Gettin' Wiggy With It

You wanna know how to start a blog post? Pose a question.

LOL see what I did there? AND THERE?!

Okay but fo serious, I went to a party about a month or so ago and had an absolute blast. Let me paint you a picture: A group of female human beings, sitting around on the floor consuming sangria and other various assortments of alcohol. Great music, good butt pillows (essential for floor-sitting), delicious pot luck food, and WIGS.

Back in university this wouldn't have been a shock at all, but it's so much fun, so refreshing, to have a silly and wild themed party now that my days at Memorial are over. And these wigs were awesome. We had pinks, blues, greens, purples. We had long 'dos, sassy bobs, curls and pin straight locks. You would think that this would have been the highlight of the night, but it wasn't.

When you're a guest of Kristin's, you smile with the shark. Period.

 My highlight was the amazing camaraderie I felt with this smattering of women, many of whom I'd never met. Women are taught both overtly and insidiously to hate other women. We are taught to compete, to measure ourselves not against our past or our future selves, but against other women. We are told that our success is subjective and subject to comparison at all times. It is not enough to be just one thing. We must be all things, but only in moderation. Any explosive display of talent, passion or intelligence must be tamped down. We must never forget that a large portion of our personal wealth is made up not of integrity, wisdom, and accomplishments but in a patriarchal construct of beauty and feminine ideal.

But that constant weight was not felt on this evening. Women I'd never met complimented me not on my wig (which was fabulous) but on my sense of humour. I swear I had the biggest smile. Another woman there was a fellow classically trained singer and after showing off some impressive chops, encountered nothing but happiness from her audience. Our hostess made a ridiculously delicious pulled pork and we raved. One girl simultaneously showed me her tattoos, baby niece, and love of Christmas, to my delight.

We talked about our education, careers and goals. We discussed travel, politics and family. Petty gossip was checked at the door. Girl hate had no place in this circle. It was pretty amazing. Unlike the costume parties of university and the dances in high school, there was no judgement.

I think I'm writing this post because we see a lot of negative media about young women. Articles depicting narcissism in the extreme, girls so shallow if they were a puddle they couldn't drown a newborn, women so self-absorbed they speak only in terms of makeup, hair and fashion. You know what? Maybe there are bunches of women like that out there. But I haven't encountered many. I see and meet and speak with women who have intense aspirations, who have dynamic personalities, who have insecurities stemming from culture and fear, who have intelligence based on education and experience.

...OR NOT.

We have dimensions. We have curved edges and sharp points. Parts of us shine bright while other parts are faded or torn. We are not perfect, but we are not boring. We are more than our Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. We exist in the real.


Wig Night was the kind of experience I wish for all women. Not the food and wine and synthetic hair (though that was great fun) but for that sense that we can move beyond the box of cultural expectations to enjoy and celebrate one another.

One could say that I was...wigging out. I hope to keep that wigged-out feeling the next time I find myself being sucked into negativity, self-doubt and girl hate. I'll walk around like I've got rainbow hair and a smile that won't quit.