on being ageless.

It is a great essay! But after reading "What would Susan do?" by Matthew Zachary I must note that we should give credit where credit is due. The "think before you pink" project began in 2002 by BREAST CANCER ACTION - one of the leading and growing breast cancer advocacy organizations in the country. Their politics, ideologies and mission transcends ageism and is not limited to a stereotyped 40+ crowd. It's quite bothersome when "young" people (supposedly under 40) stereotype the "non-young" (anyone over 40). GenerationX has ALL generations before them to thank for paving the way for their inventions and attitudes. The only difference between my diagnosis at 36 and my diagnosis at 40 was my age in years- I was the same person. My rebellious, socially inquisitive and ageless disposition will remain throughout my years and GenX will discover this truth themselves one day. After 40 we don't automatically buy into questionable mainstream rallies like the pink ribbon. Neither did my 70+ year old grandmother for that matter when she had breast cancer. Plenty of "young" women support Komen and pink ribbon product consumption (hardcore!- trust me I've talked to some of them). Attend a Susan G. Komen walk and you'll see what I mean. It's not an age/generation thing that makes someone uncomfortable with organizations like Komen or PINK marketing in general. It's a rising social/political conscience issue that's been addressed for years by many women with strong social and feminist views even before GenX when we weren't even so saturated with it. We must all be responsible reporters/writers and not buy into ageism like so many other facets of the media where YOUNG is better. It's the ideologies and politics of rebellious generations before us of all ages that actually gives rise to progress and unveils oppressive ideologies and presents these observations to the next generation. I mean, I'm 44 but my clothing line and website are informing younger women of non-traditional/mainstream choices they didn't think they had. Many of my garments have sold to 25-30 year olds with and without cancer. I'm going to be cool and progressive even at 90! In a world where we require permission by red-carpet celebrities or DOVE soap commercials to be proud of grey hair and wrinkles it's important for those of us, of all ages, with a sensitive social conscience to come together- to be ourselves and embrace our strong voices beyond the boundaries of the number of our living years.

Komen knows exactly what they are doing and their marketing has absolutely everything and nothing to do with age. That's the brilliance of Komen. They're simply a money machine. When many women wrote to Komen and complained about this ad a Komen representative responded by saying the ad was intended to reach a "younger" crowd by using an "image they could relate to". While social and feminist conscience women were enraged even by the response, the signs remained. I'd like to say that Komen is out of touch with the younger crowd but it seems they are not. If we are really out to change the flow of this river we must address the fundamental "wrongs" in these campaigns for "cure/research" and get young people on board with the offensive social/feminine/consumer assault that these campaigns provoke and not just calling "foul" to the superficial by-products of the regime (the pink ribbons and product consumption). And even more importantly we shouldn't ever separate the old from the youth in these battles - you need some of us on board- we're fighting the same battles and we're passionate. To say "We're on our own. And as I like to say, GenX cancer will only be fixed by GenX." is a bit of a stretch.

I personally think all women should read The Cancer Journals by Audre Lorde in order to clearly understand how far we have not come in defining and owning our personal feminine ideologies and our bodies. The PINK thing transcends marketing/disease/body/consumer exploitation. It's simply oppressive and women in the fields of feminist studies, anthropology, socio-political and marketing have been writing about it for years already. Until people educate themselves on HOW we got to this point with disease marketing/exploiting/profiteering via product consumption and the landscape of advertising they will not understand what it will take to change it's course. The Susan G. Komen foundation is not a bad organization. All of the effort and contributiuons they make towards funding research and assiting the econimically challenged/medically under-served population with screening is commendable. For me, it is not only their no holds barred marketing and advertising that I find has much to be desired but their capitalistic conservative political practices are transparent as well. The foundation lobbied against a pro-consumer patient-rights bill in 1999, 2000, and 2001; the bill that the company sponsored is known as "the HMO Bill of Rights." Not to mention they clearly display absolutely no regard or interest in the causes of breast cancer. As the rising rock-star of money making/receiving organizations for the "cause" I wish they'd at least run a more progressive, socially sensitive, feminist sensitive show- stop exploiting our bodies, stop implying breast cancer is all about our breast and not our lives and stop making cancer out to be something we fight, kick and punch... or lose to. Treat us, the consuming public, like intelligent people. We have also only to blame all the companies who participate in "pink product" merchandising at the expense of those fighting breast cancer while pushing their products stamped with a ribbon. For every lid licked, every product labeled at the grocery with a pink ribbon and beyond simply lies a transparent opportunity to make a buck (with usually very little actually going to the "cause") through passive, empty empathy. Every October there's an open invitation to profit from of a disease- someone else's misfortune. The question is not "what would Susan do?"- it would be arrogant to even speculate or imply she would do anything differently than her sister.

Resources from Rebel1in8:

Patient No More: The Politics of Breast Cancer by Sharon Batt

Breast Cancer: Society Shapes an Epidemic by Anne S. Kasper

The Politics of Breast Cancer by Maureen Hogan Casamayou

The Breast Cancer Wars: Hope, Fear, and the Pursuit of a Cure in Twentieth-Century America by Barron H. Lerner

A Darker Ribbon: A Twentieth-Century Story of Breast Cancer, Women, and Their Doctors by Ellen Leopold

Pink Ribbons, Inc by Samantha King

Unravel The Ribbon by Sarah Lochlann Jain

Pink Ribbon Madness.

Welcome to Cancer Land.

Crunch For the Cure.

Awareness and truths.

more about stars.

After participating in this conversation a few days ago and then this comment thread last night and then found "The Warrior" today... I really need these to cleanse my raging palette.

hope's the dope...

Pink Ribbons, Inc
by Samantha King

Breast Cancer: Society Shapes an Epidemic
by Anne S. Kasper

A Darker Ribbon: A Twentieth-Century Story of Breast Cancer, Women, and Their Doctors
by Ellen Leopold

Sarah Lochlann Jain
Unravel the Pink Ribbon

awareness.

ricochet.
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the polaroid diptych:
"A summer with 65 GY, 2000"

beauty in the dark.

sometimes anger shines like a star in the sky. it's beauty often only seen in the dark.

... If people don't get how offensive and oppressive all of the pink stuff is and how transparent the merchandizing is than I simply don't know what to say to you. But Amy brings up the core issue with the pink products and the marketing. As usual our society has found a way to make money off of breasts. It is as simple as that. And then it's pushed further with a COLOR that is intrinsically attached to the ideals of FEMININE- pink is for girly girls. When a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer, or worse, has to have a mastectomy her entire social and political ideologies that surround her body collide with her mortality. That's what makes this disease different AND popular. The issue with this pink stuff transcends all of the capitalistic-money-making-monsters and invades my dignity as a woman who has survived this f****** disease TWICE!!! Am I angry? YES. You bet I am. Am I angry that I had cancer? NO. I AM ANGRY FOR THE IGNORANCE THAT SPREADS THROUGHOUT MAINSTREAM AMERICA AND CONTINUES TO SABOTAGE MY INTEGRITY AS AN EQUAL PARTICIPANT IN THE WORLD WHO DESERVES NOT TO HAVE HER BODY, SEXUALITY AND FEMININITY EXPLOITED. Save the boobs, "save the tatas" and pink BREAST awareness are messages that are woven into the forces that drive women into reluctant post mastectomy reconstruction and to wear uncomfortable ugly prosthesis because it's all about the breast, it's all about our femininity isn't it? It's a fear driven campaign.  And if you don't get how manipulated you are by this clever pink seductive "let's pull on their heart strings and offend their sexuality by making it ALL about breast while we're at it" campaign simply to makemoney than you are simply not observing the world with clarity. PINK sells stuff- BREASTS sell stuff and that's the bottom line.
The campaign simply has to change and any strong minded AWARE woman knows this.

that is a response to this.

Note: "When a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer, or worse, has to have a mastectomy..." By "worse" I am not referring to a mastectomy as an unfortunate mutilating surgery or that the mastectomy is worse than the cancer itself. Mastectomies SAVE LIVES! and after having a lumpectomy followed by radiation treatments at the time of my first diagnoses I can say without regret but with deep hindsight honesty that if I could live it over I would do it differently. After a second diagnoses/re-occurrence several years later (resulting in a mastectomy) I believe a mastectomy the first time around makes better medical and health sense. When I said "worse" I was referring/playing into to the physical, visual symbol of breast cancer "fear" AS IF the mastectomy is the worst part of it.
and
"...because it's all about the breast, it's all about our femininity isn't it?"- please insert a grand tone of distaste here.

tulips and eggshells.

comment to "The Breastless Debate".

If this conservative, oppressive, misguided society in which I live in can get away with shoving it's mainstream-shallow-ideals of how a woman's body should look in my face then I have the right to shove these unmeasured thoughtful words back.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said to myself- “this wasn’t a political decision- a statement maker”. The decision to walk the earth without a fake breast was a simple one based on my own personal ideologies and tolerances. However, I am wiling to admit that I am living in a “sociosexual” bombarded/guided society and that any decision about my body and how I “display” myself in the world is informed by my reactions to the society in which I live. I make every effort to guide my inner dialogue with clarity and honesty and to make sure there are no conflicts within my language. I don’t say things like “I wanted to look, feel normal” like so many women with implants and prosthesis say. I don’t suggest that I “disposed of my vanity after my mastectomy” like I’ve read from a woman under-going breast reconstruction. There is nothing normal feeling/looking or vanity-free about breast reconstruction or prostheses. Socially- yes these bodies look normal because clothing aids as a buffer. Naked and alone with the truth exposed, the trickery fails. If we can’t all agree on that then someone is kidding themselves. There is a massive refusal to admit the raw truth behind what supports our decisions as we design our bodies and socially conscious selves after a single or bi-lateral mastectomy. If there is indeed some degree of a sociosexual statement to be perceived from the simple act of refusing anything fake in/on my body then so be it. But no one should misguide themselves and believe, not even a mere comforting second, that the decision to have an implant or two or to wear a prosthesis is not PURELY a socially and/or sexually driven act.

We must all thoughtfully, truthfully clarify our language and acknowledge the very real pressures that surround the manipulation of our bodies- physically and socially. Until women can look in the mirror and empower themselves with their own deep truths, without prejudice and judgment, the continued deception of who or what guides our decisions will be the fist that pummels us more deeply into the depths of what seems like, bottomless oppression.

I'm sick of the implication that moving forward without reconstruction or a prosthesis is the inferior solution. The medical arena as well as the government makes sure we have complete access to and financial support for reconstructive surgery. Amoena provides a "better quality of life" and Nearly You makes sure that we can get the perfect $300+ prosthesis and all the swim wear and bras our little hearts desire. But try to find one- JUST ONE single cup bra (besides the one I made!) or garment that embraces the body with one or no breast. Mainstream America's obsession to look normal and/or deny our own mortality by acts of deception forces women who don't buy into these illusions to find resolve in granny shawls, over-sized t-shirts, dart-less garments, speedos and/or diving gear. I had a breast removed. NOT my damn sense of style!

It could not be more blatant that society wants to deny that these single or no-breasted bodies exist in hopes that eventually we will join the masses- "faking it" while in the peaceful, quiet folds of a pretty, soft, cozy big fat pink ribbon.

"Prosthesis offers that empty comfort of 'Nobody will know the difference'. But it is that very difference which I wish to affirm, because I have lived it, and survived it, and wish to share that strength with other women. If we are to translate the silence surrounding breast cancer into language and action against this scourge, then the first step is that women with mastectomies become visible to each other. For silence and invisibility go hand in hand with powerlessness."
Audre Lorde, "The Cancer Journals", 1980
(Chapter III, "Breast Cancer: Power vs. Prosthesis")

and mere observations here.

a bodice front.

photo: oil painting on vintage paperclip box (cardboard), metal clamp, sewing pattern and wire, 1992

history prevails. art and life come full circle.
i retrieved this old scuplture/painitng from a box in our storage loft. i am always amazed at how well it survives the many moves and mis-handling. it rolls around in the box with the clamp attached. i made this piece shortly after my undergraduate studies (1992-ish) and in one of my first studios outside of academia. i was utilizing sewing patterns independent of actually using them for sewing. i have been thinking about this piece a lot lately as i have witnessed the ongoing various textures of offensive, irresponsible media messages regarding, not only the BREAST cancer campaign, but the centuries old strategy of using the female body for exploitation, whether admittedly or not, in any advertising.

example 1.
example 2.
example 3.
example 4.
example 5.
etc. etc. etc.

when i install this work for display i am always careful to consider the conceptual implications spoken by the tension between the wire and the tissue paper. in the past i have pulled the wire upwards so tightly that the tissue nearly tears- implying the unbearable weight of the clamp and its content. tonight, however, i chose to mysticize the strength of the tissue over the weight of the clamp, the box and its image, leaving the bodice unaffected.

REAL awareness. and truths.

"When I walked into the doctor's office, I was really rather pleased with myself, all things considered, pleased with the way I felt, with my own flair, with my own style. The doctor's nurse, a charmingly bright and steady woman of about my own age who had always given me a feeling of quiet no-non-sense support on my other visits, called me into the examining room. On the way, she asked me how I was feeling.
"Pretty good," I said, half-expecting her to make some comment about how good I looked.
"You're not wearing a prosthesis," she said, a little anxiously, and not at all like a question.
"No," I said, thrown off my guard for a minute. "It really doesn't feel right," referring to the lambswool puff given to me by the Reach For Recovery volunteer in the hospital.
Usually supportive and understanding, the nurse now looked at me urgently and disapprovingly as she told me that even if it didn't look exactly right it was "better than nothing," and that as soon as my stitches were out I could be fitted for a "real form."
"You will feel so much better with it on," she said. "And besides, we really like you to wear something, at least when you come in. Otherwise it's bad for the morale of the office."
I could hardly believe my ears! I was too outraged to speak then, but this was to be only the first assault on my right to define and to claim my own body."

the above words are reference to October, 1978 shortly following her mastectomy and is an excerpt from page 60 of "The Cancer Journals" (Special Edition), 1980, by Audre Lorde

and 22 years later.
May 2000.


and 26 years later.
March 2004.

and 29 years later on a Wednesday.
April 2007.

and in the spring.
April 2007.

and in the Fall.
September 2007.


and 30 years later in the summer.
August 2008.

tolerant, team rebels.

a blast?
well, i'll be honest... these "awareness" walks are never a blast for me. they are a mixed bag of joy- because i'm there amongst the living- but also with restrained, throat stiffening sadness- because the "in memory" tags surround you.

and then there's the side of me that really didn't want to be there- just get me out of "cancerland". at one point i even suggested that we cut out of the park and get breakfast. g immediately started looking for a pathway out. but it seemed too much like cheating. and i couldn't rationalize or intellectualize why i wanted to escape so we just kept walking. but escape is what i wanted. instead i clammed up. got cranky. and entered a real funk that i am just starting to come out of.

and then there was my t-shirt. the one in the photograph. the one i 'whipped up' the night before because i refused to wear the bright pink, too big- "i would never wear this t-shirt on any other day of the year so why wear it now" race t-shirt. but i must say i have never felt so out of place as i did in the sea of over 25,000 walkers this day. and despite my "rebel" reputation i just could not muster the kahoonas to rise above the feeling of defeat and thinking "why didn't i just wear the big ugly shirt?". then i was frustrated that i had become so self-conscious about it. so arrogant to think that it mattered. but sh*t! it did.

it matters that on this particular day we march against a disease that mutilates our bodies, chisels at our souls a bit, and often challenges our spirituality and body politics. and then, when the disease is gone we re-invent ourselves. we rebuild. we thoughtfully design ourselves to re-enter the world in a form that we can be proud of. but, yet on this day of awareness. this day of celebration. we veil ourselves in corporate sponsorship.

i'd like to have blast at one of these walks... sing a fight song at the top of my lungs... hear marching bands at the mile markers... see women proud to be in their beautiful new bodies, in their own clothes, in their own individuality... on this day... of all days.

ps. thanks for not wearing one, g.
originally posted here

lucky stars and crescent moons.

"...now if you have a mastectomy- you will get an implant. NO woman leaves my o.r. without reconstruction... (an implant)".

this is a quote from my (female) surgeon in may of 2000 following my diagnosis of ductal carcinoma in-situ/non-invasive breast cancer. she suggested that we move forward with conservative breast surgery (lumpectomy) followed by radiation treatments instead of a mastectomy. she explained that a mastectomy was, in her opinion, an "extreme" alternative in my situation. she left behind a beautiful post-lumpectomy crescent moon shaped scar in the upper/outer quadrant of my right breast. the radiation treatments that followed left behind a shrunken, unnaturally firm breast supported by permanently tender and fragile muscle and ribs.

however, i thank my lucky stars that the unavoidable mastectomy that eventually occurred in my life came four years later- at the hands of another surgeon. an incredible supportive surgeon who removed my moon and pulled my skin tightly and beautifully against my core for me as to say "now and forever i will live within this vessel AS IT IS".

reflections of a historical mystery.

truth is the impetus for the presence of these words. an honest insight into insecurity and/or a curious battle with philosophy and social politics. either way, i am certain that with the eviction of these thoughts from my head i shall be set free. i am certain...

for forty two years (real close to forty three) i have walked the earth with a body designed by nature. two years ago it was re-designed by it as well. in my mind my body is still normal; i had cancer in my right breast, therefore, the breast was removed, therefore, i no longer have cancer or my right breast. this newly designed vessel that i experience life through- and in- serves me beautifully.

then why are there weekday mornings when i pile my favorite weekend blouses and snug t-shirts on the bed after pulling them on and then off after critically analyzing whether or not the fabric is too telling on the right side. too empty. and finally settling for the long sleeved one that is usually too hot for the season but "puffy" enough in the front to not show off anything... at all. and then there's the scarf-o'flauge (see "scarfless in brooklyn" a few posts back for that story).

i know in my heart that breast reconstruction wasn't for me. geeze- i freaked out when i found out that the surgeon who performed my lumpectomy five years ago chose to place three 1/8" long metal staples onto breast tissue and around the perimeter of the excision in order to see the site better on future mammograms. if the thought of these small pieces of metal under my skin bothered me- i can imagine what a mound of anything that would be literally shoved, crammed and forced under my brutally stretched radiated muscle and skin would have done to my personal psychology. and i know in my heart that the $300 prosthesis that lives in my drawer does more damage than good to my integrity. and all of this to avoid looking normal. or would it be- all of this to look normal?

so. why do my words not reflect my feelings when i'm preparing to step out into the world. well, i'm human for one. and live in a world guided, or mis-guided by misunderstood illusions of beauty. so if it takes daily affirmations like "i'm no clown for your enatainment" (in a joe pesci from 'goodfellas' kind of voice) to assimilate or even protect myself from the world around me- then so be it. at the end of the day or more profoundly- at the end of this journey- it's not about what my body looks like- it's how i've taken care of it and respected it. and best of all that i guide it through the days on my own terms.