Showing posts with label sisters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sisters. Show all posts

Saturday, 28 February 2009

I FEEL the sisterhood!
















Last night I went to see, with much anticipation and excitement I might add  'The Vagina Monologues'. 

I had no idea what to expect, apart from a ton, nay several hundred ton of women, much raucous laughter, and probably much use of the word vagina and many other well used descriptive nouns for this, well yes l guess, well used part of, and I know you know, of course you know, the female body. These nouns included the vagina being referred to as a tamale, a monkey box and a coochi snorcher, as well as many other  naughty words which I do not feel brave enough to repeat here tonight. Although I did last night and in mixed company I might add!

The monologues were compiled by more than 200 interviews conducted by the playwright Eve Ensler about  their female experiences. The monologues were recounted last night with much effort, detail, sound effects and accents to entertain and enlighten us. Facts about the vagina from all over the world were proffered.

Now I live in Carlisle, so l guessed the audience would be from the catchment area and although not in the league of the tough women of Newcastle and other northern climes, who seemingly go out dressed to the nines, as one would for a Christmas or New Years eve party  every night if the week, with not much more on than a silk slip. I wonder if this is where the phrase, 'fur coat no knickers ' was born. Please don't take offence, lady geordettes, but you must admit its bloody cold out there in mid February, in little more than a new born baby wears, even with a few snorts of vodka! The men wear short sleeved shirts all year round, no one carries a jacket, much less clothes! Anyway, what I'm saying is that the northern lasses seem more, well out there, more confident before they drink, more let's have a great time eh? Fine by me. But well, in my dotage I've become a less is more kinda girl, I'm getting to bed when they are just putting on their makeup and glad rags and age hasn't anything to do with it in their book! So I did wonder if I would be one of the elderly ladies there.






Tina Gambe


So three of us went last night, wide eyed and all agog with the anticipation! It was a marvellous experience it has to be said. The monologues, some sad, some hilarious, some poignant and all with one thing in common,a  shared knowledge, a common understanding and like minded women all on the same page for 3 hours was spellbinding. This wasn't like the tribal gathering for a football match, it wasn't like a hen night, when all or most of the women, cackle together jeering at rude jokes and/ or men's tackle and for some who are there under duress, it just ain't usually my bag. It was so much more than that, it was gathering of women, who were as I've said in the main aged 40 or 50 something, some were older and none were younger than mid twenties and those who were, were few and far between. Some were definitely well into their 70's and 80's. None appeared shocked or uncomfortable. 


Sally Lindsay





This was an event for women who had shared a so far unspoken - less over a glass of wine with bestest pals - understanding of their vagina's on several levels. I thought during the show, that my daughter would love it, and I know she would, but probably only on one or two levels, it would not be an event for her for the same reasons, nor would her appreciation of it be for the same reasons. More for the swearing and stories. But not because she has any of  the life experiences that are explored , from life to death and all that is inbewteen is touched upon, nay probed and entered - and in detail I warn you.

I was invited to join in with my sisters - and l use the term sisters endearingly, as I am no women's libber in the tabloid sense, but in the purest sense I am -  together we shouted out words that have never passed my lips in company let alone mixed company and in an appropriate and no-judgemental or guilt inducing setting.  
We the audience smiled at, shared laughter and looks with each other, between total strangers and all knowingly. We really felt at one with each other.

To the 8 men who attended the show we applauded them without apology, as they would've known what they were getting into. Not once were men belittled or  laughed at. It wasn't about the sexes, it was about the sex and the power of our personal sex and how we should worship it and ourselves and be at one.
I thought it amazing, and more and more so since I've thought about it today.



Sue Holderness




I wholeheartedly ask you to embrace the Monologues should they come to a town near you. It is a delight. It cannot offend because every word spoken is true. It made me laugh and cry.  It is a must go see!

Oh and by the way, now I'm not man bashing here, because as I said the show is definitely NOT about that, but here is one interesting fact....
... the clitoris is the only organ designed solely for pleasure and has 8,000 nerve endings, which is twice the number of nerve endings on the head of a penis.
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Friday, 12 September 2008

My cup runneth over ...

A few days ago I received a very touching tribute from a long time girl friend, it was about female friendships and sisterhood.

It made me reflect upon the women in my life and how these friends may also be described as our 'chosen' family.

I have always considered myself to be not much of a girly girl, you know the one who loves to party with a gaggle of giggling female friends out on the town, in a pub or club, sometimes getting sloshed and perhaps even boshed at weekends. I rarely went out with a group of girls or women for that matter and I've always been uncomfortable in a crowded and noisy nightclub, a bar or disco, but I did sometimes frequent them, though rarely drunk, often getting slowly merry and smoking myself into a muggy stupor.

However when the children came, even that stopped for me and I have to say I didnt miss it at all. The women l would go out with to the cinema, a wine bar or for a meal, were usually work colleagues and they soon dropped by the wayside, along with the career girl work. I have to say I didn't and don't miss that at all either.

Whilst thinking about the poignant email and the friend who sent it, I thought about my recent birthday bash, a group of 20 women who gathered to join me to celebrate for a few drinks and a meal. Women work colleagues, my daughter, my sister in law, other good friends and Lynn, my good pal whom I met shortly after I moved to Cumbria, indeed she moved here in the same year.

I have four other good friends whom, now l come to think this through, don't know each other nor have they ever met that l can recall. One friend is from early school, with whom I share a love of vintage fashion and we now both run vintage businesses. One friend is from my fashion world of the early 1980's and another friend is from bedsit land in the late 1970's. My friend in America who sent me the email, has been a very good friend since 1975 when we met and became close at school in upstate New York. All four live the other end of the country but we keep in contact by email and by phone. Visits are few and far between and need strategic planning, organising and timing, similar to the scope of a Mrs. Strangelove.

Just today I met up with fellow blogger Hadriana for lunch and we chatted for the longest time. What surprises this blog business brings!

I have a refreshed, open and relaxed friendship with my mother, (who is now a blogger herself) and we share many interests above and beyond family.

I have always thought one would be rich indeed to have two people to call friends. Since turning 50 last month, I have been more reflective and appreciative of my life,  my family, my friends, but more importantly my women friends. I am actually surprised and humbled at the wealth in my life.

I feel I am truly blessed, my cup runneth over with an abundance of sisterhood! 

Like a moth to a flame...

Everything changes, nothing stays the same, so the saying goes, and yet here I am in a space where nothing has seemingly changed; it is just...