanced at each other, sharing the secret face we used whenever Evie talked like a grandma.
“You want my advice?” Evie asked, all knowingly.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
“Oh, you know the meaning of life, do you? You’ve kept that quiet this whole conversation.”
“Yes, well it’s hard competing for airtime with Lottie. But, okay, this advice is not about everything. But about Kyle, and Melody. I can see how it’s making you feel.”
She could see how it was making me feel, even though I was just a collection of pixels on her monitor… She wasn’t blood, she didn’t grow up with me, but yet she could see it all…
“Go on then.” My voice caught.
“Just be yourself. Just be happy being you. The best way to fight girls like Melody is to not buy into all their crap. Be strong, be outspoken, be respected for the right stuff. You naturally do all that, Amber. That’s why we’re friends.” All sorts of bubbles caught in my throat. It was like hiccuping backwards. “How’s stuff going with your mum anyway? You settling into spending time together?” Evie’s eyes were all big and concerned.