BITCH SHIT

The most offensive thing to me about “bitch shit” is not the inherently sexist term, but the fact that it actually exists. Madeleine Albright famously said “There is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women." I couldn't agree more and of course find comfort in knowing there is a deeper circle of Inferno reserved for the men in power who set up these “cat fight” dynamics.

Though I have been supported by several amazing women in my career, I have also been antagonized and betrayed by many. I can feel the energy the second I walk into a room; women often feel competitive with me because of my appearance; they resent my style, confidence, and particularly my weight. Backstage at one fashion show I was eating a cupcake and a woman said audibly to the woman next to her “she needs to eat a bunch of those.” Although I acknowledge that I was blessed with my father’s high cheekbones and mother’s hummingbird metabolism, I refuse to apologize for my genes. Fuck that.

When Joan’s excellent book “When Chickenheads Come Home To Roost” came out, the cover featuring a photo of her regular stunning self, a woman told her she didn’t expect her to be so smart. A female professor gave her shade for having a very expensive purse. What the fuck is that about? That’s some bitch shit.

We women need to celebrate each other, as my friends and I do. Stop taking each other down for some petty shit. I am constantly telling women I think they look amazing or are beautiful. Not just my friends, but complete strangers on the street or in a restaurant. I call these microPROgressions. Spread love, ladies.