I was expecting to bound out of Screen 1 after seeing the new Barbie movie with cute giggles, ideas for new “Ken Memes” & MAJOR jealousy for Margot Robbie’s entire wardrobe throughout the film (I mean…all 3 of these did happen obvs, have you seen that pink Chanel Heart Flap Bag she has, utterly sensational & I’m TOTALLY obsessed) but I also came out wiping away the little mascara tears that had trickled their way down my face, leaving a very un-Barbie like black streak on my cheek, after silently SOBBING at multiple parts of the movie (and not just from laughing too much at Ryan Gosling’s interpretation of Ken, I smell that Golden Globe already baby)!
Oh, and it also made me want to call my mum immediately to apologise for literally everything. Love you Mumma.
I think first of all I was shocked by the complexity of the film. It was one of the most beautifully constructed depictions of how little girls grow up and the women we then become.
For those who have their doubts on this movie, I hear ya loud and clear but it really is just a genius commentary on the objectification of women, how the patriarchy operates (in the words of Ken, grrrrrrr) and how it negatively impacts men, their mental health…and their wardrobe choices. It speaks on the challenges of motherhood, being exposed to the dangers of a fantasy world, sexism but most importantly, it succinctly summed up the feeling of being held up against the most impossible standards as a woman. All whilst filled with gags, epic dance routines and a John Cena cameo. I told you it was complex.
I have to admit, watching the Barbie movie (even though I went with a Ken, a very sweet and nice Ken actually, so maybe he’s more of an ‘Alan’ at heart, who just has some big KENergy we did see Oppenheimer first though, as a sweetener) it was the most heart-warming sights to see. So many women, and little women came together, in pink obviously, to share these laughs, the tears and the spectacle that is Barbieland. Even as I walked through a rainy and grey Leicester Square to go and meet my Ken, there was the nod/smile/little wink to other women dressed in that undeniable Mattel colour scheme that seemed to add a sense of sunshine to the undeniably bleak weather of the day.
Also shout-out to KENmil for taking his role very seriously also and wore a blue and white striped tee and chinos to fulfil my request to match my pink gingham co-ord…ladies, keep those standards high.
It truly felt like a once in a lifetime experience that will be a treasured memory. Like a moment captured in time of unapologetic girlhood to womanhood.
But enough of that mushy stuff, because I’m mad. I’m really mad. But also, I’m really, really tired of it all. And I’m tired of staying quiet.
Blame Barbie for firing up enough feminism in me to now punch a hole through a wall (male fragility style of course).
Unlike “Barbieland” where everything is run by women (and it really is just the coolest land of all), I’m in a profession that is dominated by men. I’m sorry ladies to be the barer of the truth….but we are. Right from being that little girl putting on her first pair of dancing shoes we are told that we are the disposable ones, sometimes subliminally but my mother has also been told that to her face as well when chatting with a father of one of my dance partners- he was a real nice guy * note asshole*
There are soooooo many more girls dancing and looking for that perfect boy partner (he’s about as realistic as “Ken’s Mojo Dojo Casa House by the way) that, I guess naturally, we are the ones on the side-line, the lower rung crew. We’re waiting to get picked because the boys HAVE the pick from hundreds of us. And that’s before we get put up against the thousands of foreign girls as well because, and I quote,
“I’d much rather dance with European girls because they have a much higher tolerance than English girls when I’m pushing them beyond their limits in practice and they are in pain…they don’t cry as much”.
Now, I can’t show you the face I pulled when I heard this comment come out of this ballroom dancers mouth, but if “fuck off” had a face, in that moment I’d have become the new poster girl for it.
Now, I understand that this world is tough, extremely competitive and not for the faint hearted but for this man to be proud of that statement stunned me. If he felt comfortable telling me, a woman (no hiding these double D’s are there) this the first time we met it makes me wonder what else he did/does to his partners…and look, don’t come for me with your “I bET woMEn ABusE thEIr dANcE paRTnErs tOo” argument because as that may be true we ALL have heard the stories (and let’s be honest here, we’ve witnessed it too on practice’s and at comps…cancel me go on, see if I care) about violent, abusive, sexist men...just we don’t really do anything about it do we? Just carry on as normal right…anyway I digress.
He’s meant to be on the same team as his partner but instead is probably getting a hard on from seeing how far he can push her before she starts to show some form of emotion.
Did his arrogance, and let’s be honest, slightly sadistic tendencies, just come on one day or did having that “power” over women from a young age (this particular guy competed as a child) turn him into this monster? Like a Special Edition Ballroom Dancing Ken, tail suit and number card included- shoes and morals sold separately.
Maybe it’s a parallel to the scene in the movie where Ken took EVERYTHING that Barbie had worked for without an ounce of remorse, yet claimed he loved her? He watched her suffer and question her worth and did nothing. And in the end Barbie was still left with the responsibility of encouraging him and being his emotional support- little bit like a female dancer I know who has to “butter” her partner up, turn up the touchy feely-ness, lovey dovey bullshit near a big competition to make him feel good about himself even though she has no sexual attraction to this guy in the first place…(her words, not mine) yikes.
I’m starting to see why I never made it in this world because this Barbie ain’t massaging a male ego to hopefully win a trophy. Genuinely a little bit of vomit comes up every time I think about this…
It would explain though as to why so many men in this business do treat women as disposable objects who they think they can control just because they’ve won a title or two in their lifetime.
One of the ickiest things about this industry are the males who use their status, success (past or present) & position of power to promise things to women. The Ballroom and Latin world has its very own version of the MGM 1950’s Casting Couch (I went with this style casting couch because come on, as much as dance is a VERY flawed world, it is opulent one darling).
Look, I’m under no illusion that I’m the only woman to have experienced this during my time but I have only recently wised up to it and can spot these “casting calls” coming from a mile off now- I iz a professional innit.
But before I was extremely stupid…actually, maybe I should be a little gentler on my younger self and let’s say naïve…stupive. Let’s go for that.
First example, I was messaged in 2020 by a highly regarded teacher who asked if I currently had a partner after seeing a video of me dancing. I replied no. He said he would help. I said that would be amazing. Back and forth, back and forth the usual, how tall, how old, willing to relocate, can I see your boobs? I thought it was a joke. It was not.
He was willing to help me find a partner, but only if I gave him “special gifts” in return. Direct quote from him on the “special gifts” comment because I definitely wouldn’t call a tit pic a special gift…a pink Chanel Heart Flap Bag would be a special gift (take note Ken’s, my birthday is in January).
I have another successful, yet slimy, professional who slides into my DM’s, lubed up by his hair gel one can only presume, every January, May and October asking me if I want to stay with him in, and again I quote, a 6* hotel for dinner, drinks and fun (if the fun is going to Chanel and buying the pink Chanel Heart Flap Bag then I’m in Hun, I told you I was obsessed with it) I stopped responding to him after the first time he asked me to join him for a night of, what would only be disappointment on my behalf, back in January 2022…his last message to me was 26th May…2023…I mean you can’t fault his commitment can you?! And at least this one is divorced but the single guys are just as bad.
Chase you for weeks on end with messages and Instagram likes, promise you the world, get what they want, or when they realise they won’t be getting what they want they then just disappear of the face of the earth. Cool mate, didn’t invest any feelings, time, effort into you did I? Oh, and I haven’t even got to the married ones yet who clearly didn’t quite understand or even can recall the whole “til death do us part” vow segment of their big days. And believe me when I say, THERE IS A LOT OF MARRIED ONES.
Funny how they can remember to always say “don’t tell anyone about this”, “please keep this a secret”, “I’m so unhappy in my marriage, it’s all for show and doesn’t mean anything”, “my girlfriend is in another country so it doesn’t count” (again another golden nugget from a guy I went on a date with, without knowing he had a girlfriend- aren’t men just the greatest).
PSA to these men by the way:
I keep EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE. HUNS.
They get screenshotted and put into a little folder in my phone entitled “BULLSHIT” after they’ve binned me off, just in case a joker wanna start lying about something they said on 1stApril. My Mumma didn’t raise no fool. Trust issues? You lot only have yourselves to blame.
I also just want to add, never have I been the first one to make contact with ANY of them, I’m useless at messaging people I actually like let alone a species who I’m growing even more tired of daily.
They must learn those sayings and quotes in term two at “Fuckboy School” because they all operate the same way, which is why now my rose-tinted glasses have been yeeted off into another dimension and the cynic, realist and the abhorrently low tolerance to bullshit in me has fully formed. My goodness I’m such a hoot these days.
PLEASE don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate men. Not in the slightest. They’re hot. They’re fun. They’re sometimes nice. And nor do I put ALL men into this ‘Crapbag Camp’, but there is such a high number of male dancers who do unfortunately unpack their sleeping bags and pop their tents up in it. In a world full of Ken’s, it’s really hard to find the Alan’s.
I was caught off guard by one recently though as it was new type of “Ballroom Sleazebag” I hadn’t experienced before. This one still competes first of all (it’s like a really shit version of ‘Guess Who’ for you guys as I have no cards to flip down, sorry Huns!) so that was a new one. I apparently had turned this guy down for a try-out about 11 years ago (move on babe) but he had “kept his eye on me” and had been “following” what I had been doing all this time.
Looking back now it does sound like the start of a Crimewatch special I know but at the time “aweeeeee, how sweet is that, that’s so romantic”. He explained how unhappy he was with his current situation, both professionally and personally, and how much he liked me because I was so different and made him feel whole (that wasn’t in the first message, it wasn’t that creepy).
This went on for weeks and weeks, and if you’ve read my previous blog entry you can find out all the deets (I got hit by a bus…well nearly). But then one day, I got a message saying he was cutting it off. Now at the time, I was heartbroken, truly. Because I genuinely liked this guy, we did that “click” thing and I had NEVER felt this way about a man before. The things he said to my face, the phone calls, facetimes, the plans for a different kind of future…I thought I could take him seriously about it. But now the cynic in me has the question, knowing how these Ken’s, whoops, I mean men, work.
“Was this a sick joke as some kind of payback for not having the try-out with him all those years ago”?
I know we can torture ourselves with what if’s and hypotheticals but let’s actually look at this…it doesn’t really seem impossible or implausible now does it?
His ego dented slightly? Sees a picture where he clearly isn’t clicking like for my personality, goes to message me, sees the unanswered trial request and thinks “I’ll show that bitch, I’ll get her hopes up about dancing with her, say I won’t hurt her and appear super genuine the whole time but then I’ll do it with a remix and really mess her up”. Dramatic I know. And so, far-fetched….but not entirely unbelievable. Maybe I watch too many movies. Or is it just that I’m wising up to how men can be bitches too.
And speaking of bitchy men (I promise I’m nearly done…keep going guys, you can make it to the end, I finish with a really important sentence!), what the hell is up with grown ass men in this industry going around discussing women who they don’t actually know?! (The one who’s had my name in his mouth has maybe SEEN me about 3 times in my entire life and I don’t even think I’ve had a conversation with him that’s gone further than “Hi, how are you”)? and their personal lives to other people like it’s funny to shame women for what they choose to do, or don’t do in it! I mean he obviously thought I’d never find out but, whoops, I did…people talk Mister & I’d also love to have a little chat with you sometime as well. Let’s hope he can find some time in his busy schedule for this Barbie…
But he had to find out from someone. And that’s where women step in. Yeah, you aren’t getting off lightly on my rant dollface.
A quote that really struck me in the Barbie movie was,
“Men hate women and women hate women, it’s the only thing we can agree on”.
And ain’t that the truth. #PreachItGreta
This is how I see it going down- woman becomes some kind of truffle pig for gossip, collects said gossip from other woman after gaining trust and friendship (and slightly bedazzles it with some embellishments and also forgets to add a lack of context to it I might add, from my experience anyway) and sends back the tattle to important male to gain trust, favouritism and a couple of laughs around a kitchen table.
It has got me thinking though, is this woman a victim of the patriarchy within our dancing world and is just trying to survive and thrive in any way she thinks she can or…is just a straight up ‘Mean Girl’ (different movie I know but they wore Pink on Wednesday’s so the comparison can stay).
The lack of sisterhood within this industry is absolutely wild to be honest and definitely would make ALL the Barbie’s in Barbieland v.sad.
I was tagged in an Instagram story by an account the other day that gave a shout out to the people who had been nice and supportive to her young daughter…beautiful and very sweet. But how comes this, in today’s world, is something that isn’t just automatically happening?
Yes, we are in an environment which is competitive, it has to be, we have to aim to be the very best to succeed…but on the dancefloor only. We don’t need to vocally shame, bitch, be-little, judge women and their choices. We should be supporting each other in this crazy realm, not tearing each other down (we’ve already established that men can do that for us pretty decently already)!
Whenever I see a female owned dance school I can’t help but root for them, and not out of being a ‘kiss ass’ or wanting to be ‘seen’ and commended for it (let me tell you, I really have gone beyond caring what people think of me these days anyway!) but because it’s a natural reaction to seeing a woman win. Shining a positive light on someone else doesn’t dull your sparkle so grab your bloody spotlight and use it!
I’m not claiming to have never said a bad word about any women, because I have, and I’ve been a proper bitch in the past…but for the last few years I’ve made sure that ANYTHING I say, in the context of a conversation, I always make sure I’m happy to repeat to ANYONE’s face. Pass me that megaphone.
I’m not saying we can never say anything bad ever again but ask yourself is what you’re saying, and who you’re saying it to, is really necessary. Have you been personally affected by someone’s action’s and you want to voice how much of an asshole someone has been to you, totally cool, let it out girl. But if not, are you just saying shit to try to keep yourself relevant, seen, remembered, useful, to keep yourself in the “cult” or an attempt to join the illustrious club of people who dance really lovely natural turns in the past 40 years.
I know this is probably a little risky for me to be so vocal about this kind of topic (I could have gone further but Mum did remind me that I do want to continue working and not have a mafia rock up to my door) but in conclusion…
Barbie hammered home one important message for me and it was that women do not have to stay inside the box we think we belong in. We have a voice, that we fought long and hard for, so we need to use it. By talking and highlighting issues like this it might just make these men start to realise that they aren’t living in their very own “KENDOM” and that they can’t keep getting away with behaving the way they do towards the Barbie’s in the real world…
Oh, and I really, REALLY want the pink Chanel Heart Flap Bag.
RiRi xo
