Quotes About Femininity

MRS. HOLLINGSWORTH LIKES TO traipse. Her primary worry is thinning pubic hair, though this has not happened yet. She is bothered that a thought of this sort could occur to her at all, let alone with some frequency. She enjoys a solidarity with fruit. She is wistful for the era in which hatboxes proliferated, though a hatbox is not something even her grandmother may have owned.

From the simple stringing together of lemon garlands for the goddess Durga, to dividing the prasadam or blessed foods for the children first, I came to associate food not only with feminity, but also with purity and divinity.

I need a real MAN-- so, I can be a Woman-- We are different for good reasons. We need each other like puzzle pieces. To inspire greatness in each other.

My breasts have a career. I'm just tagging along.

Let men be men -- and let women be women -- Women competing with men- does not help us -- We have better things to do -- like being mothers.

God, she was a sight. Just watching her made his heart beat faster. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was, or had a life of working in pantsuits and facing down society's violent assholes left her unaware of her own feminine appeal?

I don't wax or shave like a lot of women do these days." He laughed. "Good. I don't want to feel like I'm having sex with a 10-year-old. I came of age in the seventies, when natural was sexy. I like bush.

If I ever have a baby, I'm going to have a Brazilian wax first. Keep it pretty, you know?" "Honey, when you've got an eight-pound object coming out of your cooter, the last thing you're going to care about is how it looks.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..... a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...

So, as women, we've got to be pretty damn amazing to realize early on that physical perfection is neither achievable nor useful, and that all that fixing can be toxic.

Women's regular bleeding engenders phantoms.

Every women needs at least 4 animals. A mink in her closet, a jaguar in her garage, a tiger in her bed, and a jackass that pays for everything.

Legs are for men's pleasure, breasts are for babies'.' " - Lib McGovern

Now, I'm not very vain. If I'd ever been, making my living covered in various grease and dirt mixtures would have cured me quickly. Still, I wasn't up to facing two sexy men when I had one eye swollen mostly shut and half of my face black and blue.

I keep forgetting that you're not as empty headed as most princesses.

Some people are cool with the fact that their bodies bear witness to this great thing they produced, their children, and I understand that. But on a personal level, it makes me feel better that my breasts are not down to my knees when I'm undressed in front of my husband.

Thus, gender ideology no only creates ides about femininity but it also shapes conceptions of masculinity.

According to the "Cult of True Womanhood," a popular phrase during those years, a true woman possessed four cardinal virtues: piety, purity, submissiveness, and domesticity.

men hunt by pretending to be the brothers of the prey they seek, and women hunt by impersonating the mothers of their prey.

Girls are small and polite and smiley. They wear dresses and their hair is long and it's pulled into shapes behind their heads or on either side.

But the truth was, Librium and Valium were marketed using such a variety of gendered mid-century tropes—the neurotic singleton, the frazzled housewife, the joyless career woman, the menopausal shrew—that as the historian Andrea Tone noted in her book The Age of Anxiety, what Roche's tranquilizers really seemed to offer was a quick fix for the problem of "being female." Roche

But the truth was, Librium and Valium were marketed using such a variety of gendered mid-century tropes– the neurotic singleton, the frazzled housewife, the joyless career woman, the menopausal shrew– that as the historian Andrea Tone noted in her book The Age of Anxiety, what Roche's tranquilizers really seemed to offer was a quick fix for the problem of "being female.

You wouldn't think a girl in bandages with a blackened eye could be beautiful, but Denna was. Lovely as the moon: not flawless, perhaps, but perfect.

Her lips were red. Not the garish painted red so many women believe makes them desirable. Her lips were always red, morning and night. As if minutes before you saw her, she had been eating sweet berries, or drinking heart's blood.