Molly Crabapple and The Fuckable Girls
I realize it’s a vain hope, but I never again want to hear a woman describe another woman as “fuckable”, and use their rants against life’s unfairness against men as a cover for their internalized misogyny.
The abuse heaped on cartoonist Molly Crabapple in particular is absolutely appalling, and an inordinate amount comes from other women. “Pop Porn Pixie” and comments about large breasts: excuse me, what are women supposed to do, wear bags over their entire bodies so their beauty doesn’t oppress you?
Vocal feminists who have prefaced their comments with qualifiers “This may sound sexist, BUT…”
It sounds sexist because it is sexist.
It’s no different than the many nasty comments women have directed at cosplayers for getting attention for showing their breasts, using their looks to get ahead.
Come on, who are you kidding? Is any cosplayer really getting all the great comics jobs with her boobs? Really? Is she drawing the X-Men because she shagged the editor?
No one gets very far in this business without having some work chops, and worrying about some other woman getting attention from drooling male fans because she’s cute, dresses funky, and sells prints in Artist Alley is just lame.
If people want to buy prints from a girl in a cute costume, it’s their money to spend as they wish. Not yours.
Any male professional who hires a woman because she’s pretty is an idiot. If Oppressive Boob Girl doesn’t have the chops to sell books, the company loses money. And then they’ll hire someone else. If he keeps pulling that number, his number is up, too. He’s the problem for shirking his duty as a company executive, not her.
And when she’s past her cute convention girl sell-by date (which is a pretty short window, because there are 10,000 other even prettier girls behind her,) then she will either make it on her art, or fade into cosplay queen obscurity, posting pics of herself on the internet from 25 years ago, when artists people can barely remember used her as a model. And then you can cackle at her expense.
C’mon, you know you want to.
If you have the art chops, if you really have what it takes, you do not have to be threatened by someone who is pretty. Not for one minute.
I am no spring chicken, I am not winning any beauty contests, and I have more work than I can handle.
And I don’t worry about anybody else.