When Starbucks is a Hate Crime Scene
Sweat-shaming is when someone points out your sweatiness as a way to signal disapproval. Like its counterparts, slut-shaming and fat-shaming, sweat-shaming is aimed mainly at women, who are actually not supposed to sweat at all.
Well, it’s been a while since we’ve had a classic Guardian sentence, let alone a reminder of just how many brickbats and indignities our brave feminists must endure. The sentences above are courtesy of Ms Amy Roe, who, as you’ll see, has been terribly violated (and is therefore heroic and righteous in her ire).
Let the full horror of the episode wash over you:
I was ordering coffee when I noticed a well-dressed woman staring at me. “You look like you just did a class,” she said, giving me the once-over. I had no idea what she meant so I said nothing. “Or swimming?” she offered, with a tight smile.
Well-dressed. Tight smile. The bitch.
I’d just run 12 miles and the hair sticking out from under my hat was wet. It took me a moment to formulate an answer. “Um, running,” I mumbled finally… Rather than challenge sweat-shaming, I played right into it, conceding that I “sweat a lot.”
Tight-smiling woman is obviously a hired goon of The Patriarchy. Her mission, to stamp on the self-esteem of hitherto fearless Guardian columnists.
And so,
I took the paper cup of drip coffee and hustled past the condiment bar. Screw the half-and-half; I’d drink it black. Once safely inside my car, I threw off my damp running cap and flipped up the hood of my sweatshirt in embarrassment.
Harrowing stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree. Ms Roe is what we must henceforth refer to as a sweat-shame survivor.
Happily, however - and despite the misogynist violence of having one’s copious perspiration acknowledged by someone standing next to you, possibly closer than they might wish – Ms Roe’s drama ends on a note of empowerment and feminist defiance:
I’ve got another long run this weekend and afterward, I’m going to sit down with my coffee, all sweaty and transgressive. The stigmas surrounding women’s bodies are powerful, but they’re no match for how powerful I feel after running.
Hear her roar. And fetch towels.
HCSI: Hate Crime Scene Investigation
Heh.
the moderators have highlighted one comment as the “Guardian pick,” . . . “This kind of insidious behaviour [i.e., sweat-shaming] is why the world has less women interested in sports and fitness.”
Do the same moderators explain what exactly are “less women”?
I did not click through to the “article”. Long ago, I was a reader of the Manchester Guardian, and try not to give “The Guardian” the time of day.
Meanwhile, in the Washington Post:
Maybe someone should take Ms Roe to one side and have a quiet word.
“Maybe I’m hypersensitive,” Roe said.
Snork!
“but that’s the chance you take”
Amy Roe’s Risk/Reward Analysis of whether to submit article for publication
Risk: Gets published and I look like a complete ass to the overwhelming majority of people, most of whom I don’t know
Reward: Article is published and despite ridicule from anonymous internet commenters, I receive validation and elevated status from my crazy victim-type PC friends and acquaintances.
Not even a close call.
validation and elevated status from my crazy victim-type PC friends and acquaintances.
Again, social signalling, cheap grace.
Huh, in P&P, the wonderful Elizabeth Bennet works up a sweat on her way to see her ill sister, Jane, and Mr. Darcy admires her for it. Even Jane Austen would have thought this Guardianista twit was a twit.
Even Jane Austen would have thought this Guardianista twit was a twit.
In a 21st century version of P&P, she would likely be Elizabeth’s foolish younger sister and would bring shame on her family by eloping with a performance artist
“Like its counterparts, slut-shaming and fat-shaming, sweat-shaming is aimed mainly at women, who are actually not supposed to sweat at all.”
I long for the day when some fat sweaty slut is standing in the queue in Starbucks. HAT-TRICK!!!
Be complimentary, Rob: “Gee, you sure don’t sweat much for a fat slut.”