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Meet MIM. MIM is a 35 year-old upper class Los Angeles wife and mother, whose blog recounts her daily travails balancing family life and school (but not a full-time job, lucky her) in a way that's supposed to make her readers shake their heads in wonder and murmur "gosh, I just don't know how she does it." MIM's capably written, occasionally amusing yet mostly tedious blog focuses almost entirely on her misadventures with her husband (named "Husband") and two young children (named "Tod-lar" and "In-fant"), with occasional posts describing the hugeness of her brand new home and why she thinks the answer to curing postpartum depression is spending several hundred dollars on a baby stroller. Like most bloggers, Yr. Correspondent included, it's fairly clear that MIM has an agenda, and that agenda is getting picked up for print publication, in the spirit of Wonkette's Ana Marie Cox and Stephanie Klein. Her oppressively spunky "I can take anything as long as I have a cappuccino in one hand and a gold card in the other!" style of writing would fit perfectly in bookshelves between Sophie Kinsella's interminable Shopaholic series and The Devil Wears Prada. You can almost picture the candy-colored book cover, with a cartoon drawing of a stylishly dressed, perfectly in shape MIM stepping off a cable car and into an awaiting taxi, a smiling baby attached to her hip and a handful of bulging shopping bags hanging from one hand, with a slightly askew caricature of the Golden Gate Bridge behind her.

Perhaps marketing is my call in life, as opposed to blogging. But I digress.

Despite my being a mother and also the target readership, I'm not a fan of that "the baby threw up on my Jimmy Choos!" kind of writing, so MIM's blog most likely would have stayed happily under my radar. That is, until MIM wrote a well-meaning but ultimately wrong-headed post in which she states that altering your appearance, i.e. cutting or dyeing your hair, growing a beard, etc, without consulting your spouse and getting his or her okay first is a serious relationship no-no. Further, putting on a significant amount of weight, say, twenty pounds or more, is not just unsafe for your health and emotional well-being, but also unfair to your spouse, as it renders you no longer the person you were when he or she met you. Thus, this makes you guilty of a sort of false advertising, presenting yourself as something you're really not--in this case, someone who's entirely preoccupied with what your spouse thinks of you, constantly exercising and dieting so that you never waver more than five pounds in either direction from how much you weighed when they first decided they wanted to sleep with you.

Happily, weight is not an issue for MIM, who makes a point of mentioning that, despite having two children in less than two years, she weighs in at a slim 125 pounds. But it is for some of the ladies in the psychology class where she first made this revolutionary statement, many of whom, not surprisingly, called horseshit on it. Yet when MIM explained further to her classmates that weight gain is usually a sign of depression and a lack of self-respect, both of which are even more crueler to inflict upon your spouse than a lumpy, potato chip crumb-speckled ass, suddenly they were all nodding in agreement, as were many of MIM's blog readers, the majority of whom fawn over her writing as if each word was a pearl of wisdom falling from the sky like God's own tears.

One of MIM's acolytes is "L." Inspired by MIM's "false advertising" post, "L." goes on to write a depressing account of her own struggle with putting on weight after marriage. Her husband refuses to take her to company functions, and her male friends tell her that she's all but obligated to lose weight, since "...you don`t look anywhere near as good with all this extra weight. It`s natural that this bothers your husband, because it`s really important to guys to have wives who look good." "L."'s current weight? A scale-punishing 155 pounds. Unless she is under five feet tall, she is at best slightly overweight, and probably wears somewhere between a size 12 and a size 14 in clothes, the same size as the average American woman.

I really want to believe that MIM, who, when I complained about her post at Pandagon, told me directly that I should not judge people according to what they write in their blogs1, did not mean to imply that women (and men, really) with weight problems should not just be concerned with their own physical and mental issues, but the fact that their spouses probably don't want to fuck them anymore, and perhaps knowing that can motivate one to get in shape faster. In fact, I'm sure she didn't, because a day or so later she wrote a defensive, mostly self-serving rebuttal of sorts, bringing forth a whole new slew of "Oh, MIM, you're brilliant and only your regular readers understand what you meant, I love you!" ass-kissing2. However, what sticks in the craw from the original post is that use of the phrase "false advertising." This seems to be a somewhat creepy suggestion that the perfect spouse will never divert from the image he or she created that originally attracted his or her partner, whether that means staying the same weight, never cutting more than an inch of hair off, or, if you're a man, growing a beard. Doing so means that you're deceiving your spouse, ruining the image, pulling a rubber mask off to reveal the horrible real you underneath, like a villain in some old Hitchcock film.

The post reminds me in an odd way to the now semi-infamous Men's Health article, written by a woman, that talks about all the secrets we supposedly keep from men. The article ludicrously suggests that grown men don't know that women grow hair on their bodies, and yet, is it really all that far from MIM's post, which seems to suggest that men don't seem to realize that the woman they fall in love with is going to look a little different five, ten, twenty years down the line? She may not necessarily be fatter, but she'll be wrinkled, grayer, less fit, less sexually desirable. But of course, so will he. Yet, while MIM does vaguely suggest that she expects the same sort of obsession with awareness of appearance from her husband, it really seems to be more of a wifely duty to keep oneself young, thin, and fuckable forever, to prove how much you really love him. Of course, it becomes a feminist statement when MIM declares that it's not her husband who wants this, but something she's thought all along, and women who don't agree are really angry at themselves and not interested in a healthy fulfilling relationship with their partners.

Originally found through Pandagon, who found it through I Blame the Patriarchy, and so on and so on and scooby dooby doo..

1. A fair statement, given I'm sure she's not really as shallow and superficial a twit in real life as she comes off in her blog.

2. Reading MIM's blog and its comments brings to mind visions of sitting in a high school cafeteria, watching the most popular girl in school file her nails and brag about her date with the quarterback, while a crowd of pimple-faced Carrie White types sit at her feet adoringly. God, I love the internet.

Comments

[Dee Love]

I've been keeping up on the MIMness for a bit now, as I have an intense curiosity around Chicklit and the culture it has spawned. Especially the uptight-manhattenite-jewess-with-familial-money-and-too-much-time-on-her-hands-so-she-decides-to-write-a-book genre, and the housewives that embrace it.

It's funny that in the day and age of this kind of obnoxious chicklit and personal memoir writing that follows "oh dear, i left my prada clutch in the cab and now I can't pay for the gourmet takeout I ordered for dinner tonight because i never bothered learning how to cook and yet i still adhere to those bizarre notions of the 50s Good Housekeeping wife, reveling in the 19th century I must wear my husband's wealth ideology, and yet longing for a ripped 25 year old pool boy to fuck me while my husband is busy being a corporate litigator" that no one has remotely ever mentioned that it was Dorothy Parker that started this whole shebang. Maybe she's just too damn literary? Which really, says a lot.

I'm pretty sure that MIM is as superficial in her real life. Most people are pretty much a reflection of their blog, and honestly, I've read her shit, she's not good enough of a writer to have crafted that tight of a persona. Nope. She's a twit. And the people that love her are the Carrie White's that adore her.

Wait till they make a movie about her life. Oh wait, there are already 20 in the works. Shit.

[L.]

Howdy there. You don`t know me, I don`t know you. I am "L.," whose husband didn`t bring me to his office Christmas party. I am utterly fascinated to see how far and wide my little snippet of a post has traveled.

For the record, my husband is Japanese, and wives usually aren`t invited to Japanese office parties. I didn`t include much background in my post, because regular readers of my blog know this, and know my family. I can understand why the thousands of strangers reading that one post are now heaping scorn on my husband, and I agree that based only on what I wrote there, he deserves it. In retrospect, though, I wish I had provided more context.
I invite you to read my two follow-up posts on the weight issue. Or, if you`re not interested, by all means -- don`t.

[L.]

(P.S. Can you really call me MIM`s "acolyte" when I openly disagreed with her in the comments of her "False Advertising" post?)

[Helen]

For the record, my husband is Japanese, and wives usually aren`t invited to Japanese office parties. I didn`t include much background in my post, because regular readers of my blog know this, and know my family. I can understand why the thousands of strangers reading that one post are now heaping scorn on my husband, and I agree that based only on what I wrote there, he deserves it. In retrospect, though, I wish I had provided more context.

So, although you presumably bend over backwards to assimilate with his culture, he will not go the other way to learn some things from yours? Like treating you as more of an equal?

(Notice I used the qualifier "more of". I'm not under the delusion that Western society is a nirvana of marital equality. But most western men don't hide their wives when they gain weight.

Also, if he didn't take you to the office party because wives aren't invited, why did you make it look as if he did so because of your weight? That was the definite impression I and others got from it.

[L.]

Helen, whatever gave you the idea I "bend over backwards to assimilate with his culture?" If I did, would I expect to go to a party to which I wasn`t invited?

[L.]

Helen, this was on top of the post following what was apparently the only one you read:

UPDATE: Last night, after like the 500th hit on yesterday`s post, I asked Hub, point blank, "Did you not want me at your office Christmas party because of the way I look?" and he looked up wearily and said, "No -- it`s because when you drink, you have a big mouth!" And then he said, "Um, why are you asking me this now?" Oh, no reason --- there`s just a bunch of people on the Internet now who hate you because of something your big-mouthed wife said about you on her blog...

[Gena]

(P.S. Can you really call me MIM`s "acolyte" when I openly disagreed with her in the comments of her "False Advertising" post?)

I apologize, that was blatant jumping to conclusions on my part. I do appreciate you directing me to the other posts in which you shed more light on your relationship, and I will definitely read them. For the record, I found your single post to be far more compelling reading, not to mention your responses, both here and at Pandagon have shown a remarkable level of thoughtfulness and maturity, especially considering how quite a few people (myself included) have inadvertently lifted you up as some sort of poster child for why MIM's post is so aggravating. I look forward to reading more of your blog.

[MIM]

Jesus. You can't even get the easy facts right. I don't live in San Francisco.

And don't even pretend to think you know me for a minute. How fucking abursd to think you KNOW who someone is based on a blog. People are far more complex than that.

[Gena]

And don't even pretend to think you know me for a minute.

When did I see that I knew you? Yesterday was the very first time I've ever read your blog. And you're right, you can only ascertain so much about someone from reading their blog. I ascertained that you're shallow and superficial. Am I wrong? Could be. I'm sure you've made plenty of assumptions about me, such as thinking that because I wrote this I'm really angry at myself. Are you wrong? Could be. Who's to say who's right? That's what makes the internet such a delight.

Apologies, I misread where you said you grew up in San Francisco as you currently live there. I'll correct them post-haste.

[Gena]

Wow, shame on me for those typos there. I've been at work for almost ten hours straight.

[L.]

All superficial people think a great deal about appearances, but not all people who think a great deal about appearances are superficial. I don`t always agree with MIM, but she is very honest in describing her own situation and feelings, which is why I read her blog.

I`m actually the one who lives in San Francisco. But my kids aren`t babies, I stay far away from the cable cars (and the GG bridge, if I can help it), and I`m actually a refugee from the MSM, not an aspirant.

[chris]

Please, for the love of all that is good in the world, ignore this MIM person. Maybe she'll go away.

You're pretty funny, by the way.

[inkstains]

Absolutely intoxicating. Thank you.

There are more responses at our blog collective.

[Barbiturate Cat]

Wow...that's just...that's just fucking sad.

Her first post speaks like someone who's never had to deal first hand with a mental illness like depression. When my husband was depressed, he didn't gain weight and I sure as hell didn't think "Gee honey, I'm just not attracted to you because you're all mopey, tee-hee! Why don't ya buck up, soldier, and get back that self-esteem?" And I know damn well when I was depressed [both of us suffer from anxiety disorders/chemical imbalances], his main concern wasn't my weight or appearance. What kind of marriages are these people in, where their first concern is about the weight gain? Do they not even stop to care that if their spouse IS depressed, that maybe they...I don't know, need HELP? Support? Love and understanding? God no, I guess that's stupid of me to think that. The best way to deal with a depressed person is to tell them they're gaining weight.

I feel sorry for these women, who think depression is about "self esteem", or whatever sorry bullshit they were spouting. But hey, I guess it's really hard to be depressed when all you think about is Prada handbags or what deliciously self-serving and air-headed blog posts they will write next.

[littlem]

"Ooooo - sha - sha ...."

You do realize, of course, that the searing sarcasm you exhibit is at least as felonious in a female as "Hollywood fat" in patriarchal eyes.

OT, hinted at but seemingly not parsed (I'm not even going to get into the book deal thing b/c you just slayed with every sly suggestion), is the issue of WHY these posts/comments appear to have plucked several nerves - classism and terminology issues ("advertising", anyone?) aside, even.

I'm just going to suggest that everyone (who hasn't) just THINK about it.

Led here by the Pandagon crew (& Twisty). I am oozing syntax envy and demand to be put on your mailing list should you consider word-sculpting for clients.

[margalit]

I've been reading Mim for quite some time now, and although I completely disagree with her false advertising post and think she's portrayed herself as a shallow twit, she occasionally, and by that I mean maybe 1:10 posts, has something of value to say. But the problem with Mim is, she's part of this little circle of cool hip left coast mommy bloggers and no matter what one of them says or does, they all jump to the rescue and circle the wagons around their blogging bitch. It's so sad. I don't think one of these bloggers has a clue what it means to think for themselves, so when Mim posts something so provocative and SHALLOW and pathetic, they're all gonna nod "yup, Mim, you got it right" because they're just as shallow and pathetic. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You know she's carrying her cute little handbag and wearing fancy shoes and driving her passat around LA with the best car seat and the coolest stroller and the most adorable baby clothes because after all, appearance is what matters most to her. She lives in LA. What can you expect?

[Gena]

But the problem with Mim is, she's part of this little circle of cool hip left coast mommy bloggers and no matter what one of them says or does, they all jump to the rescue and circle the wagons around their blogging bitch.

Yeah, that's why it reminds me a lot of high school. If you disagree with something the princess says, it's really just because you're jealous. I'll agree that the cracks a few folks made about her hair and the picture on her blog were definitely childish and uncalled for, but I don't buy that saying her post smacked of superiority and showed a stunning lack of knowledge and insight when it comes to depression is really just misdirected anger and jealousy over her perfect life.

[aldahlia]

Oh, no. She actually hit "you guys are just jealous" mode?

[littlem]

Yah. Officially high school. There's some pack behavior survivalist analysis in there somewhere.

[flawedplan]

I appreciate your analysis.
I flipped my wig reading her post, feeling that MIM was expressing passive-aggressive misogyny, a judgment that had me wondering if I was being unfair to the princess or triggered by my own unexamined bullshit...I did interpret covert hostility in her post, this is something I don't understand, but it does need to be seen for what it is.

[Karibelle]

Heaven forbid people should be judged by the words they write in their blogs. Perhaps we should all judge people by the width of their asses like MIM does.

Ya gotta love it when someone fires up a shit-storm and then shuts down the comments on her blog because she does not want to deal with other peoples' shit. Classic.