A woman's opinion: On what women want

By: Punk Chopsticks on 10:56 AM

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What the fuck do Women Want 

has been one of the oldest questions to tumble through time, giving birth (pun unintended) to a movie, talk shows, and an entire category of self-help books.

Of course the question had never really occurred to me before - for obvious reasons - till now.



When I thought about blogging again, I knew three things

1. That this time I wouldn't feel pressured to sell out (Take that Nuffnang HAH)
2. That I wouldn't feel shallow/materialistic if I wanted to write about beauty (Because color, make up, glitter, fashion is The Shit), and
3. That it would be written in the name of women. (Not to be confused with for women)

So I spent the night going through multiple Blogger templates for something appropriate both aesthetically and functionally.

Without really noticing it myself, I had been picking and choosing templates, going "oh that one doesn't look girly enough" "That one's too tech-y" And the sad thing was, some of the choices I passed off on were designs that I liked. 

The joke was - even though I, a self alleged and biologically proven woman, liked them, I was still sifting through the heap chasing after the idea of what women would want.

Because somehow I'm the chosen one. I'm special. All other women are just silly, pink and frills loving people.

The concept of the idea of what women want.

If you think about it, we're all chasing after the idea of what women want. This is a lot easier than finding out what women individually and actually want because that would mean viewing them as individuals and human beings with separate wants and desires.

Everyone thinks they know what women want, and the worst thing is, I feel like they're all telling me what I should want.

This picture

The media.

My boyfriend.

My parents.

My friends.

Even other women.

But if what I originally thought women wanted wasn't what I wanted, then how do I know other and all women even want it at all?

More importantly: does the concept of What Women Want even exist?

How should I know?

I'm just a night blogger trying not to starve on a diet subsisting mainly of soda crackers and Coke.

But I do know this: If I were sitting next to me an hour ago, watching myself, as a stranger, sift through all those layouts and backgrounds looking for something with more pink in it (and maybe a blue ribbon navbar) I'd have thrown a tantrum.

I'd have gotten up and screamed. I'd have shouted.

WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE. DON'T TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD LIKE. DON'T TELL ME HOW I SHOULD FEEL. DON'T TREAT ME LIKE JUST ANOTHER FACELESS BARBIE MAKEUP LOVING SHAPE IN A CROWD.

You can tell I was a very difficult child.