Vernon's book cover. Photo: Hodder and Stoughton.
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Polly Vernon’s Hot Feminist attacks cartoonish, bra-burning caricatures of feminism

Feminists: it’s OK to be hot. But you knew that already, right? 

Last week, I found myself shrinking uncomfortably in my chair as women around me chanted: “I AM HOT”.  I was at the Grazia launch party for Hot Feminist, a book authored by their star columnist Polly Vernon. There was hair-braiding, and questions from the audience about why “women attack other women more than men do”. Vernon was joined by Telegraph journalist Bryony Gordon, who remarked at one point that once the book was released, “I thought the feminists would come and attack you for liking the way you look”.

Both the event, and the book itself, have left me feeling confused. Because back in the Nineties, Naomi Wolf demanded from the patriarchy “the choice to do whatever we want with our faces and bodies without being punished”. And, now, a mere twenty years later, Vernon is begging the same of feminists, through a book her publishers call a “brave new perspective on feminism” which dismisses the “rules on ‘good’ feminism”. No more bra burning! No more body hair! Let us have pink back!

Are you confused yet? Did you misplace your rulebook? Because I, for one, never got the memo. I’ve never thought very hard about shaving, or about wearing high heels. I don’t think anyone should be forced to wear them, but then I don’t think anyone should be forced not to, either. The collective reaction to the book among women I know was nonplussed: did we miss some feminist-wide missive about body hair? Are there anti-hotness rules we don’t know about?

Vernon clearly did receive the memo, or thinks she did. She starts the book by outlining her passions for fashion and beauty, then remarks:

I know this isn’t strictly in the rules. Classic feminism is a bit ‘whoa’ about all of the above. A bit ‘bleurgh’, and ‘nah’, and ‘tut’ and ‘srsly?’ about looks-oriented thinking.

As you might have guessed, those quotes aren't attributed to anyone. From here on out, the book continues on this theme: it takes on a cartoonish, unattributed, bra-burning caricature of feminism and sets Vernon’s (sometimes silly, but largely commonsensical) points at odds with it. 

The book suffers, too, from inconsistencies in its argument. Vernon is, by her own account, trying to clear out the judginess from feminism and society; to remove the “fear of getting it wrong”. Yet she can’t seem to resist jumping on actions she doesn’t deem feminist or acceptable. Selfies, for example, are bad: “only sadness and madness can possibly result”, she remarks. In fact, almost every other chapter is laid out as a set of rules on fashion, or on what to call your partner (Vernon calls hers the “man in my flat”).

She devotes several pages to poking holes in “whataboutery”, whereby people lambast your focus on Page 3 or rape culture on the basis that people are having a terrible time in Syria, or that wars exist. Yet when I saw her speak, she criticised the Everyday Sexism project for carping on about an issue she sees as unimportant – she’s a fan of catcalling, as long as the man doing it is attractive enough. Then, in the book, she frames the No More Page 3 campaign as a bit silly, compared to her own feminist priorities. Oh, the irony. 

At times, lending an ear to Vernon’s complaints feels charitable, a like nodding along while someone lectures you about men’s rights or the economic struggle of very rich people. Vernon is not a particularly oppressed person: she is a woman with the body, money and choices to conform to a certain stereotype of female appearance, and at some points in her life has felt victimised for it.

To discount her argument on the basis that, for example, feminism’s white privilege is a more pressing problem, would be to fall into the trap of “whataboutery”. I’m happy to believe there are those out there who strongly relate to what Vernon says about feminism’s apparently anti-hot agenda. But the book seems aimed at a very niche group who feel victimised by outdated feminist ideas which are no longer widespread, if they ever were in the first place. 

Beyond that, the book is harmless, and occasionally funny and clever. A section on WAGs, for example, makes the good point that being interested in a group of women for their fashion and lifestyle is no less silly than watching men kicking a ball around. Vernon has a no-nonsense approach to abortion and governmental attempts to limit it, and could effectively take on politicians on issues like this with her sharp tongue.

Yet the endless jibes at what Vernon calls “trad” or “classic” feminism left me exhausted. Her stance implies that we’ll forever ping-pong between Wolfs and Vernons, without ever settling on the idea that people can dress and be a feminist in whichever way they choose.  Vernon and I, and, I think, most feminists, do agree on this – but you don’t sell books by agreeing with people, so it was necessary for Vernon conjure up a snaggle-toothed feminist demon as her opponent.

As we all know by now, there are as many versions of feminism as there are women. But if this is Vernon’s broader point, then she contradicts it in her very form, by calling what would be better written as a straight memoir “Hot Feminist”, a title which squashes a large, amorphous idea about equality into stilettos, and then markets it. 

Barbara Speed is comment editor at the i, and was technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman, and a staff writer at CityMetric.

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What Labour MPs who want to elect the shadow cabinet are forgetting

The idea is to push Jeremy Corbyn to build an ideologically broad team, but it distracts from the real hurdle – management.

Labour MPs who have been critical of Jeremy Corbyn are pushing to vote for shadow cabinet members – rather than having all the posts appointed by the leader.

Most of the parliamentary Labour party who are not Corbyn loyalists believe this should be the “olive branch” he offers them, in order to put his recent words about “unity” and “wiping the slate clean” into action.

Corbyn and his allies have refused to consider such an idea outside of a “wider” democratisation of the party – saying that Labour members should also get a say in who’s on the frontbench. It’s also thought Corbyn is reluctant due to the shadow cabinet having three representatives on the National Executive Committee. He wouldn’t want his opponents voting for those, tipping the balance of the Committee back towards centrists.

Shadow cabinet elections were a longstanding convention for Labour in opposition until Ed Miliband urged the party to vote against them in 2011. Labour MPs on different wings of the party believe a return to the system would avoid Labour’s frontbench being populated solely by Corbyn’s ideological wing.

But there is a complication here (aside from the idea of a party leader having to run an effective opposition with their opponents in key shadow cabinet positions).

Proponents of shadow cabinet elections say they would help to make Labour a broad church. But really they could put those in the “make-it-work” camp who initially helped form Corbyn’s team in a difficult position. Initially conciliatory MPs like Thangam Debonnaire and Heidi Alexander have since left their posts, revealing frustration more at Corbyn’s management style than policy direction. Chi Onwurah MP, who remains a shadow minister, has also expressed such concerns.

One senior Labour MP points out that the problem with shadow cabinet elections lies in those who left Corbyn’s shadow cabinet but had wanted to cooperate – not in bringing ideological opponents into the fold.

“There were lots of people on his team who actually liked Jeremy, and wanted to make policy with him,” they tell me. “And many of them eventually felt they had to leave because of how difficult it was to work with him. They wanted to stay but couldn’t. If people like that couldn’t stay, will they go back? It will be much harder for him to show them he can work differently.”

One of the “make-it-work” faction voices their concern about returning to the shadow cabinet via elections for this reason. “A lot of us [who left] are still really interested in our policy areas and would be happy to help if they asked,” they say. “But it was too difficult to be taken seriously when you were actually in those shadow cabinet meetings.”

My source describes a non-collegiate approach in meetings around the shadow cabinet table, where Corbyn would read out pre-written opening statements and responses when they delivered their ideas. “It was like he wasn’t really listening.”

The plan to reintroduce shadow cabinet elections barely left the ground in a meeting of Labour’s National Executive Committee on Saturday night, on the eve of Labour conference.

This is in spite of Labour MPs urging the NEC to make a decision on the matter soon. Jon Ashworth, an NEC member and shadow minister, told me shortly after Corbyn’s victory speech that this would be “a good way of bringing people back” in to the team, and was determined to “get some resolution on the issue” soon.

It doesn’t look like we’ll get that yet. But for some who have already tried serving on the frontbench, it’s a distraction from what is for them a management – rather than an ideological – problem.

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.