Jenny Erikson wasn’t addressing me, but I feel her sting just the same:
For some strange reason, the conservative blogosphere has spent the last three days debating Tina Korbe’s hemline rather than the bottom line on Barack Obama’s budget. Because, you know, that’s what’s important.
Ohmygosh! A pretty girl wore a skirt! Hold the presses! What could she possibly mean by her wardrobe choices? Is it scandalous? Is she advertising?
In my own semifundamentalist (read: “half-assed”) way, I had thrown in some gratuitous commentary of my own, which, had I written it with any panache, might have achieved the desired effect: appearing to take a position without actually taking one. (Short version: feigned outrage “What were they thinking?” followed by a reminder from that still, small voice in the back of my head that says “Well, they obviously weren’t thinking of you.” There are times when I think I thrive on feminine indifference.)
It is Jenny Erikson’s point, and a fairly inarguable one, that a woman should wear what she darn well pleases, and it doesn’t matter what you (by which I mean “I”) think about it. I left by way of atonement the following comment:
My own reaction to all this is highly confused: if a woman is willing to show something, I’m certainly willing to look at it, but I’ll probably feel, deep down inside, that I don’t deserve this honor.
That’s me: all the inarticulateness of the Double Rainbow Guy, with none of the exuberance.