top of page

🎀 Take Me Seriously, I Dare You 🎀

I take my notes in pink. A stuffed hello kitty keeps me company in class. You should still think i’m intelligent.


By S.J. Waring


Let me tell you a story that may sound familiar: When I was younger, I was always the smart girl. Everyone wanted me to explain their homework to them. I bragged about the number of my friends that were male and tried to outrun everyone on the track. And when my best friend told me she hated the color pink, I said that I did too. But at home, I drew pictures of girls in pretty dresses and dreamed about being able to put my hair in braids.


Now, I surround myself almost entirely with pink. I repaint my nails every two weeks. I listen to bubblegum pop music and spend hours putting together the perfect outfit. I love the person that I’ve become. But every time I enter a space where I’m supposed to be intelligent, I immediately feel insecure, because I know the way that I express myself can make me seem, to be blunt, a little bit dumb. The truth is that when I chose to reject femininity as a child, I did so in hopes that I would be valued, in hopes that people would take me seriously. And a lot of times, it definitely seems like I’m seen as less “serious” than I feel.


If your relationship to femininity has a story similar to mine, you might be interested in a form of feminism called girlie feminism, a term most thoroughly written about by Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards in the early 2000s. Baumgardner and Richards refer to “girlies” as “adult women… whose feminist principles are based on a reclaiming of girl culture”(1). Girlie feminism acts as a response to other, earlier forms of feminism, those which told women they had to break away from femininity and embrace and act in masculine roles; because “boy things” were associated with strength and power, these other feminisms implied that girls must always adopt “boy things” in order to become strong and empowered. Basically, throughout their childhood, modern young women are given a “mixed message: girls might have the potential to be powerful, but girl things assuredly do not”(1). Girlies and girlie feminism essentially ask what about me? What if I enjoy looking and acting in feminine ways? Can I still be strong? Can I still be powerful?


Lip gloss, lava lamps, nail polish, stickers, hearts, Sanrio, princesses, and of course the color pink -- these are all parts of the girlie lifestyle, but they are not the foundation of it. Instead, Baumgardner and Richards write that “girlie says we’re not broken”(1). Claiming oneself as a girlie feminist means claiming that it is possible to express femininity and possess “girlish” traits while still being both powerful and empowered.


In academia, especially, women who express themselves in feminine ways often find themselves feeling as if they’re not “serious” enough. In a 2017 article, Ngaire Donaghue describes how “despite the mass entry of women into academia over the past 40 years, a masculine hegemony continues to set the terms on which women can be accepted into and succeed within academia, and ‘feminine’ interests and concerns are treated with suspicion and/or contempt”(3). Many women and girls feel a confusing sense of shame in school settings, denying themselves the option of feeling professional because of their new nails or their “girly” style of speech, the kind that men like to make fun of. Like, literally, I really just don’t understand why you won’t listen to me?


There are plenty of figures in pop culture that channel this innate conflict in “girlie” girls; one of the most obvious examples would be Elle Woods, who Carol Dole writes about in her article “The Return of Pink: Legally Blonde, Third Wave Feminism, and Having It All.” Dole discusses the influence of Elle’s expression on the film, then goes on to claim that Legally Blonde and other “chick flicks” promote the power of femininity, but also warn of its dangers. “Can women really expect to excel,” she asks, “if they jettison ‘masculine’ behaviors in favor of the more frankly feminine appearance and goals sanctioned by girlie feminism?”(2). Personally, I think she is asking exactly the wrong question. Rather, we should be thinking about this one: if “success” means abandoning one’s style of personal expression in order to fit male standards of professionalism, is it worth anything at all?


For decades women have been arguing for a “seat at the table”; and we deserve it! But when we get to the table, it’s worth taking a look at what we have brought with us. Did we remain uncompromising in our own selfhood, pushing others to value us for the qualities we already possessed? Or did we shun all things “unserious” to conform to the standards of a needlessly masculine and soul-crushing hierarchy?


Listen, I know that some of us simply adore navy pantsuits, and some of us don’t have “like” as a permanent resident on the back of our tongues. And that’s fine; plenty of women find masculinity empowering and fun, and plenty of women prefer to express themselves in more muted, curated ways. Performing and expressing girlhood isn’t exactly a social upheaval, either. Baumgardner and Richards know this: “embracing the pink things of stereotypical girlhood isn’t a radical gesture meant to overturn the way society is structured,” but the important thing is that “it can be a confident gesture”(1).


The point of this article is not that every woman should re-adopt femininity and conform to a “girlie” image. Instead, the point is that the way a woman chooses to express herself should not, in any case, cancel out her intelligence, talent, or capability; that valuing women conditionally is not the same thing as actually valuing women; and that instead of rejecting femininity because it isn’t “serious”, we should be both wondering why that is and seeking to change that idea.


Basically, don’t put away the pink pen, don’t stop doodling hearts on your papers, and don’t feel the need to apologize for the stuffed animals in your Zoom background. Instead, challenge everyone you meet to listen to what you have to say, even if it may seem just a little bit girlie.


🎀 References 🎀


Baumgardner, Jennifer, and Amy Richards. “Feminism and Femininity: Or How We Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Thong.” All about the Girl: Culture, Power, and Identity, by Anita Harris and Michelle Fine, Routledge, 2004, pp. 59–67.


Dole, Carol M. “The Return of Pink: Legally Blonde, Third Wave Feminism, and Having It All.” Chick Flicks: Contemporary Women at the Movies, by Suzanne Ferriss and Mallory Young, Routledge, 2008, pp. 58–76.


Donaghue N. (2017) Seriously Stylish: Academic Femininities and the Politics of Feminism and Fashion in Academia. In: Elias A., Gill R., Scharff C. (eds) Aesthetic Labour. Dynamics of Virtual Work. Palgrave Macmillan, London. https://doi-org.libproxy.smith.edu/10.1057/978-1-137-47765-1_13




bottom of page