Written by Avan Daruwalla
Graphic by Hengjia Liu
This piece was originally published in ‘Vestige’, Bossy’s 2023 print edition.
Are soft femininity, cottage core, and the female gaze just clever rebrands of oppressive gender roles? Or are those who seek exclusive gender neutrality undercover agents of misogyny?
I’ve noticed that the ever-shortening social media cycle has recently broached femininity a few too many times to ignore. In my corner of the internet, I see women twirling in summer dresses to joyful audio clips celebrating womanhood, and garden party gatherings with pink champagne, fairy wings, and heart-shaped cakes. In the same doom scroll, I see long stitches of cultural criticism and anger calling out such content for romanticising and reinforcing sexist stereotypes. Upon reflection, I find myself surprised by how much I disagree.
That’s not to say there isn’t clear value in questioning messaging that endorses or discourages specific characteristics or behaviour of women. I am an avid critic of choice feminism, I think the concept of the ‘female gaze’ is reductive, and I have witnessed firsthand the constant weaponisation of many feminine tropes against women.
So, what is the criticism of femininity-centric content about? At a fundamental level, it stems from concern that femininity is essentially submission, docility, materialism, subjugation, passivity, and vulnerability. As such, endorsing femininity undercuts the aims of feminist movements, demeans women, and restricts liberation. The criticism ultimately finds that gendered differences, in the form of femininity, cannot co-exist with meaningful equality. This strain of thought also finds subscription to femininity counterproductive to queer liberation.
Understanding whether our best interests better align with femininity being romanticised or villainised might require some definition of womanhood and femininity. I’ve seen a hundred different definitions of what it means to be a woman. J.K. Rowling and her band of insecure internet bigots think being a woman is as facile as your genitals at birth. But we know the primary definition of ‘adult human female’ is reductive, exclusionary, and inaccurate. Some, like Simone de Beauvoir, think of womanhood as oppression and that a woman by nature is an object to man’s subject. Some, like Beyonce and Rihanna, express womanhood as a different, equal, and beautiful kind of humanity. And some, like Judith Butler, think of womanhood as something more abstract; a social construct, a performance of gender, something we enact but do not choose. All these definitions reflect an understanding that women share a unique and distinct human experience. Thus, femininity is the lens through which we can perceive, conceptualise, and comprehend women. This is not to say that femininity is only for women; that would be antithetical to the point— just that femininity is borne of women’s gender expression.
As someone who double taps and identifies with content endorsing hair ribbons at garden parties, homemade bread and friends twirling in feminine summer dresses, I find it hard to swallow the idea that there is an inherent social harm to embodied femininity.
Firstly, the idea that women must act like men to be respected or that being feminine is inherently demeaning, is condescending and limiting. Softness need not be the exclusive domain of femininity, but even if it were – perpetuating the idea that soft and gentle people must change and harden to be equal is not radical; it’s defeatist and misogynistic. Critics of femininity consistently reduce the feminine to hyper-sexualisation and patriarchal subjugation. In doing so, they reinforce the idea that performing your gender in a feminine way is why women are oppressed. It feels akin to telling women not to be girly if they want to be taken seriously. If things are going to change, then we must stop reading femininity through the lens of internalised misogyny and patriarchal convention.
Secondly, femininity and femme identity have a long history of significance in the queer community building safe spaces and informing free self-expression. For trans women, feminine expression can be core to gender affirmation and euphoria. Femininity can be inclusive and embracing. It is only when toxic masculinity intrudes that the sharing of feminine joy is disrupted.
Finally, it is worth noting that this discourse is of the white, western feminist ilk. Black feminism, Islamic feminism and Asian matriarchies are among many movements and cultures that hold space, compassion, and value for femininity. Arguments against ‘pro-femininity’ feminism (for lack of a better term) are also nestled perfectly in the secret basket of backward stances held against women of colour by undercover/unconscious imperialist white feminists. Not to mention that the emphasis on eradicating gendered markers to achieve equality completely neglects every other form of difference and intersectionality.
Often proposed as the alternative to femininity is gender neutrality (notably different to gender fluidity or gender inclusivity). To me, gender neutrality offers a prime example of androcentrism in action. For example, gender- neutral names. There is a major lack of traditionally feminine names being adopted for gender-neutral purposes. Some of the most popular gender-neutral baby names (e.g. Charlie, Alex, Riley) are initially boys’ names and have now been deemed suitable for girls and, therefore, gender-neutral.
Meanwhile, names like Ashley and Leslie, which were initially used for boys, lost all popularity as boy names once they became popular as girl names and seen as feminine. The same story can be told of gender-neutral clothing, which has adapted almost exclusively masculine clothing to be sold as genderless. Likewise, high heels, originally developed and designed for men centuries ago, have since been adapted for feminine fashion and eviscerated from mainstream menswear. The othering of femininity knows no bounds.
So, if gender-neutral names are just men’s names given to women, and gender- neutral clothes are men’s clothes worn by women, what is gender neutrality if not repackaged masculinity? In episode 11 of the Guilty Feminist podcast, guest comedian Hannah Gadsby discusses the “trap of hypermasculinity” wherein masc lesbians sometimes behave inappropriately around other women due to mimicking the toxic behaviours of cisgender straight men. The binary is insidious to the point that detaching from femininity often means subscribing to conventions of masculinity. Her comments are a stark reminder of the need to be critical about why gender neutrality is masculinised, and femininity is villainised.
You might be reading this and wondering — is this even a genuine concern? Isn’t femininity alive and well? And yes, you’re right to an extent — the global beauty industry is worth $860 billion, women characters across media are still often portrayed as being more sensitive and empathetic, and there are hundreds of podcasts about how to embrace one’s femininity and sexuality. However, these capitalist incarnations of femininity (which vastly profit men and prey on women’s insecurities) are still far from reflective of how femininity manifests in our real lives and relationships. So perhaps there’s no existential threat to femininity but navigating moral judgements of your gender expression can still be very stressful, especially when your politics or feminism are called into question.
I don’t believe that the status quo is the way to go – not by the longest shot – but I do think that opposing femininity is misogynistic. Femininity in a masculine world is often reduced to consumption and weakness. While pink-washing the world cannot solve gender inequality, reimagining and celebrating femininity feels imperative to fostering inclusivity and community care.
What about the genuine and beautiful experiences of femininity we share with other women? The love and care we have for our friends; the protectiveness of vulnerable people; the urge to nurture, understand and empathise; the strength of passion and conviction; and the sacred space we hold for collectivism?
Why should women be less feminine, less loving, or less people-focused? Why should feminine people be more aggressive and less emotional? Why should we strive for gender neutrality when the world sees masculinity as the base and neutral way of being? To me — femininity objectively seems a better way of life on both the individual and community levels. It doesn’t have to look like twirling in a dress but should be celebrated for its joyfulness. It shouldn’t be something to hide from or prevent; it should be something we share, embrace, and honour.
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