street harassment/the perils of living in new york city?

there is very rarely a day in which i go outside for any period of time and do not end up getting hit on/whistled at/ogled/harassed by someone.

this happens no matter what i'm wearing - whether i'm dressed up, in a t-shirt and skirt, going to class, going to party, bundled up or baring skin.

and i will admit - sometimes it's flattering. other times it makes me feel sick. worthless, objectified, marginalized.

and yes, sometimes i do dress in a marginally outrageous fashion, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't at least expect some attention to go with it. but when someone treats me - and other girls - like objects, no matter what we are wearing or doing or where we are going, it sucks.

and it has to stop.

i don't know what i can do by myself, but there's a wonderful movement called hollaback (where both of these images are sourced from!) that is working for truth, justice, and the american way.

well, i might have confused them with superman, but you get the picture.

the point is, whether i dress provocatively or conservatively, whether i am influenced on a particular day by alexander mcqueen or zee from dmz or lady gaga or the basket case, i'm not doing it so i can get shouted at and "checked out" by men i don't know.