Well yes, it is now on my lips too; and my keyboard has been sullied.

I watched this ad, and as I watched I remained curiously detached about the whole ‘social experiment’. Now, I like to think (don’t we all?) I usually achieve a certain level of detachment as corporations attempt to sell me stuff, but this wasn’t conscious detachment, like when I’m thirsty and there’s a very chilly-looking glass of Coca Cola on the screen and I say to myself ‘NO Daisy, water is cheaper, better and ethically more sound’. It was unconscious: I didn’t feel like I was being sold to.

It was after a trip to the loo some time later that I realised what was going on. As I was washing my hands I glanced in the mirror, as is my custom. And before I could think about it I had thought idly to myself, ‘Looking good there Dais – loooking goood’. In that moment, I liked my eyes, my nose, my chin. My recently sculpted eyebrows in particular. Bam! There it was. It turns out I am one of the 4 percent of women who DO think they’re beautiful.

Dove pulls out every stop (cheesy music, soft lighting, an elegant New York loft interior, sympathetic, humble faces of the sisterhood) to sell us the revelation that We Are Not Actually Ugly! This message relies on the huge and unquestioned fact (it is actually a fact; Dove’s ‘research’ verifies it) that most of think we ARE.

Left: woman perceives herself to be hideous beast, as evidenced in forensic artist’s sketch to her description. Right: onlooker perceives woman to be conventionally beautiful, as evidenced using same method.

And by relying on that fact and using it to push a message that is explicitly aimed at every woman, isn’t this campaign normalising, if not approving that attitude?

As soon as I realised that I thought I was OK-looking, I had a stupid flash of dismay. Oh God, I thought desperately, I’m one of the 4 percent! I want to be one of the 96 percent; I want to feel solidarity with my sisters! What’s wrong with me?

Bam! There went my detachment. I wanted a glass of ice-cold Coke. I had just been sold Dove’s REAL message.

This is what I mean about the campaign’s effect being to normalise the ‘I’m so uuugly!’ message.

Here is the thing: Dove doesn’t actually want to convince you that you are beautiful. In fact it NEEDS you to feel Not Beautiful, so that it can sell its message of ‘hope’ to you. As soon as you feel Beautiful, you don’t need the message: you are not Dove’s target market; not someone who Dove wants to talk to.

The conversation:

YOU: I’m ugly.

DOVE (patronisingly): No, no! You are more beautiful than you think!

YOU: I am? Well … Thank you. That’s quite a self-esteem boost; all women should feel this way! If only there was a way to spread this warm fuzzy feeling you’ve given me …

DOVE: Well, now that you mention it … are you on Facebook?

YOU: Oh wow … you’re telling me I can be a part of this social revolution? YES! (pauses to Like and Share)

DOVE: Um, just to completely change the subject … do you need some new deodorant?

YOU: Actually, yes!

DOVE: (*ka-CHING!*) That’ll be $3.50, please!

YOU: Wow: this $3.50 feels less like a portion of my grocery bill and more like a charitable donation that’s ultimately going to contribute towards making the world a better place! Keep fighting the good fight, Dove!

DOVE: Aw shucks.

To maximise its target market, Dove needs you to believe the message ‘Normal women think they’re ugly’.

I think  we need to acknowledge that this campaign is therefore a lot more insidious even than some women are accusing it of being. Sure it focuses on physical appearance as the measure of success for women – but not in as compassionate a way as it wants us to believe. And let’s not forget (I’ve been surprised at the people who haven’t stopped to note this) that Dove is not a person, so it doesn’t owe us empathy or respect. It’s not a charity, so it doesn’t need to be a force for good in this screwed-up world. It is merely a brand, which is run by a corporation, which like all corporations has one purpose alone, and that purpose is not a philosophical ideal, it is to make money.

Come on, sisters!

Daisy

Couldn’t wait to log our interview with our just turned two year old. It’s such a cute idea.  And as with all these kind of projects, will be awesome once you’ve built up a few and managed to follow through each year.

Love this yearly photo idea.

And I just saw the ever popular Play at home Moms recently ran a fab give-away [Daisy notes: posted this too late to make this a hot tip; sorry Lize!] … Also in the memory-saving vein. (Note: app not available in all countries yet).

A while ago there was this video going around. The über momento:

So here’s our humble contribution to the archives:

Sitting still is quite hard to do when you’re two. Our interview started on the potty (we have a nappy-free child now).

Note: I asked these questions in Afrikaans. So she answered most of them in Afrikaans. I’ll translate the questions I asked her to English here and her answers I’ll translate in the brackets.

1. Which colours do you like? Parkie (playground)!
I asked again and she said Pers, which is purple in English.  She was looking at her purple jersey at the time.

2. What fruit do you like? Blou, oranje nee groen. (blue, orange no green.)

3. What do you like for lunch? druiwe. (grapes.)

4. Which animals do you like best? Druiwe nee apie! (Grapes, no, monkey!)
Monkey was quite unexpected.  Cat or giraffe or elephant I would’ve thought.

5. What do you like to snack on? Giraffe. Kaas! (Giraffe. Cheese!)

6. What do you like to read? What’s your favourite book? Gruffalo!
Yea definitely one of her favourites.

7. Who are your friends? Leonie sick. Torin.
(earlier in the day we had fun playing with some of our friends. But leonie couldn’t come because she felt a bit under the weather).

8. Who are some of your friends at school? Sue.
(sue is one of her favourite caregivers).

9. What is your favorite song? Wheels on the bus.
That is definitely true!

10. What is your favourite toy? nose blow.
Her nose was a bit runny and she took a tissue to blow her nose.

11. What would you like to be when you grow up, like where would you like to work? Xero.
(Her Daddy works at Xero.)

A lot of fun.  And glad we’ve got  these for the record.

Have fun documenting, or not.  I don’t think you have to have a scrapbook or tons of videos to enjoy your child’s precious early years.  Often living in the moment is more important … Which I have to remind myself of often.

Lize, guilty of taking way to many photos of the child.

• First up, look the part: dress with flair. Layer. Pair patterns with patterns, red with pink. Spice up your winter look with a dash of something summery. (Bikini bottoms over those jeans? Do it.) How would that skirt look on you upside down? Don’t be discouraged by people telling you it’s too big or too small for you: have fun trying.
• Eat what you want, when you want. Make every meal a feast of the senses: touch, especially. Request – no, demand – that toast cut into triangles. Always eat jam with your cheese. Be adventurous. Cucumber pieces with your muesli? Do it.
• Refuse to share the good stuff: food, toys, clothes, cuddles.
• Don’t let anyone try to tell you when you’re tired and when you’re not.
• Be naked. Often.
• Set out to achieve your daily tasks with a pair of socks on your hands. Not making your life interesting enough? Replace socks with shoes; repeat.
• Fight, every step of the way, for justice. They’re having chocolate? You need chocolate. He’s drinking a beer now? Demand a swig of that beer. Don’t let the quickest application of deodorant go unshared.
• Refer to most things (well, things … pets … people: get creative) as ‘mine’.
• Kiss a cat. Go on – give that fella a big smacker.
• Poo when you need to, even if it’s an inconvenient time or place for pooing, in someone else’s opinion. Take your time.

• Find art media everywhere: the garden, the bathroom, your highchair. Dip your fingers in it; make marks with it. Tip it out and smear it, as far as it will go. You can express yourself on most horizontal surfaces, but a good, big white wall is what you’re really looking for.
• Eat moisturiser.
• Moisturise with jam, mayonnaise or toothpaste.
• Love books. Hold them, squeeze them, make towers out of them. Stroke your favourite characters. Turn a book’s pages one at a time, or five at a time, and see what it does to the story. Turn the page either reeeally slowly or really QUICK when you know there’s a good part on the other side. Try reading a book upside down.
• Be ticklish.
• Only ask for help if something’s about to fall on you, if you’re about to fall from something, or if you’re irreversibly stuck halfway in, halfway out of a tshirt that was too small for you last summer.
• Be, uncompromisingly, true to yourself. No exceptions. You are wonderful. You are entitled. You are loved: above all, you are loved. Go live this glorious life: the good times are good and the hard times always end in cuddles (and, if you’re lucky, a swig of beer).

Daisy

Oh and PS the blog is lacking in content at the moment due to the fact that Daisy and family are staying with us in NZ. It seems foolish to be online talking about our lives in the few days we get together.

So I will rave about my tomatoes and if you do find any good old fashioned recipes please share!

- Zelda

Reblogged from The Measure:

When I finally got around to checking out the "controversial" pictures of The Duchess of Cambridge’s baby bump in Italian Magazine ‘Chi’ - I admit my first thought was; ‘She’s on HOLIDAY again?' Does the girl do nothing but jet to exotic locales and wander about the world’s oceans? My next thought was; ‘That's IT?’

There's no question of the weight of responsibility Kate bears bringing a baby into this world who is third in line to the throne - and having worked in entertainment journalism for many years, the allure of getting THAT winning pic of the royal bump is not lost on me.

Read more… 616 more words

WELL! We are just back from the most glorious few days in the Marlborough Sounds, on holiday with Grandma and Grandad!

It was all very Clan of the Cave Bear, squatting round the fire, catching fish (or trying to catch weka), wandering around with nothing much on … totally roughing it without the slightest of home comforts (no electricity and a mere trickle of running water, in the guise of a little stream that did very nicely as a beer fridge).

This little guy bid us a kindly welcome to Motuara, a wee island bird sanctuary we visited by motor boat on day 3.

This is us on the boat. ‘Nem jo [Not good] bumpy waves!!’

Miss Bee’s Marlborough bath.

We got back on Thursday, and bed is still feeling A. MAZE. ING. compared to the foam mats we had in the tent, and it’s an incredible luxury to flick on the jug to brew a cup of tea.

That’s what’s so great about camping, right? Thoroughly enjoyable when you’re doing it, and even more so when you pack up your swag and return to civilisation.

Life is all very aaaah right now.

Daisy

How can a pumpkin grow so huge so rapidly?!

Harvests this month:
- zuchini/ couchette/ marrow
- broad beans
- tomatoes
- beetroot
- pumpkin
- plumbs
- grapefruit
- lemons
- onions
- jerusalem artichokes

Most of my spinach, silverbeet, broccoli and cauliflower have all either been voliated by weeds or gone to seed now.

Time to think about redesigning the old fashioned vege patch.

- Zelda Edwards

* Sprig of fresh mint
* Sliced lemon
* Sliced cucumber
* Ice

Voila – a refreshing non-alcoholic tonic!

If anything Valentine’s Day often leads to underwhelming surprises and money wasted on overpriced chocolates, red roses that look more tired than usual and ridiculous cards. Yes Valentine’s Day is a big fat commercial money maker.

A wise girlfriend once advised me

Never go out to dinner on Valentine’s Day. It leads to disaster!

This woman used Valentine’s Day to reconnect with old friends. Her expression of love was cooking an extravagant feast and serving fine wine. A wonderful alternative to the contrived courtship.

So when the floral courier came to my desk this morning I was quite taken aback. Surely these aren’t for me… They must have got the wrong Zelda…

Of course not, despite making a pact to not give in to Vday pressure. In the heat of the moment my then fiancé had booked flowers at the same time as our wedding. Yes they were beautiful and thank Darwin – there were no wilted depressed roses, just a lovely blue hydrangea. Yes, ignoring my cynical take on Vday it does feel nice to receive flowers.

I had to try my best to reciprocate the gesture with the two year olds help. While the picture is slightly crappy my husband loved it. Apparently it is the thought that counts.

- Zelda Edwards