Giveaway
Så, kära och icke-förälskade människor. På samma plats som skorna och halsduken kommer ifrån på bilden här över tänker jag lotta ut två presentkort med 80 dollar att spenderas i Romwes butik.
(Värt att nämna är att klänningen är från Rosetatu! Om någon undra.)
So, beloved people. At the same location where you can find the shoes and the scarf in the picture above, I'll give away two gift certificates worth $80 to spend! In Romwe that is!
I'm not going to be tough and ask you to justify why you want to win, I think that is somewhat irritating myself (I suppose all people just want nice clothes). However, it will be quite difficult to choose, since I want people to get a chance beyond my favor. Like a dictatorship. We'll make it like this; leave a poem about the patriarchy in the comment section (one line is sufficient, but more is better of course, humour will pay off), the best poems will win the gift cards (I may publish the winning poems too). If you are not a feminist, you can write a poem about seals (walruses are totally ok too) instead! Those of you who participate must register here (takes about two seconds), and don't forget to leave your e-mail in the comment section! It may seem a bit fuzzy, I will summarize;
1. Sign up here
2. Post a comment below with a poem about the patriarchy. If you are not a feminist, write about seals or walruses instead. Don't forget your e-mailadress!
Winners will be announced in ten days
(Worth mentioning, is that the dress comes from Rosetatu by the way!)
Kan inte du visa en bild på hur du ser ut osminkad? Kram!
Sthefannia Alcalde
sthefie25@hotmail.com
I am strong, stronger than ten whole men bound together
Not in muscle strength but in inner strength,
For I can fight, I can endure and I can accept defeat
When I lose a battle.
I am the definition of Superwoman;
Intelligent, sophisticated, sensual, a desirable woman
For those who dare to look closely and realize
Just how extraordinary I am.
haha, awesome rules :D
ksenija.s.aksic at gmail dot com
And ofc:
Fashion is a way of living
And a cruel master to all
To fit in a size zero dress
I'm not sure if that is a smart goal...
(it's too late to be more creative, and the cupcakes I ate for dinner are bugging me :/)
Poem- boom3327@hotmail.com
Oh, the child's eyes rose to the stars!
The sky produced salvation- spirit.
But as her body rose to the light
And she grew in exponential forms:
Recognition of reality.
Father said "hush" and pulled her away.
She scrambled amidst the rotten shade
And cried for the enlightening shine.
Whisper in the dark: "I saw it too".
The truth emerged from the deep abyss.
A female, clad in blanket alone.
Her eyes with tears, but her hand outstretched.
"We shall climb to the heavens and stars,
Grasp the light and follow me, break free!
We shall destroy the patriarchy."
there was a young girl, named Chick
whose bravery 'twas no trick
with a smile on her face
and legs full of grace
she'd take the patriarchy by the...
I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
meow.mew@live.com
Livers become hearts,
no presence, no love,
her poor soul she renders,
to make her man happier and whole,
she brings laughter and sighs,
to her children, they are her life,
oh the woman with the green eyes.
Loove it :) the_monka@hotmail.it
så nu har jag blivit medlem! och jag hoppas haikus (stavelser 5-7-5) godkännes som dikter, för jag hittade några gamla jag skrev som skulle kunna passa bra:
jag skriker i ett
samhälle utan öron
här lyssnar ingen
ge mig inga svar
jag vill inte ens fråga
jag vill stå emot
moll blandas med dur
när du ropar "Kom hit!" i
skäddarställningssits
kram Lovisa
Daisies that grow in fields
Crushed by heavy words
Violence, anger and pain
A woman can only take so much
Before bowing down to a man
Bravery overcomes
Her tiny powerless body
A secret story of her life she passes
To a friend or someone who hears
And gives her strength
To tell her hidden words
Let no man tell her
What she must do to survive
Words of courage she must speak
For all of justice to be served
And then I realized I forgot my email...
facepalm
danalee96@gmail.com
They used to say girls say yes to boys who say no.
Creeps or gents there is no such thing as a "rule".
Girls say yes whenever they want without having to explain.
Girls say no either for no reason.
That's the difnition of girlbeing.
And this doesn't sound like a poem but i do hate rhymes.
Actually sometimes I like.
Yes. I'm a girl...
teenieweenieblog@gmail.com
you have amazing personal style ! great hair color!
http://ilovebananana.blogspot.com/
m.e.bloomquisttt@gmail.com
--
Mother looks down with starry eyes
Her shooting tears rip through the skies
She binds up tight her robe of grey
Clutches her sash; the Milky Way.
Because beneath her welling eyes,
Through stars and clouds and gaseous skies,
Her children suffer silent pain
In never ending waves like rain,
And when their candles are blown out
There's nothing left to feel but doubt.
Beneath the palms and glaring eyes
Are unleashed endless unheard cries,
And in the shards of broken dishes,
No one listens to their wishes.
Mother whispers in soundless space
Through her mask of celestial lace:
"Until the wrongs of men are righted
All women's hearts will be united."
a poem in german:
der Seehund ist gesund
er lacht
er ist kein Feminist
doch er vermisst
die schöne Welt
denn ein Seehund
mag es gerne bunt.
...its about a seal.
ulrike.siemer@gmx.de
making poems haven't gone so well
for those who can not rhyme or spell
i am a seal.
aldrig mer ska jag lyssna på en kille prata om
-att han från lost är med i filmen romeo och julia
-malmös expansion och brottslighet
-kortväxta människors bidrag från staten
-förtidspensionering och boende vid medelhavet
-hans gymnasiala utveckling
-att han är skådespelare och varit med i reklamfilm
-rikard wolffs kärleksliv
sitta brevid och nicka och humma, be berätta mer,
komma hem och inse att jag har haft blåbärsfläckar runt munnen
och känna mig som en idiot.
Du har alldeles lagom mycket underhudsfett
Du kan värma mig
Du ser alltid glad ut även om du ledsen allra längst in
Du kan ta dig fram där jag skulle klaga och säga att det är för kallt om fötterna
Du är det finaste som finns
Du är min säl
norea.bjerde@telia.com skulle jag skriva också!
Jag håller tummarna!
The Walrus willows in the water like a sad mouse... I don't like writing. That is my best attempt.
roxyroro95 [at] gmail [dot] com
Lady on the porch, keeping head down
Shadow like glass
Men on the yard, keeping voice high
Ready for the hunt
They do, what they want
Silence on her mouth, fire on her chest
Her daughter, she and her kind
They broke the silence
They broke the manners
Cut the skirt short
You see the voluptuous flesh
But you will feel the act of consciousness
The principal is new now
Open and flow
And the email addy, dyingnatasha athotmail dot com
Thing them nice,
Thinking we don't notice their glances,
Men must think they are so high,
We think their looks are dagers of ice,
They think their hiding spot is so sly when its just branches,
We want to fly,
Men hold us back,
A king would atack,
solomley swear he would love you forever,
But when they say that do they ever?
Who put them up their?
When I was the heir,
Men have no responsilbility,
So why do we care
Glance quickly,
Turn your head,
Keep your eyes down,
Your time will come,
You crown will brak,
Never too late.
i love everything about your look
and... i as well forgot to put my email adress!
nadiaesra@hotmail.com
Feminist pros to vocalize woes?
Avoiding dichotomies, rape, lobotomies.
Walrus and seals are a simpler deal,
Females defined by Planet Earth's reel.
So...how to design a feminist rhyme?
Perhaps two jokes to stall for time.
1. How many feminists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
...That's not funny!
2. How many women does it take to screw in a light bulb?
...None, she can cook in the dark.
(Awful, huh?)
You think I should have stuck to verse, blogger's choice, keep it terse?
I wonder would it make it worse to draw a Patriarchal hearse?
(I am imagining this accompanied by the Imperial March from Star Wars)
(More importantly, does that metaphor make sense?)
Even so, my time is done.
My tea is cold and sleep has won.
Yet overall my goal is true,
For even men are women too
Okay, this will be funny..
pfitzgeraldclark@yahoo.co.uk
So while you, lonely soul,
Wander,
Think we dress up for you,
Think we must be good,
Only see the outside.
While you wander,
And think you are our master,
But in truth are weak.
Because weak is the one,
Who depends on the weakness of others.
And weak is the one,
Who thinks he owns what is not his.
We will laugh,
And we will be truly ourselves,
And only love who sees beauty in independance,
Andy maybe one day you will wonder,
Why you always wander alone.
Urm..yeah, let's pretend it's a fantastic poem!
Lots of love x
once i saw a walrus
he was quite big for his age
and i said to him
"sir walrus
will you be my trusty steed?"
sir walrus gave a grunt
and a disapproving shudder
leaving out some dinner for the seals
he rode out with me into the moonlight
mangosalad@hotmail.com
I can be..
a lover
a girlfriend
a wife
decoration
but I cannot be ...
a thinker
an inventor
an artist
a leader ?
I study film and I'm sick of seeing films where the female characters are only present to function as a sex object for the men and are only considered important as an object for the male gaze. A test I like to do before watching a film is to ask whether it fulfills these 3 requirements:
1. Is there a central female character in the film?
2. Does she talk to another female?
3. Does she talk to another female about something other than men, sex or being a mother?
It is unbelievably hard to find a film that has a woman who talks to another woman about something unrelated to men. I still love a lot of films that are male-centric but I find myself craving proper female role-models more and more. It makes me sad for the younger generation as they often don't realise that the way the media portrays women isn't healthy or correct.
Oxygen.
You're feeling their glance
Their staring, their drool.
They use you, they make you
Feel like a tool.
A thing, just an object,
A single flower in a field of hay.
They don't love, they don't stay
You're the one they betray.
You, woman, are strong,
It's your life, your song.
You sing what you want
Not letting them hurt you
You go, head up high
Breaking the silence
It's all about fierce
But woman, no violence.
Oh, and my email:
emilija@fashionwhit.com
The little girl asked her mother,
why is it that he, my brother,
he can be the walrus?
The mother laughed and smiled,
oh silly child, she said and cried,
I am the walrus.
I am the strong one in this family,
but someday you will both happily,
grow up to be the walrus.
Both feministic, walrus-y, and a Beatles reference. Boom!
fridafries1@live.com
Säl, säl
I dina ögon tror jag mig se rakt in i din själ
Säl, säl
Jag vill ge dig min kärlek, jag vill dig bara väl
Säl, säl
Ge mig en riktig anledning till varför du säger farväl
Säl, säl
Att jag är en valross är ditt enda skäl
Säl, säl, jag älskar dig.
Of Seals, Walruses And Feminism
Walrus! Walrus! Burning bright
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare she aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? And what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did She smile Her work to see?
Did She who made the Seal make thee?
Walrus! Walrus! Burning bright
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
ragdoll.yeah@hotmail.it
Not long ago and not far ago,
A redhead fairy fell from a star
To an absinthe green, blossoming yard
Where was resting a couple I know.
Clueless priestess, the wandering witch
Asked for a roof in a freezing twitch.
- In return, she would fulfill one wish.
The husband answered in a hurry
«All I want is a wife », whispered he,
« Who is twenty years younger than me. »
Your wish shall be granted -In a blink
Man turned into a seventy old.
Moral of the story, after all,
Man, in their heeled shoes, just try walking !
Cosette, thanks for the giveaway ! Here's your sonnet, I hope you will like it though english is not my mothertongue. I just wanted to add that here in France we have a feminist magazine which is entitled « Causette ». I thought you'd like this little anecdote... :) Fingers crossed !
falteringbird@gmail.com
WALRUS TALE
He lay alone by the murky deep,
bloodied and weak,
the challenge far too steep.
Through the blurred haze their forms began to raise,
he could see the glint of sharpened blade,
and smell their hurried pace.
Flippers slippery and sleek,
eyes adorable and meek,
he wondered to himself...when will this water ever wash me clean again?
I actually stumbled upon your blog today for the first time (Having always been your fan in LookBook!) and was really happy to see this contest--I've never seen a blogger with a cool idea like writing a poem for an entry. I probably took way too long writing this even though it's short, but I hope you like it! I'm more of a storyteller than a poem writer, but it's really fun to try!
Godmorgon patrikariat
Gör mig illamående, yr.
Slunga mig runt i orkaner av självdestruktivitet
Förtär mig baby
Jag följde dig, vi följer dig
Du lovade att jag skulle få bli din drottning om jag följde med
Idiot, tynar bort under självkritik
Förför mig, lämna mig i rännstenen
Försvinn upp i skyskrapor
Chefsjobb, mansjobb
KAPITALSLAV!
Andra könet, upp och ner, fel och konstigt
Kassera kvinnofolket!
Gnälliga feminister och korkade bimbos
Endast en man kan gå den gyllene medelvägen
Dygdetik, låtsasfilosofi
Ge mig manssatir och könspamfletter
Jag brinner av kvinnlig intertextualitet
Godnatt matrikariat, sov ut
för imorgon
är det en ny dag
seals are small, walruses are big, if i don't win this, i'm gonna be sick.
shunyatasonam@hotmail.com
Patriarkatet och matriarkatet skall det vara såklart... Men poesi bryter språkets lagar. Har jag hört...
So it's been two days and I'm still working on this poem. When I saw that the requirement was a poem on feminism I was so excited; I figured it would come naturally since I've thought about the topic extensively. But, I can't seem to get the right balance. Every time I finish one it sounds so academic. I think that's because the style of writing I'm used to now. Don't worry though, I'll have an entry in by the deadline. :)
Yasmeen
<a href="http://castle-fashion.blogspot.com">Castle Fashion</a>
Hi Cosette,
I've finally finished. The most challenging part was touching up on all the different facets of feminism (objectification, victim-blaming, gender roles etc.) and doing so in a poetic manner. But, I'm happy with the result:
Still pulsing, still living in some hearts
So misunderstood, it may just fall to pieces
While some say, “Those days are gone, we are free”
I still feel terrified, small, and weak
Simple thoughts that worry you and me
Like, “Why did I have to choose this dark street?”
Bestowed upon us by the skewed society
For when the crime is done, she's worth blaming
Or reluctantly choosing to work hard and sweat
For perhaps the waters will be murky with tension
And while we are so damn qualified to succeed
Waiting for the discredit with apprehension
And it's not just us that feel such pressure
Looking around it's everyone, together
He certainly can't fit this role or that role
So he stays in the race to end successfully
If you still feel doubtful, feel uncertainty that it applies
Dip these images into yourself and you will find
Physicality, the only thing that means you win
Will bring you glares and dissatisfaction with your skin
More than ever it's difficult to say you agree
Sad they have painted us black triumphantly
But if we manage here and now to win this fight
We'll take our stories with us till the dead of night
Again, thank you for hosting this! :) And thank you for the opportunity.
Yasmeen
yasmeen.fahmy@gmail.com
Trötta på att vifta med plakat
och vara någons trälar
Världen idag är ett askfat
med utbrända kvinnosjälar
Snart tar jag mitt flygande tefat
och förbereder tunnelbaneattentat
Tacka vet jag sälar.
Du drar i mitt hår
Själen är ödsligt lämnad i ett öppet sår
Jag glömmer aldrig vad du sa:
Du kommer aldrig att bli som jag!
Smärta tränger sig in i mitt bröst
Förgör min röst
Hur kan skillnaden mellan dig och mig vara så stor
Jag ser på dig som en bror
Efter förtryck och timmar utan rast
Överger jag min tunga last
Ut i det silverblå jag far
Här finns bara en säl kvar
Och den dömer inte mig
För att jag är tjej
Oops (glömde namn)
I am a female of the new times,
Which means I really haven't any clue.
Men may carry over some belongings,
But women will be altogether new.
Each of us will have to be a sculptor
Carving madly every stage of life.
Our models must be pure imagination
Dancing in the winds of daily strife.
I'm sure there will be much I will regret:
Freedom offers vast fields for mistakes.
But I will spend my time among the mountains
Bathing in the shock of icy lakes.
I know that I don't know what I will be,
And find that total ignorance inviting.
May many of my sisters come with me!
The journey will be painful and exciting.
-----------
I also liked very much the following lines:
<b>
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
</b>
Email: oami3110@gmail.com
Att det kära patriarkatet
föredras av samhället är ingen osanning
Det skrivs 'Låt stå' ovanför på plakatet
det märks varje dag på ord som bemanning
17% i löneskillnad generellt sätt
är något som borde bort
det skulle vara lika lätt som en plätt
men det diskuteras lika torrt
Nu är jag nybörjare diktskrivande med egentligen föga intresse för den konsten, hoppas du har överseende. :)
Jag är feminist men skrev en dikt om valrossar istället, för just ordet valross är så fint på engelska. Vet förresten inget om hur man skriver dikter men att försöka skadar ju inte.
Walrus, walrus, how do we come across?
Your world is divided in two, only if you knew
We never grew
bolder, stronger, colder. Left with moral we cry.
Walrus, walrus, do you call on us?
Feeling anxious, feeling bones made out of rust
clones created, it’s all unjust
Walrus, walrus, I’m not sure how well it’ll end
Will we still befriend?
you are so pretty :-)
http://mademoiselleelisa.blogspot.com/
oh I really enjoyed reading all these poems.
(and because you asked once our favorite authors or books I really have to share my favorites.
I really love Mikhail Bulgakov, Charles Bukowski, Donna Tartt, Daniil Harms, Sylvia Plath etc.
and oh I love reading.
I also love your blog. not because the outfit photos, i love the text behind them. I enjoy reading your thoughts and I find so much me in you based on this blog)
CUTE cuuuuuute shoes!
That picture looks amazing! like something out of a dream, the colours, the sculptures! I love the idea of this competition, it is very inspiring, and i can't wait to read all the poems!
I will be following your blog!
http://rosesandvellum.blogspot.com/
http://frustratedwriterstyle.blogspot.com/
That picture looks amazing! like something out of a dream, the colours, the sculptures! I love the idea of this competition, it is very inspiring, and i can't wait to read all the poems!
I will be following your blog!
http://rosesandvellum.blogspot.com/
http://frustratedwriterstyle.blogspot.com/
Hi ! I just want to tell you that I love your blog: it's full of poetry and esthetic, and plus, you have a real sens of taste for clothing ! ;)
keep on going !
I like her red hair a lot..
real celebrity is she...i dont like the fancy hoollywood today, girls like this deserve a lot of attention
