To-do list for girls in a post Hugh Hefner world

Stop tanning-bed tanning. See a dermatologist.

For seven days and seven nights, stand naked in front of a mirror and say, “This body is the shit. Here’s a list of reasons why.” List the reasons why.

Read Gloria Steinem.

Unfollow, better yet just unfriend, the boys you grew up with who, upon his death, called Hugh Hefner their favorite person ever, an American hero, the magnificent maker of titty pics, titties that didn’t belong to him. Remember not to hate them too much. They grew up around grown men who thought banging a teen was the ideal old-guy thing to do. How did you think they were going to turn out?

Stop making excuses for them.

Promise to stop taking your anger at their stupidity out on your own body—blackout drinking, smoking, kneeling in the pews.

Stop calling them titties unless it’s, like, a bedroom thing you’re into.

Be angry. You’re allowed. As long as you want.

Learn to know when it stops being a want.

Run errands without makeup on.

Support feminist owned businesses.

Know every photo is Photoshopped.

Tell a little girl in your life something she did with her body non-sexually was cool as fuck.

Tell a little boy in your life he doesn’t have to be ashamed of who he’s attracted to.

Tell a teen boy in your life how to get consent at a kegger.

Tell a grown boy in your life you’re sorry he had to learn everything from porn.

Tell a grown girl the same.

Turn your bush hair into gold. Eat the wrinkled elfin man who wants to claim you and your first born.


Read Roxane Gay.

Say something in the meeting today.

Brainstorm your next big project. Don’t apologize to yourself for not doing it sooner.

Don’t encourage your daughter’s father to intimidate the men or women she wants to date. Especially if he doesn’t do the same for your son.

Call your favorite girlfriend. Talk about something other than sex and love and your role in other people’s lives at least once in your conversation.

Ask for a raise.

Start a feminist meetup, art project, book, whatever.

Add the adductor machine to your workout. Choke out the patriarchy with your strong ass thighs.

“When it comes down to it, I let people think what they want. And if they care enough to bother with what I do, I already know I’m better than them.”

Move to the front of the concert.

Read about race in America.

Make something. Don’t apologize for it.

Ask for head.

Invest a higher percentage from your paycheck into your 401K.

Give your niece a book about exceptional women in history. Give your nephew a million and one hugs.

Read Samantha Irby.

Read Rachel Wiley.

Read Teen Vogue. For the articles.


Call your representative.

Call out your local pervert in power.

Take your birth control as prescribed by your doctor.

Stop kissing frogs and thinking something’s wrong with you when you don’t feel like a princess afterward. Stop kissing frogs and thinking something’s wrong with them when they’re not perfect afterward. Consider why you are kissing frogs.

Save a bunny.

Support female athletes.

Thank a woman who helped you at work.

Tell a new mother her body still belongs to her. Do something to help out so she can do whatever she needs to believe it.

Unfollow people who make you feel worthless.

Learn about how grown men groom young girls. Recognize it. Stop it.

Defend your emotions. Know they make you smarter, not hysterical.

Lift others up once you’ve proven you can carry yourself.

Self-respect is not selfish—martyrdom is.

Get paid.

Be who you say you are.

Forgive yourself for all the times you’ve disgusted yourself.

Talk to your children about porn. Tell them that’s not really what sex is like.

Fucking recycle.

Make them do more than whistle before you give them attention. You are not a child. You are not a dog.

Get your head out of the sand. You are not an ostrich.

Stop flirting at work.

Split the weight. Share the load. Fair partner. Don’t make yourself less than so you’re easier to carry.

Ensure your equal partnership is legally recognized.

Fight your local high school dress code.

Support your local girl band.

“Courage is more exhilarating than fear and in the long run it is easier. We do not have to become heroes overnight. Just a step at a time, meeting each thing that comes up, seeing it is not as dreadful as it appeared, discovering we have the strength to stare it down.”

Define your own mistakes. Stop asking for advice you already know, validation you do not need.

Stop saying the word pussy as if softness is a shame.

Learn correct punctuation just to fuck with the trolls.

Remember said trolls eat swamp water for dinner and can’t touch you without your consent. Stop trying to answer their worthless riddles.

Raise your daughters and your sons the same way.

Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid.

Fuck ‘em.

Read Rebecca Solnit.

Read Kate Chopin.

Learn a new skill.

Do not define yourself by motherhood alone.

Fight boy and male rape too.

Ask questions even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.

Create your own style of and rules for femininity. Ignore the person who tells you not to wear heels as much as you ignore the person who tells you not to wear pants.

Stop demeaning other women by calling them basic. Call out their unchecked privilege instead. Be more specific.

Respect that your girls can be wrong sometimes. You can be too.

WWBD. What Would Bey Do.

Get in formation.

Fists up.

Knee down.

Get the facts.

Refuse someone else’s shame for your refusal to stay neutral.

Don’t be complicit in your own destruction.

Don’t be complicit in another women’s destruction.

Step up. Take the lead. Self-promote.

Think about the kids you know. Think about how much you love them because they are different from one another. Apply that same logic to yourself.

Stop judging other people’s consenting sexual choices. Drunk and drugged is not consent.

Prostitution is rarely consent.

Constantly work to recognize your own double standards, prejudices and expectations. You have them too.

Be gentle to those who are trying. This includes yourself.

Pose nude only with a contract. Make sure that contract gives you control of the content.

Don’t trust an old dude in a silken smoking robe who wants to give you Quaaludes for the work-required office orgy.

Desexualize little girls.

Be you. Not her.

Be you. Not “us.”

Be you. Not him.

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