A Quilt for Women Who Don’t Sew

December 13, 2008 at 9:59 am Leave a comment

I decided to start a “Women Who Would Never Join a Women’s Group.” group. Something that would mix n’ match the balls of the suffragette movement, the acerbic wit of the Algonquin round table, the unshaven salad days of the women’s lib movement, the practicality of high school secretarial clubs, the one-dimensional camaraderie of Tupperware and sex toy parties, the retro pragmatism of group baking, the reading is FUN-dimensional chick-lit book clubs, the ceiling-banging execu-broad networking groups, the spirituality of a woman’s sangha, the capitalism of a women’s investment club, the controlled creativity of a women’s chorus, the hedonism of chicks who meet for happy hour, the deep discussions of a women’s hiking club where someone just happens to have a joint, woman’s improv theater, the endless self-analysis of “women’s issues” groups, women’s’ recovery groups, groups of chicks without a shred of drug, sexual or other kind of impulse control, women who journal, women who want to journal but don’t, women who retch at the thought or journaling, and those two chicks who used to do comedy routines using their breasts as puppets.

The kind of group that everyone from that woman you see in Smithsonian pointing to strands of DNA, to wonkettes, rock grrrllls, addicts, bloggers, vloggers, YouTube-ers, podcasters, Jitterbug users, Calvinists, techo-phobes, compulsive networkers, introverts, PHD’s, GED’s, stay-at-home-moms, stay-at-home blobs, and my husband’s favorite bartender at Sam’s could join. A little Rusty Warren, a little Oprah. A little Tina Fey, A little Delilah. A little Hillary, a little Britney.

Hell, with enough party favors from all decades, we’d be able to get along-maybe even forge the kind of fun and truly life-changing ideas that a homogeneous group never could. And I bet guys would would be falling all over themselves for an invite to our holiday bacchanal.

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Roberta Gale

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