subscribe: Posts | Comments

Slutwalk London – reclaiming our bodies, reclaiming our selves

7 comments

Image courtesy of the author

When I first heard about Slutwalk, I had mixed feelings.

Reclaiming the word ‘slut’ to combat rape and rape myths? Really? How?

But my work as a journalist has taught me many valuable lessons, and chief among them is: Never go with your first reaction, always find out more.

I couldn’t make up my mind about Slutwalk before the fact. So I knew I needed to go along and find out for myself.

In the meantime, I listened with interest to the unfolding debate – much of it here on WVoN.

I listened to the aspirations of the women who organised the march: to fight for a sexual assault survivor’s right not to feel that they were guilty of crimes that were committed against them.

I listened to the frustration and despair from women who have survived rape and violence, and of their horror to hear the word wielded by feminists claiming to be fighting in their name

I am in no position – nor would I dream of daring to – invalidate, intellectually or otherwise, the discomfort or displeasure that the concept of Slutwalk has invoked.

Yet on Saturday I walked with 3,000 men and women on a march that the organisers thought only 500 would attend and I could not help but feel that there was more that united us with those who did not attend than separated us.

This was no more true than at the closing rally, where for two and a half hours, speaker after speaker kept the thousands of visitors to Trafalgar Square rapt with their message, the same message we had been chanting on the streets of London for the hours before:

Whatever we wear, wherever we go, yes means yes and no means no.

The speakers were many and great.

We heard of the damage already sustained by frontline services engaged in the long fight against rape and rape myths.

We heard from writer Jane Fae who told us, “in part by way of an apology (that) men do not understand. To them rape is just statistics, they can’t understand the fear women have of just walking on the street.”

We heard from Sheila Farmer and Niki Adams of the English Collective of Prostitutes about the vulnerability of prostitutes, not only to the threat of rape but to the horror and injustice of never seeing their attackers brought to justice while they themselves face prosecution.

We heard from Cristel Amiss of the Black Women’s Rape Action Project of how 70% of women asylum seekers have suffered rape and other sexual violence.

But most of all, we heard about the dangerous myths and stereotypes that surround rape – chief amongst them being the attitude that started the global Slutwalk movement, that “women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimised.”

There has been a strong focus in the feministosphere (yes, I’m using that) about the reclaiming of the word ‘slut’ as the primary focus of Slutwalk.

Not only was it not why I was there, but I didn’t really get the feeling that it was the primary focus for any of us.

As I dressed that morning, I wondered how many women would be responding to the invitation to ‘dress like a slut’ that has raised the eyebrows and interest of so many media commentators. As my sister dismissed my outfit as ‘not slutty enough’, I also worried about the possibility of marchers meeting aggression from bystanders along the way.

But if anyone was a threat on Saturday, it was us – a threat to the established order that says we must all take responsibility for the actions of a vile minority.

The power of the label ‘slut’ is lost when a crowd of 3000 men and women embrace it as one and wear it, not as a badge of pride, but to show, as more than one woman’s banner declared: Either all of us are sluts or none of us are.

In fact, it occurred to me that my fears – about my dress, about the reactions of onlookers – were exactly why I should be marching.

Slutwalk has raised many discussions about women’s complicity in our own oppression. Does our dress inflame male violence? Should we take responsibility for this violence by changing our clothes?

But the truth is we’re all damned if we do and damned if we don’t in the endless dance of the ‘slut’ versus the ‘prude’.

Whatever I wear, men stare at my chest, and whatever women wear, they will continue to be raped, abused and assaulted as long as the current attitudes and myths about the gender divide continue.

Maybe this is why the walk has divided us as feminists.

Half of us are determined not to play misogyny at its own game, using its language and its rules.

The other half of us are so tired of not being able to escape the clutches of women hatred in its many devious and deviant forms – in pop videos, in the fads of Hollywood waxes and Vajazzling –  that we choose to pin to our own chests misogyny’s harshest label, and scream it back at our oppressors en masse.

For me Slutwalk captured the inescapable truth that through misogyny’s lens we are all sluts – whether we walked on Saturday in passion and pride or whether we stayed at home in disbelief and despair.

Whatever our reaction to the concept of a Slutwalk, the fact that we react at all shows the power this tiny word still has. Our reactions highlight the inherent judgements brought to the fore about women’s sexuality, its commodification and about our collective objectification as women.

And that tells me that whether the trend of Slutwalk continues or not, we still have a long, long road ahead, and I want those 3000 men and women with me every step of the way.

  1. jane.osmond says:

    What a fabulous piece Sarah. My feelings in a nutshell.

  2. Tonia Earey says:

    What a great piece Sarah, I was struggling with the whole concept and could not sort out why – you have helped me understand my own beliefs – thank you. And I so agree – damned if we do and damned if we dont. I am still not sure if all my actions support women or buy into a feminist concept that I am not wholly comfortable with – I guess I will keep reflecting. Thank you

    • Thanks Tonia, I really appreciate that, high praise! And that’s exactly how I felt before going – struggling with the whole concept. To be honest, I don’t think that’s been helped by the media coverage focusing on reclaiming the word ‘slut’ or on the issue of what the marchers were wearing (proving their sexism by mostly focusing on the women, when there were LOADS of men in dresses and bras!) instead of the main message, which I think is really about stirring up conversations about rape myths and the lack of sufficient action to address rape and rape prevention.

      You said: “I am still not sure if all my actions support women or buy into a feminist concept that I am not wholly comfortable with – I guess I will keep reflecting.”

      I’m really interested in that if you fancy saying more?

      Thanks again.

  3. Thanks Sarah, this is a great piece.

  4. Aimée says:

    I just wanted to leave a comment to say that this article is fantastic – and I think will address many peoples concerns over using the word slut, but why we think it’s so damned important to confront it and attack it and disprove that anyone is a slut. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, indeed!

  5. As one of the founders of SlutWalk, I’ve seen thousands of messages from all sides of the spectrum. Our main focus was to draw attention to the culture of victim blaming we all live in; to give a voice to those who are, and have been afraid to use protective services when they need it most.

    The word ‘slut’ isn’t for everyone. We’ve understood that from the beginning. But the cause to end this culture IS for everyone. Many people are on the fence about SlutWalk and ‘slut’. I thank you so very much for attending the London event, to see for yourself. You were able to experience to true essence of SlutWalk: emotion, anger, love, solidarity and the true power of people coming together.

    Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *