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Who’s Whipped?

I was just sitting in a massage chair with my toes soaking in the deliciously-warm whirlpool below me and flipping through a People magazine when I was suddenly slapped in the face. Ok, not literally, but that’s definitely what it felt like. I stared at the ad, blinking a few times just to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. An attractive guy was holding an armful of white towels while talking on his cell phone in the foreground; in the background, a female was enjoying a leisurely soak in a bubble bath. Okayyy, I thought. So….? Then I read: “Reason to get him whipped #8.” Pinnacle Whipped Vodka.

Seriously?? So… what are they trying to say here? Let’s say your boyfriend does the laundry (and mine does – well, actually, we both do it). Does that automatically make him “whipped”? Or does it only make him “whipped” if he does the laundry *while* you’re doing something enjoyable, such as taking a bath? In which case… are you supposed to immediately scamper into the kitchen to find some kind of household chore to do as soon as he extracts the first few items from the hamper? Well, fuck it. I guess I’m just one of those stereotypical, humorless feminazis who doesn’t understand why the portrayal of a helpful boyfriend would include the insinuation of utter female domination.

Is this supposed to let men know that whenever they dare step out of their role as the stereotypical lazy-slob bachelor, they might as well check their testicles at the door?

And what does this say about women? What do you call a woman who does household chores? Anyone got a punchline for that one??

Is it pathetic to do household chores period? Are women everywhere being tricked into thinking they’re doing something to help out when, in reality, they’re being laughed at and seen as broken, manipulated fools? If so, what’s the “cute” name for a female idiot like that? Is it “housewife”? No, it can’t be that – we’ve heard over and over again that to be a housewife is a choice that we’d better respect because it’s just as dignified as having a career outside the home.

So… what’s so hilarious about a guy doing laundry while talking on his cell phone?

I checked out the Pinnacle Whipped website and… omg I have to try some of these. There’s actually a Cotton Candy flavor (!!!) as well as a plethora of other tastebud-tempting flavors such as: Cake (you can’t be serious!!), Butterscotch, Gummy (as in, gummy fish!), Chocolate Whipped, Espresso, Root Beer (sheesh!), and, of course, plain old “Whipped”, featuring a huge dollop of whipped cream on the front. These amazing flavors alone are enough to have their clearly-female demographic racing to the liquor store even before they give their partner’s testicles a final, parting cigarette burn.

There are so many ways this product could have been marketed seductively toward women without harming men in the process. It’s hard enough for a man to find self-respect and dignity in a world of must-watch football, must-drink beer, must-lift weights, must-have muscles, must-drive sportscars and everything else that is counterproductive to a man’s self-esteem and individuality. The gender binary oppresses both genders and forces each into little boxes from which they dare not stray.

I call bullshit and remind these marketing assholes that REAL MEN can do laundry, REAL MEN can cook, and REAL MEN can iron clothing. For fuck’s sake, leave the guy alone.

Other “Whipped” ads from Pinnacle include:

  

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Couldn’t Have Said It Better Myself

I speak from personal experiences when I say that it is of crucial importance for a woman to ensure her own economic independence. It’s imperative to her own well-being and also that of her child. I would never suggest that money is more important than family because for me it isn’t. I have no desire to hold a high-powered job making six or seven figures. I want only to make a decent living for myself and for my family.

Three years ago, I came to the harsh realization that for my own sake and that of my daughter, I had to leave my marriage. It was an agonizing decision made all the more so by the fact that I was a stay-at-home mom at the time. With no way of providing for myself or my child, I was terrified at the idea of leaving and yet I knew I had to for the good of everyone involved. The end result is that I have struggled for the past three years to provide for myself and my child. I could not possibly love my daughter more and had I been given the choice, I would have continued working so as not to have had to put her through this period of economic instability. Fortunately, she is very young and will likely not remember the vast majority of it but I will never forget the pain of knowing that I couldn’t provide for my child the things I so desperately wanted to provide for her. I certainly gave her all the love and attention possible but neither of those things will put food in a child’s belly or clothes on that child’s back. There were days when I cried over being unable to spend a few dollars on an ice cream or a ride on the merry go round. I would never wish that experience on anyone, male or female.

Having been a stay-at-home mom, I know how difficult the job is and how little recognition women in that position often receive. In no way am I looking down on women who choose to stay home with their children. I’m simply cautioning them to think carefully about their choices as the unforeseen can strike any of us at any time and with no warning. I certainly never expected to get a divorce from a man to whom I’d been married for five years before getting pregnant and to whom I was utterly devoted, a man I had loved so passionately for the nearly seven years of our marriage. I certainly never imagined I’d feel the powerlessness that my economic dependency brought about, nor did I imagine I’d submit to the misery I did because of this dependency. Even at this considerably more stable point in my life, I shudder to think of those dark days and of the physical and psychological toll they took on me. This book is absolutely correct in stating that a man is not a financial plan and I am living proof of this.

Bookphile, on a book review of “The Feminine Mistake” by Leslie Bennetts