Art by yours truly (:

You’ve heard of it, seen it and thought of it. It has its own webpage, twitter account, and many, many followers worldwide, including big names like Cara Delevigne, Rihanna and Miley Cyrus. What am I talking about? The free the nipple movement.

The movement has caused extreme controversy worldwide, and there are split opinions, which is understandable. But… to be fair, we already live in a hyper-sexualized world, in which we get served cleavage for breakfast, booty for lunch and sensual lip-biting for dinner… So how come all of this is okay, just as long as you don’t show nipple?

There are millions of sculptures, paintings, pictures, and even words dedicated to the naked female figure in general and to the nipple in particular, and nobody seems to think that looking at Venus de Milo or at The Birth of Venus is something particularly shocking. Then… why is the picture of a shirtless, braless woman next to a shirtless – also braless – man such a provocative sight? Why do his nipples get to see the light of day, but hers have to be buried away?

To be honest, I have no idea. Of course, I understand that women’s breasts are the only mammal’s breasts to be permanently swollen – partially for reproductive reasons; If you want ALL the reasons, check out Marvin Harris’ Our Kind. I understand that voluptuous breasts are attractive – I mean, who doesn’t love boobs? –, but I also do not think it’s fair that society decides where I can or cannot show my nipples, especially when men all around the globe get to show theirs off.

I’m not saying one should walk into the office poking people’s eyes out, stiff nips in sight. I understand the concept of dress-code, and I understand that not every outfit is appropriate for everywhere. Same goes for shirt-less-ness. I’m just a firm believer in equal opportunity, and feel that whenever a man’s nipples are allowed, so should a woman’s.

That said, I will go pack out my bikini, top included. Because even though I vote for equality of choice, and believe female nipples are no more scandalous than men’s, I also reserve myself the option of hiding mine until my shyness allows otherwise.

Love,

Naya

A few weeks ago, I wrote about stress. About how the world can seem too big, too threatening, and how it’s okay to feel that way.

Even though I’ve turned in my final thesis, I am not feeling particularly relieved just yet. May and June are packed with internship, work and exams, and my summer vacation has been reduced to finding activities in my hometown – not that I’m complaining, but this girl grew up in the South and needs her some vitamin D!.

After the 26th of June I’m an almost free woman – homegirl still gotta work for a living. I’ll be able to enjoy two months of summer job, summer parties and summer weather, getting ready to start it all again in September. What I will be starting in September? Well… I got into the Journalism Master’s Programme! Getting one step closer to my dream of writing for a living, one overestimated college education at a time! Yay!

 So while I practice and prepare for years of writing, all you wonderful people can get ready to read all of my practicing!

I guess what I’m trying to say is: sorry I’ve been absent, but get ready for some content! 🙂

Love,

Naya

Happy international women’s day! <3

I was all ready and set to publish something very different today, until I realized that having a blog and considering myself a woman – and a feminist – meant I almost had to honour this occasion. Many of the more known women I admire have been “warming up” to this day all week and I’m a little sad I wasn’t part of it from the beginning. But that doesn’t stop me from getting on board now!

I may not be as clever as to come up with something ground-breaking as the DearMe movement or the HeForShe idea of the lovely Emma Watson, but I can still be part of it. After all, aren’t all us women implicitly part of it? And of course, all you men are more than welcome as well! After all, it’s not like your day gets as much attention, and I’m all about equality!

I have before mentioned I consider myself a feminist. Yes, a feminist. That doesn’t mean I turn my back on anything feminine or that I’m a man-hater. It simply means that I want equality. Equality not meaning that we all are equal (obviously we’re not), but that we all, regardless of gender, sexual orientation or even race or social class deserve equal opportunity. That regardless of how different we are, we all deserve the same chances.

A while ago, I talked to some friends about this issue. How still so many women struggle with different salaries, status in the work place or even with being considered “bossy” when playing a leading role in society. They considered it a minor issue, that “we’ve already come so far” and that “it’s really not that bad anymore, especially compared to other places”. They saw no need for feminism in the modern, “1^st” world anymore.

At the time, I wondered whether I had become obsessed, and that maybe people not rooting for feminism anymore meant it wasn’t needed, and that that was a good thing. Then, I took a look at some salary statistics and other numbers of the kind.

Of course, we are no longer as bad as in other parts of the world, and I believe a lot of people have come to share Maisie Williams’ opinion: “A lot of the things (Emma Watson spoke about) I just think “It doesn’t bother me”. I know things aren’t perfect, but there are women in the rest of the world who have it far worse.”

I just can’t help but wonder: does that really mean we should shut up and live with it? Does thousands of people dying of hunger also mean we can’t complain about not having eaten today yet? Does the fact that there are so many homeless now mean we cannot say it’s cold inside? Of course not.

Things aren’t perfect. They aren’t perfect for women here or elsewhere, just as they aren’t perfect for men, for different races or for different social classes, and that’s not okay. For any of them.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: of course we’ve come a long way in the western world, both in gender equality, gender roles and overall equal opportunity, but there’s still so much more that needs to be done. So much more that can be done, regardless of where in the world we are talking about.

So no: never just give up. You’re allowed to make your own situation better, regardless of how bad others have it.

Love,

Naya

I’ve never been a fan of catcalling. So few of us are, I guess. I believe street harassment in general is a serious issue, and it makes me feel weak and unsafe to know my body is being sexualized and judged because of the way I dress, walk or simply look.

I grew up in Spain, and catcalling there is part of your every-day life. As soon as I reached that age of “OH GOD what the heck is happening to my body?!?”, I also reached the age at which being yelled at down the street is perfectly okay.

Not exactly your ideal scenario, attracting so much attention when awkward is already part of your day-to-day life as a teenager – with your limbs and body growing in weird, uncoordinated ways and all that. But what are you going to do, right?

The worst part is that I have experienced people actually getting mad because I refused to acknowledge their callings. No: it is not a compliment; and no: me walking within 50 meters of you does not give you the right to comment on my appearance. If you absolutely want to tell someone how much they’ve caught your eye, go up to them and tell them, yet respect their right to not want to listen.

Because, to be honest, I’d love to get to know someone whose line was “You’re prettier than a new tractor” – not kidding here, it was yelled to a friend of mine outside a bakery. Or that one person who had the whit to come up with “If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINE-apple”. I mean, where do they get these ideas? The best I can come up with is “If you were a potato, you’d be a good potato”!

I guess what I’m trying to say is… don’t catcall. It makes us feel uncomfortable, unsafe and self-conscious. If you really just must let that person know, then walk up to them, and explain yourself. Who knows, you guys might even end up getting a cup of coffee instead of her just running in the other direction!

Love,

Naya

I am currently puppy-sitting. Adorable Coda – the fluffy one featured in the picture – has been in my life for quite a while. He is big, blonde and beautiful, and he made sure the road to my heart was paved with paw prints, which results in me puppy-sitting every once in a while.

Puppy-sitting means I am in a big house, all alone with the exception of my cuddle/protection device – read: big-ass fuzzy Coda-pups. Now, this might not seem like a big deal to most of you, especially to those of you who live alone, but to me, it’s exciting.

Why? Lemme tell you! It has been roughly a year since I moved in with one of my best friends, and thenin with my lovely permanent roommate – aka mah boyfriend, which means I have not been officially alone in a house/apartment for equally long. Not only that, but due to our current/almost-non-existent work schedule mixed with us being in exam season, le boyfriend and I have been home pretty much 24/7, with the exception of a few hours here and there.

And what does that mean? That means I haven’t gotten to do any of the weird shit you do when you’re alone and/or think no one is watching, and I am looking forward to every single little thing. Oh, you want examples? Well Imma gonna give you that too, dear reader!

Hence here it is: Naya’s list of fun but weird shit to do when you’re alone!

• Dance like no one is watching *wink!*. No music? Well… does it matter? Bust out your best moves, feel sexy, quirky and have fun with it! Not single? Not a lady? Don’t matter: work that Single Ladies like you own it!
• Put on some music, and sing. Go big or go home, aka crank up that volume until your whale-call of a voice is masked by the angelical voice of everyone on your embarrassing playlist.
• On that same note, try sing-narrating stuff that you do. Sound weird? Maybe, but you’ll be happy when you realize how much more entertaining I just made your dishwashing later. You’re welcome.
• Try out weird hair/clothes/make-up combos. Pinterest is your friend, and you’ll be surprised at how many of these combos actually kinda look cute on you. FYI, 50% of my outfits come from getting weird and playing dress-up with myself.
• Don’t be afraid to explore new comfy positions and places to sit/lay around your house. Be it to read, watch something or just sit on your phone, you might find out that “legs up lying in the corner of the living room” is actually a nice place to scroll on your social media.

And there you have it! Most of the shit I do while I’m alone and certain that my self is going to stay by herself!

Love,

Naya

Social media. We got it, we use it, we love it – though some more than others, and some more secretly than others. I mean, you wouldn’t want ANYONE to actually think you spend time on Facebook, or worrying about how many followers you have on Instagram/Twitter/*Insert new website that the cool kids keep up with but I haven’t heard of yet*.

Now I’ll be honest: I have a true love-hate relationship with social media. The kind that only fast-food lovers and people with personal trainers will get.

On the one hand, it’s this magical place in which I can snoop around in all of my friends’ – and also my “friends’” – lives, find out how fabulous my favourite artists/celebrities still look, that they’re only human, and what I have to do to look just like them all in one place! AND from the comfort of my own pyjamas and living room! What’s that? It doesn’t even stop there? You can also get news, information and just random facts about virtually anything. If you “follow” the right, trendy, up-to-the-minute people and sites, that is.

On the other hand… all of these wonders and this (almost) unlimited knowledge come with a side effect. You know how you like to openly judge everything you read, quietly sipping your morning coffee while shaking your head and going “tsk tsk tsk”, just thinking of how you could have made that status update just SO much better/funnier/more interesting? Well… I am TERRIFIED of that judgement. The rule is, if I do it, there is a huge chance everyone else does it to me.

As a result, I overthink everything I post, and, as the grammar-Nazi that I – proudly – am, I am particularly petrified of ever making a typo or spelling mistake. I mean, what will people think of me? How will I ever become a writer if I can’t even keep up my grammar and spelling?

I realize this may sound insane. Okay, I realize this is insane… a Facebook-status update will obviously not doom my career as a writer… right?

Love,

Naya

P.S.: Don’t forget to like, share, follow… all that social media jazz that makes me oh-so happy! Also, please don’t tell me if I made a typo in this post. I’ll probably already know, and will have crawled under my duvet worrying about the future, because my life no longer makes sense.

2015 is almost here! O already here, depending on when you read this.

It seems like only yesterday I got extremely excited about the last night of the year. 7-year-old me dressed up in the shiniest gown, allowed to wear lip-gloss like the big girls, and my mother changing all the clocks so that we could be in bed by 10, but still celebrate with “champagne” – the sugary raspberry kind – and kisses and good wishes for everyone.

It also seems like only yesterday I set unrealistic after unlikely self-improvement goals for the New Year. You know what I’m talking about… that long, LONG list of unfulfilled resolutions! “I will exercise every week-day” (yeah, right!), “I’ll fit into the jeans, those from 7^th grade” (you’re not 13 anymore, and that’s okay), “I won’t eat junk food” (you enjoy it, why not?), “I’ll work SO hard on ALL my school assignments, even the optional ones”, “I’m going to learn how to speak Italian” (or Mandarin, or Japanese… I’ve been through a few)… the list goes on and on, and on… and I’ve had it with not making it!

As I did not want yet another year of feeling guilty when I skip the gym or procrastinate, I’ve made a list of Realistic New Year’s resolutions, from me to me – thank you, me! – and to all you guys. The kind of list that promises self-improvement and a better you, just not all at once, not all just yet, and none that take too much time or effort – ‘cause ain’t nobody got time for that!

And here it is! My list of Realistic New Year’s Resolutions:

• Get in shape. Not Gerard-Butler-in-300 shape, but more of a I-can-take-the-stairs-without-losing-my-breath type of deal.
• Reduce junk food (homemade burgers and meals without greens do count as junk, and you know it!) to about once a week.
• Go for a walk on less-busy days… aka get out of the house a little; fresh air is good for ya!
• Stop spending money on low-quality crap that you’ll have to replace soon anyways. Save up, get the good stuff and thank me later! And yes, paperback editions of books count!
• Do one thing at a time, and finish what you start. Now, this may seem like a common-sense type of deal, but… as a girl who wants to do everything, and wants it done right this instant, it’s a big deal, and I need to reduce mah stress!
• To. The. Dentist. Again, common sense… “But there’s just so many, much prettier things you could spend your money on”. Shut up, brain! Yes, there are, but none of them will look or feel as pretty if you run around with toothache and a smile that scares children!
• Sleep enough, but not too much. Losing days because “the bed is just oh-so-cosy” and “do I really need to do that now?” is no longer an acceptable excuse!

There you have it! I feel like I can accomplish most of these, and feel confident in my Resolutions. Yet if all else fails, I can just focus on the goal we all should have, which is to write 2015 instead of 2014! You can of course decide to copy this list, get inspired by it, or simply frown upon me because you find it silly! No matter what, I wish you all a great 2014!!

I am off to get prematurely excited about the last night of the year, 21-year-old me dressed in my shiniest gown, wearing lip-gloss like the big girls… only this time I will celebrate at midnight, with real bubbles!

Love,

Naya