#RepealThe8th

The Handmaid’s Tale premise of women as brood mares, with our worth determined by fertility, and our purpose defined by ability to reproduce isn’t so far off from the reality many Irish women, and women around the world face today. Irish people have the opportunity to change this in the referendum to repeal the 8th…

Pleasure

As sex objects, female pleasure doesn’t come into play at all. Raised to feel shame for engaging in sexual activity, girls are taught that any pleasure derived from sex, be it partnered or solo, is wrong. Women are viewed in sex as they are in the law – by extension of and in relation to…

My nudes

female nudity is acceptable when arranged to patriarchal standards for the male gaze. however, when embraced by the autonomous female it is brushed off as vulgarity. by Clementine Yost ©

Cliterate

sometimes all I can feel is my own clitoris even then at least I can say that I’m cliterate. by Clementine Yost ©

As the calathea

Much deeper than fat and hatred of skin It is loathing of the whole self And so in love and ink I reclaim That which should, but never truly felt as though it were Mine Always one step away just out of my grasp For what is the distance between a trot and a canter…

Sundays are for self care

I call this the Don’t Make Me Leave My House or Put On Pants mask™ ® Are you ever in the mood for a mask, but don’t want to leave your house? That’s me! A nice mask sounded like the perfect Sunday hangover detox, yet I’m all out of my Lush masks (shout out to catastrophe cosmetic)….

Starting small, with only known things

for Imogen   Before the polished sand of her mirror Freckled and pale Limbs and moles as she remembered   Temptation in dismantling her self a specimen for dissection A tally of flaws   How radical would it be to love instead? Were that even allowed Unsure, starting small with only known things Affirming feeling…

How radical would it be?

   How radical would it be If we were all free Women to walk alone Without fear of follow grabbing, whistling Why don’t you smile Honey Where breast size isn’t assumed sexual invitation Those able to reproduce graduated from chattled brood mare to human of equal worth Where the skittled pockets of black and brown…