This story originally appeared on Styleite.
I know that it was just Father’s Day and we’re probably still supposed to be celebrating all things paternal, like getting excited about grill accessories, John Fogerty, saying “I’m getting old,”, and itineraries, but I can’t help it if I just naturally gravitate towards stories centered on strong, fearless mothers who are willing to shoulder the burden of an entire city’s scorn for their children. (I’m not talking about Cersei Lannister, but like…I’m basically talking about Cersei.) #SryNotSry, the heart wants what it wants.
Redwine’s daughter, Violet, was sent home on the last day of her senior year after Central Davidson High School teachers determined her floral dress was a half-inch too short. (Teachers initially contemplated punishments like throwing Violet in the stocks or having her stand on the scaffold while freshmen pelted her with turtlenecks soaked in holy water, but they decided asking her to change was enough.) According to Redwine, her daughter has worn the offending dress to school several times before. Fueled by a hot maternal rage provoked by seeing her progeny hurt and by how great her legs have been looking thanks to those Skechers Shape Ups, this mother swore to lay her vengeance upon the school. How? When Violet graduated this Saturday, her mother donned the Harlot’s Frock, i.e. a Forever 21 belted dress, to the ceremony. A mother who stands by her daughter and won’t let her be shamed by sexist, puritanical standards? Amy Redwine, this joyful feminist ululation is for you.
And to anyone who is about to leave an unnecessarily aggressive comment about the necessity of dress codes and real feminism and Gloria Steinem quote and “boo, you whore”: I am obviously against the hypersexualization and objectification of women. Duh. What I am not here for are patriarchal artifacts like “modesty” and “purity” that police female freedom and sexuality. The onus shouldn’t be on women to guard our “virtue” from men who “can’t help” but be seduced by our supple bare ankles when we’re both supposed to be learning the periodic table. We shouldn’t have to worry about who will or won’t pay actual currency for our cows and milks. I have plenty of others things to think about, like how to secure an equal wage, who is coming after my reproductive rights, and how Dan could’ve been Gossip Girl when Kristen Bell did the voice-overs; I don’t have time to be the the gatekeeper of sexual appropriateness.