Recently in Guilty Pleasures Category

My gay boyfriend Merv and I, caught on the scene (well more like at my apartment) probably after getting our thizzle dance on.

Now this is really really bad. It is so bad that I can't even believe I am admitting it. And not just because of the rampant misogyny in rap music videos (which is over the top, grotesque and unapologetic), but because I am considered a hip-hop head that should stick to the *real* shit mayne! There is just something about certain mainstream pop-like rap tracks that get under my skin and stuck in my head and before I know it I am head bopping with the best of them and sometimes even wearing my hat to the side with some electro-glasses on.

Mind you most of what I am listening to isn't even hip-hop, there might be some rapping but it is basically R&B and it has a groove that I can't resist. For example I love this Lil Wayne track with Lloyd, it just gets me up and singing. And it isn't just the super mainstream stuff, I like whatever young people are listening to all over the country. I just left the Bay and although it has seen its heyday, boy can I get down with some hyphy music, like E-40 or Mac Dre.

I have written about negotiating my feminism with my love for hip-hop, so this is something I have given a lot of thought to. And frankly, sometimes I can handle it, but most of the time I am thinking, was that really necessary? And there are moments that are so over the top (like Nelly's Tip Drill track) which is just too much for me and I am grossly offended and ready to boycott the artist.

Does this music have sexist attitudes in it? It sure can and a lot of times yes. But it is also what my friends and my community listen to and not all of it is horridly offensive. Some of it is just cute. I actually got into commercial rap by hanging out with lesbians (well that and working in public schools for 5 years). I am not going to make a case for some type of reverse signification where we are reclaiming the music. We aren't, we are human and we like good beats with cheesy bass lines and corny lyrics and relate to the universal themes of sexual attraction, love and heart break.

I have no idea how I will continue to reconcile my love for mainstream commercial hip-hop since I am aware of its nefarious corporate packaging, mistreatment of members and a form of music that people of my generation (from the golden years of hip-hop) consider to be responsible for ruining hip-hop as we know it. However, I will make the argument that I don't think rap/hip-hop is any more sexist than other male dominated forms of music. So maybe your guilty pleasure is cock rock and mine is faux mainstream gangsta' rap. Either way, if you see me dancing somewhere and you are like, "omg is that Samhita from FEMINISTING" just know I recognize the potential contradiction, but also, like everyone else like to have a good time, dance with my friends and have taken myself to the task of mastering the balancing act of hip-hop love and feminist self-preservation.

Most of the time when we write about photographing people on the street, we're talking about dudes who are cat-callers and harassers. But part of my daily internet consumption -- in between the New York Times and feminist blogs and everything I read for my job -- is a healthy dose of street fashion blogs. From Monterey to Minneapolis, Tokyo to Helsinki, many major cities (and some smaller towns) have a dedicated street photographer who sets out every day to document the local style. (Perhaps the most well-known street-fashion blog is the Sartorialist -- not my personal fave, but a classic. For an overview of lots of cities, check out Street Peeper.)

I like that these are fashion photographs featuring people who are not bone-thin, Photoshopped, or posed like marionettes. For someone like me with a weakness for fashion, street-style blogs seem like a lesser evil to the glossy fashion magazines, which always intersperse articles about clothes with articles trying to convince me that five almonds and an espresso is the breakfast of emaciated champions. While every street-fashion photographer is an editor -- in that s/he chooses which people to snap on the street -- I like to think that it's a bit more unmediated than Vogue's fashion spreads, which only highlight clothes from the latest absurdly expensive designer collections.

I know this is a bad (un)feminist guilty pleasure. And I don't even have a good excuse, like Miriam did in talking about reggaeton and feeling some kind of cultural affinity to it. But ever since I discovered spanx (recommended by another feminist blogger actually) I have been addicted to them. What are they? Basically, a girdle, a "power panty" if you will, something that holds in all in so you can put those super ultra tight unforgiving dresses on.

Alright, full confession. I think I am sexy with or without spanx. But feeling sexy everyday is sometimes difficult. I have things to do, like go to work, blog, eat, hang out with my friends, etc. What I don't have time to do is obsess over how I like in this or that which I do my best not to do as a feminist, but it is hard when you are constantly inundated by images of thinness, whiteness and richness. And frankly, if you saw me on the regular you wouldn't think I give it that much thought, I dress pretty casually. But when Friday night rolls around and I want to go out on the town, sometimes I like to look extra fancy and sometimes it feels better to wear something that holds it all in. It just gives me that ounce more confidence. So I go from "damn I look good" to "DAMN, I look HELLA good."

According to this post on Gawker, I should stfu and go to the gym. But you know what? I go to the gym. Mainly for stress reduction, but I go and it doesn't make me look like a super model. It just makes me look like me. Which is fine. But I don't appreciate the insinuation that I am cheating or eating too much and as a result I need spanx. What I am doing is functioning in a world that hates fat people so much that young girls don't eat and even a woman as strong as me, sometimes doesn't feel like she looks super. It is normal and I don't hate myself for it, one bit!

So yeah, I wear spanx. They are simple, they are comfortable and they avoid giving me that thigh chafe us thick legged gals get when our thighs rub against each other all night long. I understand why it is not perfect that a strong, beautiful woman such as myself has days when I don't feel fully fab about my body, but shit I am human.

It's back folks! This series which I kicked off a few months back with the Millionaire Matchmaker edition. As a refresher:

In this series we're going to share a few of our own (un)feminist guilty pleasures. It's those pop culture things that you love, even though deep down inside you know that they might conflict with your feminist values. Maybe it's a show that makes your Women's Studies 101 alarm go off, but you just can't stop tuning in every week. Maybe it's a celeb gossip blog, or an immature movie marketed to teen boys, or high-fashion magazines where all the models look half dead. Maybe you're just human, and humans are complex occasionally hypocritical beings. Maybe you have created your own unique definition of what it means to be feminist that includes all of these guilty pleasures (and much more).

We at Feministing believe there are ways to maintain a critical eye towards these (un)feminist things while still enjoying them. It can even be fun! We think you believe this too and we are psyched to see what guilty pleasures you have to add to the mix.

So on that note, to today's edition, which is reggaeton. Now maybe it's because I'm Cuban, but nothing gets me dancing faster than some good old reggaeton. We're talking Daddy Yankee, Don Omar, Wisin y Yandel, Aventura. I love most of it, but especially the songs with a great dance beat. Unfortunately, a lot of my favorite reggaeton tunes have horribly sexist and offensive lyrics. You name it, it's there. Talk about brutal sex, the objectification of women, machismo at its worse. None of this is unique to reggaeton, and a lot of it comes from the roots of reggaeton, which is a fusion of Jamaican music like reggae and dancehall with Latin American music like bomba, plena, salsa, merengue as well as US hip hop and R&B. (Go here for a great explanation of what reggaeton is, and its history).

That's why reggaeton is my (un)feminist guilty pleasure. I can't stop listening to it, because I enjoy it too much (I even have a pandora station that I'm listening to right now!). Occasionally I just pretend that I don't understand spanish so I can ignore the lyrics, but its tough. What do we do with art forms like music that might use these kinds of sexist troupes? Boycotting the artists does little to remedy the underlying issues of sexism and misogyny that lead to these lyrics. Luckily, there is an alternative for reggaeton lovers who can't handle the misogyny anymore: Ivy Queen, a female reggaetonera has been gaining popularity. Now, being a woman does not guarantee that her music won't include any of the same sexist ideas, but from what I've listened to, it's a big improvement.

What music is your (un)feminist guilty pleasure?

To kick off this brand-new series, I'm going to start with the guilty pleasure that spurred it all, the Millionaire Matchmaker. Now we could probably dedicate a whole post just to Bravo and the gamut of shows they have which fall into this category, but for now I'm going to focus on this one.

I love it. I've watched every episode, including maybe some re-runs. The show is reality style, focusing on Patti Stranger, the matchmaker herself (she comes from a long line of matchmakers). She specializes in taking really rich men and helping them find hot sexy women--to marry. While almost everything about her service (and the show) is based on sexist and debasing stereotypes about women, she makes it pretty clear that this is not an escort service. She even has some endearing things to say about the matchmaking profession, and how if she could do this for free around the world, she would. By the end of the season I started to almost believe her.

Her manhandling of the men on the show also appeals, as she tries to whip them into the shape she thinks they need to snag a woman. And some of these guys are weird.

In the end it definitely makes my feminist alarm bells ring at high volume, especially when I found the link to the service's site. Talk about leggy blonds. But it's fun to be outraged by Patti and her crazy techniques, to poke fun at the awkward bachelors and at this same time hope that someone might find love.

Stay tuned for more (Un)Feminist Guilty Pleasures from the Feministing crew!

Introducing a new Feministing series: (Un)Feminist Guilty Pleasures!

In this series we're going to share a few of our own (un)feminist guilty pleasures. It's those pop culture things that you love, even though deep down inside you know that they might conflict with your feminist values. Maybe it's a show that makes your Women's Studies 101 alarm go off, but you just can't stop tuning in every week. Maybe it's a celeb gossip blog, or an immature movie marketed to teen boys, or high-fashion magazines where all the models look half dead. Maybe you're just human, and humans are complex occasionally hypocritical beings. Maybe you have created your own unique definition of what it means to be feminist that includes all of these guilty pleasures (and much more).

We at Feministing believe there are ways to maintain a critical eye towards these (un)feminist things while still enjoying them. It can even be fun! We think you believe this too and we are psyched to see what guilty pleasures you have to add to the mix. Stay tuned for my first contribution to the series (and the inspiration for it altogether).