When I received this book in the mail and began to flip through it, my first impression was an overwhelming “oh, shit” feeling. I had agreed to review this serious, probably incredibly dry book on “doing feminism”? Me, one of the most lackluster feminists I know, whose knowledge about the women’s rights movements shamefully begins and ends with Susan B. Anthony? Yes, oh yes, that me had somewhat drunkenly begged to be allowed to write a review of “Girl Zines: Making Media, Doing Feminism.” Well, as a wise man once said, “Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” With that fixed doggedly in mind, I sat my completely unqualified self down and began to read the book.
To my great and delighted surprise, “Girl Zines” was ridiculously intriguing from the beginning. For those of you unfamiliar with zines, wiki or google them straight-away! The zines featured in this book reminded me most of journals, notes, and letters to and from friends. They’re not mainstream, they’re not “neat”, and the content is not edited by some white dude with a tie. The author managed to make clear even to this laywoman the import of zines to feminist work – these are young women just like me who are scribbling, Sharpie-ing, and glittering themselves onto a piece of paper, Xeroxing it, and distributing it. Really? I thought, is it that easy? In the foreword, Andi Zeisler says she’s never felt cool enough for girl zines: sister, I’ve never felt cool enough for feminism. About halfway through the book, Piepmeier offers this quote from Courtney Martin – “ We are not apathetic. What we are…is totally and completely overwhelmed.”
I read that and thought, you bet your ass I am! When it comes to women of different colors? COLOR?? God forbid I come right out and say talking about race makes this cracker crumble! The only thing I think when I open my mouth to talk about feminism in third-world countries is I’M A WHITE GIRL I’M A WHITE GIRL I’M A WHITE GIRL. I gave up on nurturing any riot grrl part of myself the first time I thought I’d offend somebody, and I honestly never felt like I had anything worthy to say. I read this book, and in reading it I found myself feeling pretty fucking empowered.
Making zines doesn’t take training. Making zines, at least the zines I’d make, would be barfing out inner chunks of myself onto the page. The zines featured in the book start conversations, they offend, they open up huge paths of possibility, and what the hell – turns out feminism isn’t scary. Turns out I could offend somebody in MY zine, then maybe she turns around and horrifies somebody in HER zine, and the next thing you know there is a smart, snarky, important conversation happening. Piepmeier says whenever she talks about zines in class, her students inevitably go forth and make their own. If that isn’t testament enough to the power of the media, I don’t know what is.
I loved this book, and I am grateful to the author, and I also really soon need to get internet back at the apartment so I can look up “hegemony” and “pedagogy.” If you’re like me in all of my ignorance, have you a nice search engine nearby while reading this book. I’m still itching to dig further into Girl Zines, with notebook in hand, but I did sign up to review it today so that will have to wait.
At any rate, this newly-empowered fat dyke bitch says buy the book and thank me later. Or thank Alison Piepmeier. Trust us, it’s more than worth it.
