I’m blogging at In The Powder Room today… and confessing to wanting a new hoover for Christmas.
Apparently that’s a divisive and controversial issue among women. Some say a kitchen appliance or a household item doesn’t ‘count’ as a present, and that any man who popped an iron under the tree could reasonably expect it to be his very last Christmas on earth.
I say nonsense. Giving me a hoover for Christmas is not a cold, covert way of implying that my rightful place is barefoot in the kitchen, chained to the sink.
I don’t need gift-wrapped useless bling to prove that I am loved. But my floors need a bloody good clean.
I wonder if we sometimes adhere to feminism when equality suits us – such as when it comes to equal pay or the freedom to have careers as well as kids – but happily ascribe to inequality at other times?
Are we fair-weather feminists if we give men power tools and shaving accessories as presents but find the idea of receiving household appliances as gifts offensive?
To my mind, being a feminist means that my femininity – indeed my identity – is secure enough to be able to handle a hoover for Christmas.
It’s not a step backwards or a sign that I’m unravelling everything Women’s Lib accomplished for me. It’s a practical present that means I’ll spend less of next year sweeping floors and more of it drinking gin and reading magazines.
It’s not a gift-wrapped insult – it’s just a hoover.
Suck it up.