Far more unites men and women than divides us, but when it comes to negative stereotypes, women win hands down. Girls are “bossy” and grow into women who “nag”, while boys of all ages are “authoritative” and “natural-born leaders”. When men go out for a drink together it is considered positive social interaction or “networking”; when women get together they “gossip”.
But the stereotype that many women hate the most is “bitch”. Men bitch too, of course, only in their case it is dubbed Machiavellian or they are hailed for their acerbic wit. As the actor Bette Davis once said: “When a man gives his opinion, he’s a man; when a woman gives her opinion, she’s a bitch.”
For centuries, the straight definition of the word bitch was a sexually promiscuous woman. Then, as women became more powerful throughout the 20th century, it expanded to include being duplicitous. Now men call women bitches when they do not get what they want from them. So, if a woman turns a man down for a date, she is a bitch. If she climbs the career ladder faster than him, she is a bitch. If she becomes his boss and turns down one of his ideas — you guessed it — she is a bitch.
Current slang associations underline the fact that, for some, the idea of being called a bitch is just as derogatory as ever. Bikers “ride bitch” (pillion), but only when their own bike is unavailable, of course. Among heroin users, the major artery for injection is known as “your bitch”.
Given all its negative connotations, it is not surprising that women fear being called a bitch. In fact, though, it is something that we should embrace. Why? The American feminist magazine BITCH explains it like this: “When it’s being used as an insult, bitch is an epithet hurled at women who speak their minds, who have opinions and do not shy away from expressing them and who do not sit by and smile uncomfortably if they are bothered or offended. If being an outspoken woman means being a bitch, we will take that as a compliment, thanks.”
Bitching thrills because it flouts manners and speaks the truth. Feminists such as Germaine Greer and the British journalist Julie Burchill excel at the art because they dare to say what they really think of other people. Then there is Joan Rivers, who has made her name savaging other famous women, usually over their appearance. What she says she hates is the dishonesty, the pretence, that they have had no cosmetic surgery. And what could be seen as cruelty is mitigated by her own self-deprecation: “I wish I had a twin so that I could know what I looked like without plastic surgery.”
Many of us are still so constrained by conventional stereotypes of how women should be — selfless, kind, enabling of others, calm and supportive — that the real girl inside gets denied. We take insults on the chin and say nothing. We find it hard to compete or ask for that pay rise because we are not sure we deserve it. We are not supposed to shout or get angry about all the inequities we face as women. We become the bitch when we are not prepared to make do with what we have and when being heard is more important than being liked. That is a liberating feeling. If we fear being labelled as a bitch, we still seek validation from men on their terms rather than ours.
Think of all the fantastic bitches that have gone before us — from Jane Austen, Margot Asquith and Eleanor Roosevelt to the extraordinary verbal rivalry between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Katharine Hepburn, Tallulah Bankhead, Lauren Bacall and Greta Garbo were all strong, inspiring women who fired off as many great lines off-screen as on. “Why am I so good at playing bitches? I think it’s because I’m not a bitch,” said Davis, warming up for the perfect punchline. “Maybe that’s why Miss Crawford always plays ladies.”
Life would be extremely dull without these women or the characters they created, Davis as veteran movie bitch Margo Channing in All About Eve, or Crawford as Crystal in The Women. In literature, there are Emma, the Bingley Sisters and Becky Sharp, female characters who thrill us because they dare to present women as they really are: clever, calculating and verbally dexterous. A healthy malevolence lurks beneath the good-girl facade. Take Mae West, for instance, who wrote most of her own material, as well as being a sex symbol. In her list of 15 “Things I’ll Never Do”, number seven says it all — “Play mother parts, sad parts, dumb parts or a virtuous wife, betrayed or otherwise. I pity weak women, good or bad, but I can’t like them. A woman should be strong either in her goodness or badness.”
In an ideal, ungendered world, everybody would be nicer to each other. All women are human, with a wide range of strengths and weaknesses, just like men. We are just as competitive and ambitious, we get just as angry but we are not supposed to show it. Girls still grow up squeezing themselves into stereotypical “good” girl notions of femininity and when we are not aware of how fettered we are by these stereotypes we veer towards being the kind of weak bitches who put other women down simply to make ourselves feel better. But there is a much stronger bitch inside each one of us just bursting to get out. As Madonna once said, “I’m tough, ambitious and I know what I want. If that makes me a bitch, OK.”
Real women are loud, brave, outspoken, astute and funny, as well as kind, loving and supportive. So let her out girls, for “life’s a bitch and then you die”. You might as well get what you want from it while you can. — Â