What’s that they say about arguing on the internet? Even if you win, you’re still a misogynist pig with woman-hating issues stemming from childhood?
Something like that. In any case, I was labeled such (and worse) by a somewhat rabid (not ‘hysterical’; that would be sexist) wine person called Sarah May Grunwald when I refused to be mortally offended by the photograph to the right, which appears on the website ‘Orange Wine Festival’ under the caption, ‘Orange Is hot’.
Now, to be clear, it’s not an advertisement for the festival; it’s a photograph posted to the site, and according to the site administrator, by a woman.
As you notice, it is a customer at last year’s fest being served a glass of wine whilst clad in a low-cut blouse which, when photographed from the perspective of a ceiling fan, displays a remarkable visage of über-boober.
Grunwald, a ‘female winelover’ [sic], had her Twin Xs so infuriated by this image that she not only sent a nasty-gram to the festival calling it ‘gross and disgusting’ (and, adding an odd insult to injury, ‘unoriginal’) she reposted it to #winelover [sic] using her own caption: ‘Pigs’.
Which—considering it is exactly what similarly-named wrath-nik Sadie Mae Glutz wrote in Sharon Tate’s blood on the Polanski’s door—happens to be unoriginal.
The assumption is that Ms. Grunwald was offended by the visible acreage of female apocrine gland and not so much by the awful platinum-blonde dye job, although the picture clearly shows more root than rack. I say ‘assumption’, because when I asked directly, I received a non-direct response somewhat clouded by a collection of coarse contumelies capped by the contention that I hate women.
Now—considering I may indeed have tarried an extra ta-ta-second over the picture—that would be the metaphorical equivalent of accusing me, standing awestruck in front of Venus de Milo, of hating art.
I was also accused of having unresolved issues stemming from my teenage years (true, no doubt; among them is a dislike of being accused of being something I ain’t) and, along with my fellow pigs, of being unable to confront this woman in the actual fleshy flesh without a need to immediately skitter to the Men’s Room and relieve myself sexually.
Like Rush Limbaugh—who really is a sexist jizz stain—says, ‘You can’t make this shit up.’
Grunwald, who (incorrectly, apparently) I imagine dressed in a field-gray woolen tunic with an SS Helferin breast insignia, runs a wine tour group called Antiqua and is married, to no great surprise, to a dude named ‘Ettore’ who calls himself ‘the resident gourmand’ and has a Masters degree in pre-Roman bar snacks.
To each her own, but the first snark-free question is:
‘Why would a woman running a company catering to the members of the wine-loving public launch such a venomous, crude and inaccurate public denunciation of a member of the wine-loving public?’
The Larger Question, Of Course, Is…
Is the photograph legitimately sexist? Even if it was posted by a member of the female persuasion? (In which case, the caption would have been more taxonomically correct reading ‘Sows’.)
I suppose you’d first have to provide to me a definition of sexism that does not involve an intention to discriminate or a suggestion that men are inherently, genetically superior to women, or have a genuine reaction to the photo that says to you (as a man), ‘If I attend the Orange Wine Festival I will meet such a vision of voluptuity and live happily ever after nuzzling titanic tiggobitties’ Or to you (as a woman), ‘This picture instills in me anxiety and insecurity and tries to convince me that if I attend the Orange Wine Festival and drink orange wine, any body-image issues I have may be instantly cured’.
Or, to be sexist, does the picture have to simply change your focus from wine to women and schlong?
Remember, the picture was posted by a woman. If I, a crackerhonky from a mostly-white suburban neighborhood, refer to Barack Obama as a ‘nigger’, yeah, in good conscience you can label me racist. If Jay Z, from a rough Bed-Stuy housing project, calls his homies ‘niggers’, is he a racist likewise?
That is a question each honest person must answer internally.
Externally, mine is ‘no’.
And equally externally, if you thereupon accused me of hating black people, my response to you (whether your name is Rush or Etolle or Alfalfa or Sarah Mae Glutzwald) involves a request that you perform an anatomically difficult coital act upon yourself, whether in a public latrine or in the privacy of your own boudoir .
Which, since it requires no adherence to societal stereotypes regarding men and women, no suggestion that one is better than the other, no pandering to Rush Limbaugh’s mindset, cannot possibly be labeled ‘sexist’.
As I am sure that my five beautiful, intelligent, independent, non-misandrist daughters will agree.