From Oakley Brooks of the New York Times



LINCOLN CITY, Ore. — Women have surfed some of the biggest and scariest waves known to man. They have challenged the towering peaks at the break called Mavericks in northern California. They have elbowed into the crowded wave lineup on Hawaii’s North Shore. They have pulled into heavily loaded barrels of water at Teahupoo in Tahiti. But they had never had their own big wave contest — until Wednesday...



Keala Kennelly (right), famed female sufer, being awarded.


Read more here: Charging Ahead in First Big Wave Contest for Women [NYTimes.com]



 

 

©2010 REVOLUTION OF REAL WOMEN, LLC. All rights reserved.




(See video below)


A walk down the red carpet often resembles something of a tornado of flashing lights, rolling cameras and demanding reporters. Last night was no exception. At last night's AFI Film Fest premiere of 'Love and Other Drugs' (starring Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhaal), something rare and peculiar occurred. We just so happened to catch an LA Times blog that reported a story that most people missed...


Anne Hathaway was walking down the red carpet answering questions about her latest film (in which she plays a woman experiencing an early onset of Parkinson's Disease) when a reporter cut in asking about her 'get-in-shape-fast secrets.' Without hesitation, Anne's publicist quickly snapped, 'Does anyone have a serious question about the movie?' and helped Anne move on to the next question. You can tell that, for a fraction of a second, Anne didn't quite know what to do, but she handled the moment with class .

Celebrities answer questions about their body, weight, diet and exercise routines all.the.time. Yes, Anne has answered these types of questions before, and we've blogged about her jerk of a personal trainer, RRW ADversary™ David Kirsch regarding his work with Victoria's Secret models last year, but this was a rare moment caught on camera. RARELY do we get to see a reporter admonished for asking inappropriate questions about an actor's body.


For this, we give huge kudos to Anne and her publicist for taking the high road. We don't know about you, but this put a little spring in our step today!

Here's a question... What if we had more celebrities and their publicity machines refuse to pander to gossip reporters who just want to talk about a person's body, beauty and weight? Hmmm... food for thought...


Here's the LA Times blog (and video)...

'Love and Other Drugs' premiere: Anne Hathaway did her research on Parkinson's [video]





©2010 REVOLUTION OF REAL WOMEN, LLC. All rights reserved.

 

For decades, female athletes have had a number of tough battles on their hands -- to be taken seriously and regarded as equals in the world of competitive sports and athletics. Still today, women are not allowed to participate in this Olympic sport due to the wrongful judgment of the International Olympics Committee. We say, GET WITH THE TIMES already!


Now, a team of young women are out there fighting to gain gender equality in ski jumping -- the only Olympic sport that has yet to recognize women.


Below is the film trailer for 'Ready to Fly' and the story behind it...


GO TEAM! RRW™ supports you!!!


 




THE STORY

We begin in 1996. An intrepid 10-year-old stands above a steeply sloping strip of snow, and two tracks that end suddenly. Stomach churning, heart racing, she points her skis down, pushes off the bar, drops into a low crouch, and explodes off the final lip. As she soars into the air, Lindsey Van begins a journey that will change the world.


Through triumphs and tragedies, shattered records and fractured vertebrae, hollow promises and a broken heart, this reluctant hero will persevere. And just when all is lost — when the world has turned on her, bigoted old men have shattered her dreams, and all the fight has ebbed from her battered body — she will find new hope in a startling, green-eyed protégé.


Buoyed by the fierce determination of 15-year-old Sarah Hendrickson, Van will redouble her efforts. Not for herself this time, but for young Sarah, and all the women who will come after them. Together, these two will lead a multi-generational effort to give young women the ability to pursue their dreams.


A portion of the proceeds from the film will go to support Women’s Ski Jumping USA.

Official 'Ready to Fly' website: http://www.getreadytoflyfilm.com/








©2010 REVOLUTION OF REAL WOMEN, LLC. All rights reserved.

 



If ever we've seen a confident kid, it's Willow Smith (yes, daughter of Will Smith and Jada Pinkett). She exudes a feeling of empowerment, joy and solid uniqueness, shrugging off what other people might think of her hair style, her outfits or her music. Her bold style gets her attention, adoration and respect, all the while staying away from sexualizing her image and her childhood.

You might think, how could they sexualize her image? She's only 9 years old! Well, when you compare it to the kind of media out there these days, and look at other young girls around the same age as Willow, *ahem* [....Miley Cyrus' little sister, Noah Cyrus....] you might see why we admire the way that Willow carries herself and how she's obviously receiving some solid parenting and guidance at home.



Needless to say, we can't get enough of Willow.

Recently, there's been a huge amount of buzz surrounding her new single, 'Whip My Hair.' Not that we needed confirmation, but we're thinking the family has some serious talent running through their veins, because this kid rocks. What's indescribably refreshing is that the video isn't sexualized. It's not promiscuous. It's not sexy. It's just a kid being a kid...


And there's one more thing not to be missed... Contained in the video for 'Whip My Hair' are lessons on race, self-esteem and girl empowerment.


HUGE KUDOS to Willow for her insightful, empowering song and video. We need more media out there like this.


Some wise words from Janell Hobson's MsMagazine.com piece:

'I get a real kick out of seeing this young artist demonstrating riotous “Black Grrl Power” as she walks into a drab, white classroom (let’s not miss the racial metaphors there) sporting some rainbow-colored
fashion and, my favorite part, dipping the ends of her long braids into pots of paint and letting loose. Her braided extensions serve as paintbrushes that disrupt and literally “color” the learning environment.
Where did this young girl learn such boldness? Where can I sign up?'

'If our girls can take the lead from Smith and Sesame Street and proclaim “comfort in their own skins” and love for themselves–especially their hair–they have already won half the battle. May they
transition into womanhood with the same confidence.'



Alright, that's enough talkin'...

Here's the video... :)



©2010 REVOLUTION OF REAL WOMEN, LLC. All rights reserved.

 

By DOMINIQUE BROWNING of the New York Times

 

Why Can't Middle-Aged Women Have Long Hair?

[Original article HERE]

 

MY mother hates it. My sister worries about it. My agent thinks I’m hiding behind it. A concerned friend suggests that it undermines my professional credibility. But in the middle of my life, I’m happy with it. Which is saying a lot about anything happening to my 55-year-old body.

 

I feel great about my hair.

 

I have long hair. I’m not talking about long enough to brush gently on my shoulder — when I tilt my head. I’m not talking about being a couple of weeks late to the hairdresser. I’m talking long. Long enough for a ponytail with swing to it. Long enough to sit against when I’m in a chair. Long enough to have to lift it up out of the sweater I’m pulling over my head. Long enough to braid.

 

What’s worse (to my critics) is that my hair is graying. Of course it is. Everyone’s hair is graying. But some of us aren’t ready to go there. That’s fine with me — I’m not judgmental about dyes. In fact, I find the range and variety of synthetic hair color to be an impressive testament to our unending chemical creativity. I’m particularly fascinated by that streaky kaleidoscopic thing some blondes do that looks kind of like Hair of Fawn. For my own head, I’m a tad paranoid about smelly, itchy potions.

 

No one seems to have any problems when a woman of a certain age cuts her hair off. It is considered the appropriate thing to do, as if being shorn is a way of releasing oneself from the locks of the past. I can see the appeal, and have, at times in my life, gone that route. Some women want to wash the men (or jobs) right out of their hair. Others of us have to have at them with scissors. Again, I do not judge. Go right ahead, be a 60-year-old pixie.

 

So why do people judge middle-aged long hair so harshly? I’ve heard enough, by now, to catalog the multitudinous complaints into several broad categories.

 

YOU’RE ACTING OUT. Long hair is not the appropriate choice of grown-ups. It says rebellion. Hillary Rodham Clinton softens her do, and sets off a bizarre Howl of Angry Inches, as if she had betrayed some social compact. Well, my long hair is indeed a declaration of independence. I am rebelling, variously, against Procter & Gamble, my mother, Condé Nast and, undoubtedly, corporate America in general. Whereas it used to be short hair that was a hallmark of being a liberated woman — remember the feminist chop? I do; I did it — these days, long hair is a mark of liberation.

 

My mother has a lot to say about my looks: Where did you find that shirt? Did you forget your makeup? She recently suggested, fluttering her hands in the vicinity of her ears, that I get just a very little trim. As if she thought she could still trick me into the barber’s chair to re-enact one of the central traumas of my childhood, when I was marched into a hair salon (so that’s where mothers went?) with hair to my waist and came out an outraged, stunned, ravaged 7-year-old with a stylish, hateful pageboy.

 

My mother’s favorite expression to me is “Make an Effort.” What she doesn’t understand, of course, is that just because things don’t turn out the way she thinks they should doesn’t mean an effort wasn’t made. It is incredible how parents and children never let go of old habits of relating. My mother still makes me feel like a 15-year-old. However, that no longer feels like a bad thing, if you see what I mean.

 

YOU’RE STILL LIVING IN THE ’70S. And why not? I like being 55 going on 15. As far as I’m concerned, we never did get better role models than that gang of girls who sang their hearts out for us through lusty days and yearning nights: Bonnie Raitt, Joni Mitchell, Linda Ronstadt, Cher. Emmylou Harris is still a goddess in my book, with that nimbus of silver hair floating past her shoulders. Next thing you know, we’ll take to wearing beaded leather headbands across our foreheads. And, I might add, that was a good look.

 

If you want to throw Princess Grace, Brigitte Bardot, Ingrid Bergman, Pussy Galore, Sophia Loren, Charlotte Rampling, Isabelle Huppert, Julie Christie and Catherine Deneuve into the mix, who am I to complain? While those sexy sisters are hovering, I might note, with a sense of wonder, that Europeans are much more comfortable with long hair on women of a certain age. But then again, they’re more comfortable with women of a certain age in general. Perhaps I should move to Paris. Come to think of it, this would be making the kind of effort that would make my mother happy.

 

LONG HAIR IS HIGH MAINTENANCE. Yes, I’ll admit that it is a look that requires tender loving care. It is impossible to body surf without getting seaweed tangled up in it. It is impossible to get it completely dry when one is in a rush to get to a job interview or a blind date. It is impossible to forget one’s hairbrush when one travels. It is impossible to garden or farm or weave or cook without one’s hair getting in the way. I have knitted many a gray strand into many a scarf. Which, by the way, I consider a nice touch. Anyone who disagrees can send me back his Christmas present. It is impossible to let the vacuuming go for too long, lest the bezoars (new vocabulary word) become large enough to choke a tiger.

 

You would think that having long hair means you are spending a lot of money on hair products. I won’t even tell you what my Madison Avenue hairdresser, Joseph — the consummate high-end hair professional! — told me about how we shouldn’t even be using all those chemically laden shampoos. O.K., I will tell you: Those shampoos strip out the hair’s protective oils, and then you have to replace them with other chemical brews. He recommends regular hot water rinses and massaging of the scalp with fingertips. A little patience is required while the scalp’s natural oils rebalance themselves and — voilà — glossy, thick tresses, for free.

 

Is it not wonderfully sexy the way our grandmothers, those women of the prairie, or concrete canyons, would braid their hair up in the morning and let their cowboys unravel them at night? Is there not a variety of excellent looks for taming long hair in high winds? What is cooler than stopping to wrap a silk scarf around your mane before you step into a zippy convertible?

 

MEN LIKE LONG HAIR. Wait. You say that like it’s a bad thing? Long hair is archetypal. And everyone knows that archetypes are all tangled up with desire. There’s a reason mermaids, Selkies and witches have long hair. Ballerinas, too. We all know Rapunzel’s tale, how she sat at the top of her lonely tower, her long hair hanging out the window, until finally, a prince climbed its ropy length to rescue her. Or impregnate her, depending on which version you read. Either way, it worked.

Men like to play with women’s long hair. They like to run their fingers through heavy tresses. They like to loosen tight braids. They like it when long hair tents over their faces during soulful kisses. The long of it is that long hair is sexy. (So is short hair, of course, but in a different way, and we’re not making that case — yet.) The short of it is that long hair means there is always, at least, hope.

 

Dominique Browning, the author of “Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, Put on My Pajamas, and Found Happiness,” writes a column for the Environmental Defense Fund Web site and blogs at SlowLoveLife.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2010 REVOLUTION OF REAL WOMEN, LLC. All rights reserved.

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