Peggy Olson

Sexism in America: Peggy Olson, Hillary Clinton, Mom & Me

Peggy Olson in the secretarial pool.
Peggy Olson in the secretarial pool.
Peggy Olson
Peggy Olson punches the Madison Avenue glass ceiling in Mad Men.

Beyond the booze, the babes, the cool, retro clothes, and the slick mid-century modern Madison Avenue backdrop,  AMC’s Mad Men is a story about office work and sexism at the dawn of the feminist era– before the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), before Roe v Wade, before Ms Magazine, and before the Equal Rights Amendment’s (ERA) revival.

Mad Men’s Peggy Olson is the quintessential poster girl for working women and office survival. As Mad Men begins, Peggy is the Plain Jane secretarial school graduate who is assigned to be the secretary for handsome cad, sex addict, and creative genius Don Draper. As the episodes unfold, Peggy breaks out of the secretarial pool– with Draper’s help– to become a copywriter. Even in her success, Peggy isn’t given the respect she deserves. Initially, she shares a tiny office with the copier, suffers through Draper’s  unrealistic demands that rob her personal life, and works primarily on women’s products– stockings, bras, make-up, and cleaning products. She presents at pitch meetings when they need someone to give “Mom’s opinion.” Fighting sexism and entrenched behaviors, roles, and ideas in the ad agency office, Peggy claws her way up the career ladder and against-all-odds becomes a sought-after creative genius in her own right toward the end of the series.

Mad Men presents a more honest view of the 1950s-60s than the moralistic TV shows of the period– like Father Knows Best, Ozzie and Harriet, or Lassie...

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In which I compliment Bernie Sanders for what some of his own supporters seem to think is bad for some reason

Crossposted from DemocraticDiva.com

Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders had turned in two solid election performances in the first two states of the Democratic Primary. He nearly won Iowa and went on the next week to win New Hampshire decisively. Rather than simply be happy about it, some Sanders supporters (egged on heavily by pundits who really want to keep a “horse race” going for ratings) have taken to taunting those of us who support Clinton with graphics of Sanders’ support with young people (especially women) in Iowa and New Hampshire.

One possible reason that young people (in states that have voted so far) might be flocking to Bernie that is not exciting, and isn’t about how young Dem primary voters mostly believe Hillary is an evil hellbitch sent from Goldman Sachs to turn them into catfood for vagina voting old hags, is that the Sanders platform includes a proposal for tuition-free public college for all. Which, leaving aside considerations of its feasibility in being passed and implemented, is a great idea! I think progressives/liberals across the board agree on that. But when I and others have raised that as a factor in Sanders’ youth support, some people have become strangely upset over it.

Consider the following scenario:

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On not taking the bait from the Bill Mahers

Crossposted from DemocraticDiva.com, and I wasn’t going to but because this stupid Steinem outrage has died down yet:

“Hey, Gratehouse, do you think this Victoria’s Secret catalog is sexist?“, he asked me.

It was twenty some odd years ago and this was in the break room at the torpedo maintenance facility where my interlocutor, Torpedoman’s Mate Third Class Lee, and I (I was Torpedoman’s Mate Second Class Gratehouse) worked in Yokusuka, Japan. This was in the dark days before online ordering was the norm and most of the women at the torp shop subscribed to the eponymous catalog. Not because we were lingerie junkies, but because by that time Victoria’s Secret had become a purveyor of a wide range of stylish and affordable women’s clothing, from the famous undergarments to jeans and boots and coats. Basically if you wanted more options than what was on offer the Navy Exchange or at the expensive stores out in town, you ordered from VS.

Needless to say, the frequently arriving catalogs were quite popular with some of the guys in the shop, as they featured (then, as now) the top supermodels of the day in underwear and bathing suits. The guys would pass them around (often without asking permission) and remark loudly on the attributes of the women within. There was more than mere male appreciation of the (very conventionally) attractive female form going on. It was shit like “boy, my wife sure doesn’t look like this!” It was a lot of very loud and very pointed commentary directed at whatever women were within earshot, with the intention clearly to remind us that we mere mortal women had failed to be as boner-inducing as were the Victoria’s Secret goddesses. Not that any of those guys were hot shit themselves but they knew society didn’t demand the kind of physical perfection from them as it demanded from women and they were not going to let us forget it.

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