If I Could Turn Back Time

I would have an excuse to play with Barbies. Mine were always divorced. The Ken dolls were set aside so that the girls could get into their red convertible and go shopping. Foreshadowing? Perhaps.

(Although recently I have reconsidered my feelings about playing with the Ken dolls, and would love to have one like the one above, maybe with an Italian accent)

In any case shopping for one of my "sobrinas" on-line I realized that the Barbie has developed quite a bit since my last foray into the genre 11 years ago, when a friend gave me the Puerto Rican Barbie (in criolla attire, suitably light-skinned) for my (very) belated quinceañera party. Now I see that they have: President-elect Barbie (a white and a black one), NASCAR, Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, Teresa, the Hispanic one, is a beautician complete with a blowdrier (el beauti!!!), the ethnic ones include South African and even Spanish (in a flamenco dress, naturally), a Kimora Lee Simmons and a  Beyonce (but no Oprah, Condi, or Ivana Trump, what?!), a Hitchcock The Birds Barbie complete with attached birds attacking the doll.



But the best is above, "1980s Bob Mackie Cher" as she is called. Proof positive that gay men are designing these dolls. Which is why I love them.

Last Statue of Franco in the Penninsula Removed in Santander

There is still one left in Melilla, pictured below.




This in no way makes up for the terrible blow to democracy and justice that took place when the Spanish court overruled Judge Garzon stating that he was not competent to argue about crimes against humanity, overturn the amnesty law, bring living perpetrators to justice, or nationally coordinate excavation of mass graves and DNA identification of victims.

Photos: EL PAIS (Madrid)

Betty Page

The gorgeous Betty Page died a few days ago. She is definitely one of my style icons. Let's never forget her fabulousness, bravery, sexiness, and glamour.

Obits:

http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1866059,00.html?imw=Y

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/12/arts/12page.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

Jodida, pero contenta

Limosna de Amores

Our New First Lady's Fierce Physiognomy

A friend shared a Salon.com column by a woman called Erin Kaplan in which she discusses the ways in which seeing a strong black woman, intelligent, working class, successful, and with a big booty, is so empowering to her. Now empowered has become a bit of a trite US american cliche, I realize this. But there is something to be said for "visibility" notwithstanding the ambiguities and pitfalls of essentializing people, of chromatism, of making easy assumptions about people and classifying them using fixed terms. Of course a "mutt" like myself (I LOVE President-elect Obama for using the vernacular, in PR we would say "sato" which is one of my favorite slang words from the Island and means just that - mixed breed dog of indeterminate origin), knows all too well the dangers of trying to fix identity. In any case, like Kaplan I can unabashedly celebrate Obama's racialized physiognomy - a powerful woman with a very large ass. Not a subject of shame, a mark of over-sexualized abandon and danger, an index of barely-suppressed racial miscegination (in my case), or a cause for alarm when trying to aspire to the pancake ass, concave chest cavity, bony extremities and pinched face beloved by Anna Wintour and her kin. All easier said than done if you have my kind of ethnic makeup, no matter how hard I starved myself, the booty wouldn't go away, luckily I realized it was an asset not a liability!

Read Kaplan, it's far more amusing than I could ever be:

http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2008/11/18/michelles_booty/index.html

Yes We Did

I am still coming off the incredulity, the euphoria, the release of months of extreme anxiety after last night's amazing landslide. I have never gotten involved in a presidential campaign, and despite my best efforts to retain my critical faculties, I drank the Kool-Aid for Barack Obama, projecting my infinite often inchoate desires onto his charismatic figure. But last night was not a night for questions about the future, it was a night for celebrating democracy, civic engagement, solidarity, freedom, hope, and change, as this country stands at the terrifying edge of a precipice. As a colonial subject of this country, half Puerto Rican, half Spanish, of ambiguous racial and class makeup, carrying the baggage of various exiles, physical and personal, I have never felt fully vested in this country as a citizen, nor fully accepted as an "American," whatever that means.

I decided to risk it anyway, and fight for freedom as this country careened into extreme right wing positions that created a police state, suppression of privacy, freedom of speech, and the balance of power between the branches of government, all based on a climate of fear that was used to justify exceptionalism any time concerns were voiced by citizens. Having lived in a right wing police state, and experienced state and guerrilla terrorism, the idea that citizens' freedoms should be curtailed based on exceptions to the rule of law seemed a perversion of everything this country has stood for and a dangerous capitulation to our enemies. 

Last night, as my neighbors celebrated in the streets, playing percussion, dancing, jumping, screaming, hollering, calling out, embracing, smiling, I realized that I had not seen citizens take to the streets spontaneously to express political sentiment since before 9/11. The political protests to protect the rights of women, gays, lesbians and bisexuals, workers, people with AIDS, or to protest war that I have attended over the years, were recently no longer viable in the same ways, subject as we are now to surveillance and limitations on the right to assembly. Last night, although local police were on hand to direct traffic, mostly cut off by the jubilant crowds, I did not feel the tension or antagonism that I had seen of late.  

As I volunteered for Obama, I met people I never would have come into contact with, saw indescribably appalling conditions that could be described as "third world" in the middle of Philadelphia, birthplace of freedom. People completely disenfranchised from the system, who'd experienced voter intimidation, whose concerns were largely absent from much of the campaign rhetoric, focused as it was on the "middle class." Yet they felt hope and registered to vote with us, teaching me a lesson about perseverance and bravery. I hope that the spirit of solidarity and willingness to serve will be harnessed by Obama to motivate the grass roots cadres created by his campaign to work in their communities, as I intend to do, ashamed of my own complacency, comfort, and cynicism.