Death of the Lady: why 'ladylike' is a sexist term

'If we bury the turkey in sprouts, no will notice the burnt bits.'

Bent over a saucepan of Brussels sprouts on BBC Breakfast this morning, Gordon Ramsay raised the problem that plagues many of us this year: “They will make you fart,” he warned. His interviewer, presenter Susanna Reid, immediately brought him up on this, quickly claiming in outraged tones that women don’t fart, sweat, burp or swear. I hate to break it to you Susanna, but if this true, you should really seek medical advice. For the rest of the unenlightened out there, women do, indeed, fart, sweat, burp, swear, urinate and defecate. Sometimes, I expect, all at once. Unfortunately, Susanna is not alone in her attempt to deny us these basic bodily functions; I have heard several friends protest in horror that they would never dream of performing any of these acts.

This is pathetic, ridiculous and maddening. By placing women on a fart-free pedestal, we are chaining ourselves to an archaic presentation of women as perfect porcelain dolls, whose only purpose in life is to be pretty decorations that are seen and not heard. Or smelled. The unenlightened should prepare themselves for a bold claim: to perpetuate this view is to present ourselves as inhuman. Yes, that’s right. Before you roll your eyes and return to polishing your club, let’s remind ourselves that this claim denies women the basic functions of human anatomy. For anyone who thinks that no one could be quite so stupid as to really believe this, I would refer them to a particularly ignorant ex-housemate, who had such trouble coming to terms with this notion that he chose to ignore clear evidence and to simply deny it. Mind you, he also believed that all women began menstruation on the first day of every month.

Clearly, gentlemen, it’s not just what we say that some of you struggle to comprehend; many of you have a lot to learn when it comes to female anatomy. Think about it, boys: if women are physically incapable of defecation (translation: pooing, shitting, taking a dump), why are we so frequently the subjects of adverts for diarrhoea medication?

Of course, all this reverts back to the notion of what is and is not considered ladylike. Traits in that first category include lipstick, needlework and child-bearing, while tattoos, swearing and an avid dislike of children would probably fall into the latter. To label the term ‘ladylike’ as restrictive is not to say that any of the activities which are given this description are innately wrong. It is more important to focus on what this term intends to prevent us from doing.

To draw on the example of the Olympics, sports such as boxing, judo and football are still held as pursuits more suited to men. To follow national television coverage would be to believe that no woman has ever so much as looked at a football, let alone competed in an international tournament. Boxing coach Hal Adonis (surely an ironic surname if ever there was one) commented that female boxers who haven’t been hit by their parents ‘don’t belong in boxing’, since women apparently need some form of motivation other than sporting prowess to get our pretty little heads angry enough to want to fight. On watching Gemma Gibbons win her Judo silver medal in London 2012, Andrew M Brown wrote that he 'couldn't help wondering about their soft limbs battered black and blue with bruises,' not something he apparently concerns himself with when it comes to competitions between men.

These examples demonstrate that many still distinguish between activities which are acceptable for men and women based on the archaic notion that women are inherently flimsy, fragile creatures. Like it or not, the word ‘ladylike’ is a sexist term because it allows people to restrict what women do purely because of the fact we have vaginas instead of penises. Of course, this type of gender-based classifications affects men too; how many have ever felt pressured to take up one sport over another ‘feminine’ one or to use terms which intentionally subjugate women in order to appear manly?

No one wants to be surrounded by a farting family post-Christmas dinner. But ladies, if you do let out a belter, don’t blame the man sat next to you: you’re only human, embrace it.

Secret Santa: festive fun or the nightmare before Christmas?

Secret Santa is a bit like eggnog; for some it joins mince pies and hearing Wizard everywhere as another mark that Christmas has begun, while for others it’s more like a threat than a promise of festive cheer. Unfortunately, unless you plan on becoming your intended recipient’s personal Grinch, it is no secret that once begun it cannot be denied regardless of your personal feelings and complete lack of preparation.

Why does Secret Santa promote groans of grim dismay? Frankly, Christmas is hectic. There are presents to buy, cards to write and travel plans to be made, in between which we are under even more pressure than usual to go out and have a good time. Christmas attractions and shopping centres soon take on the feeling of a stampede or a sheepdog trial, with everyone wedged together struggling to maintain the requisite good will to all mankind. With this in mind, it can be stressful enough trying to find presents for people you have known for twenty two years, let alone trying to pick between a rubber duck or a scented candle for someone you barely know. And, if you’re really unlucky, you might end up having to present a gift to the one person in your halls whose head you most like to shove up a turkey’s backside. Clearly not the tidings of comfort and joy that Christmas is intended to promote among us.

However, for all these potential problems, secret Santa is, in some ways, about the true spirit of Christmas. You might well spend hours searching for just the right earrings for your friend, only to receive a toilet brush and a voucher for a free hug from someone who panicked five minutes before they left. This ensures that your attention really is on the spirit of giving. Furthermore, since the low budget means that jet-powered hovering rollerblades are unfortunately out of the question, the focus really is the thought that goes into the gift. While you may end up with someone you can’t stand (in which case go for the lump of coal), you may also get the chance to show your friend how much you appreciate them. Watching their eyes light up a little over that pair of leopard print socks does make you feel a bit like Santa on Christmas Day.

Maybe Secret Santa is actually more like a cupboard: you get out what you put in. Of course, I’m not referring to the bouncy ball and foam finger that someone thought you might like, but the feeling of surprising someone else with a thoughtful gift.

Five essential components of a Christmas film

Whether it's a classic or a cheesy treat, everyone has a Christmas film of choice. The shops may have been playing carols since August, but now that those first few advent calendar windows have been ripped open it's truly time to indulge. Deck the halls, grab a mince pie, and see how many of these essentials your festive favourite features.

"And you're sure that a sleigh is covered by an automatic licence?"

Family fun. Like it or not, Christmas is a time for family. Whether arguing bitterly, screwing each other’s partners or discovering the true spirit of Christmas, families are often the ribbon that holds Christmas movies together.

Let it snow, man. Christmas is no time for rain, dear. However unreflective it may be of real life, we expect snow in Christmas movies. We want those shots of snow-covered hills bedecked with snowmen and sledding children, because snow is marvellous and beautiful when there is a TV screen between it and us. We can smugly turn up the fire and peek out from a duvet at the characters in the cold, safe in the knowledge that it won’t be us clearing the driveway tonight.

The knitwear before Christmas. Of course our intrepid characters need something to protect them from all that snow, and as the temperatures drop the gloves, scarves and lumpy woolly jumpers come out. Bonus points if any piece of attire has a reindeer on it. Triple points for bobbles.

Crazy stupid love. The brother of the woman whose house you’re borrowing? Naturally. The guy with stationery instead of hands who your mum has semi-adopted? Why not. Your Portuguese housekeeper with whom you have no way to communicate barring hand gestures and broken English? Meant to be. All that mistletoe seems to go to people’s heads, resulting in some highly implausible relationships. When the wrapping paper is in the bin, the Christmas pudding has been turned to crumbs and the hangover sets in, the tree has a better chance of lasting through the New Year than some of these movie couples.

Get your Santa Claus out. Surely the oldest character in movie history, Santa is sure to add a festive feel to any film. Well, any film in which he’s not played by Billy Bob Thornton.