The general physical discomfort from the shit we have to wear.

A man’s formal getup is more or less the same as his casual clothes, just made out of different material. A woman’s, on the other hand, are first built on a foundation of underclothes meant to force our bodies into an unnatural shape, then covered with a dress, nowadays, even in formal contexts, intended to advertise our bodies as sexually desirable, and finished off with a bizarre hair finish, ridiculous heels on our shoes, and a face full of makeup.

The only women I know who seem to just love wearing heels, Spanx, and tight bandage dresses everywhere are the ones that pride themselves on being sexual objects. Otherwise, fuck you if you’re going to tell me you put on a skirt and heels and you felt “liberated”. It’s a fucking prison.

Yet we’re told that if we don’t meet these certain standards, there will be consequences. Sometimes you’re just ignored and end up staying in the same job with no promotion your whole life, because while you might perform your duties very well, who wants to promote a woman who won’t “take care of herself”? Otherwise, you might well be reprimanded for not making enough effort to just be clean and hygienic, but pretty - your workplace probably has a “must appear neat and well-groomed” policy, and while that may just mean “don’t smell too bad and make sure your hair isn’t too greasy” for a man, for a woman, it’s entirely different.

The constant pressure to look, look, look good enough. If you don’t, then if you’re lucky, you’ll just be ignored, like you don’t even exist as a human being. Or people will feel free to point out that you’re not attractive and it’s your fault.