I want to be a hoe. I want to go out and have fun with my friends. Dance on a few guys. Kiss whomever, whenever, wherever. Get take out for date night. Have squad gatherings in a modern art museum. Dye my hair a funky color. Get a few piercings. Reinvent my image. Let my ass get fatter and my skin clearer. Buy cute well fitting bras and panties. Invest in nice sheets. Build sand castles. Go on a ghost tour. Wave at tourist. Collect men’s athletic wear from my lovers. Read one book a week. Sing in the shower. And most importantly love myself.
full offense but the only way i want to see bucky in the black panther movie is if instead of a cryo chamber hes legit in a block of ice like austin powers style, face frozen on the face he makes when he’s running and they just glance over him once with the camera and don’t even mention why hes like that now
As beautiful and iconic as the proposal was, the thing that stood out to me as it was unfolding, the thing that stayed with me the most when it was over, was the imagery and what it means outside of the show’s narrative. It was important. I don’t think I can emphasize enough how important it was. Historically, Hollywood has not been kind to black women. When we’re fortunate enough to appear on screen at all, it’s usually in singular, familiar (read: comfortable) ways: strong, single, silent, sassy, unrealistically perfect, best friend to everyone while selflessly shouldering all of our burdens alone. It’s frustrating. It’s demoralizing. It’s tiresome. And it’s utter bullshit.
We don’t get love songs sung to us. We don’t get not one, but two romantic proposals in one season let alone at all. We don’t get to be the love of someone’s life. We rarely get to be vulnerable and unsure and carefree and overwhelmed and ecstatic and cry tears of joy within the narrative of a story in this way. It rarely happens. It’s not about “just being the love interest” as is so frequently the charge when a black woman is the love interest (which is still the exception and not the rule). And it’s certainly not about being validated by a white man or the white gaze. It’s about black women having been historically presented as not needing love, not being worthy of love, not being worthy of being cherished, not being worthy of being protected at the same time that we can do all those things for ourselves.
Little black girls needed to see this. Black women needed to see this. A society that constantly reiterates to the world every single day that black women aren’t beautiful, aren’t feminine, aren’t worthy and are “less than” needed to see this.
Love, hate or feel nothing at all toward Westallen and Iris West, this was a big deal. It may not seem like it to some, but it was. Representation matters. But optics matter just as much.
***And to my fellow Richonners, what I said above also applies to the King and Queen of the apocalypse. Rick may not have said those four little words, but what he did say was basically a proposal. What happened between them in that abandoned school (and the rest of the episode) mattered, and it was just as important.
Mileena: Can I just say that, by Shao Kahn’s decree, I am the rightful ruler of Outworld, and that some of us have been made victims?! Kotal Kahn: Very well … let us put it to vote. (Turns to everyone) How many of you have ever felt personally victimised by Mileena? *Everyone raises their hands, with Erron Black’s wounded hand raised the highest*
can everyone stop acting like “strong female characters who are badass and can still be feminine!!!!” is somehow revolutionary…. i wanna see strong tomboy female characters, strong butch female characters, female characters saving the day with hairy armpits and dirty sneakers and ugly cargo shorts. of course feminine strong female characters are great bc theyre still strong female characters, but praising their femininity in particular is so odd when female characters have only ever been feminine, theyre expected to be and not accepted otherwise