THE ABOVE COMIC IS INTENDED TO INSPIRE/PROVOKE YOU INTO SUBMITTING SOMETHING TO MY MAGAZINE. (The deadline is next Tuesday—just six days away!) THE SAME GOES FOR THIS ENTRY:

I’ve been watching a lot of Mad Men lately, while working on my Div III. There’s a lot I like about the show. All three of the main female characters are interesting and more than one-dimensional. Though each has her “stereotype” (Betty’s the housewife, Joan’s the bombshell, and Peggy’s the career girl), I find much to identify with in each of them. I love the show’s slowness, and its subtlety.

For instance, despite the fact that pretty much every interview and article about Christina Hendricks (that article is idiotic, watch out) feels the need to mention some variation of “Hey, she’s curvy AND hot!” or “She’s hot ‘CAUSE she’s curvy!” the show does not once mention the fact that she is “curvy.” The current use of the word “curvy” is totally obnoxious; people use it instead of “fat,” and pat themselves on the back for being so progressive. But what makes Joan’s character progressive is that no one suggests she’s not skinny (i.e. curvy i.e. fat)—she’s just hot, period. Weight is beside the point. Likewise, there are no conversations about Peggy being “untraditionally” attractive—she too is simply attractive, the cute new girl. Though I appreciate shows like “Drop Dead Diva” for making weight and body image the center of discussion, I also think it’s great to see “Mad Men” ignore it in this way. It suggests that the question of whether regular women (women larger than a size 2, who have never had nose jobs) can still be hot is too obvious to be worth discussion.

However, my biggest OH MY GOD moment of identification with the show came in the season two finale, in a confrontation between Betty and Don:

Betty: Where have you been? You disappeared.
Don: I had to have some time to think about things.
Betty: Must be nice. Needing time and just taking it. All on your own terms. Not wondering what anybody thinks—me, the children.
Don: Bets, I’d do anything I could to undo what happened.
Betty: What happened?
Don: I was not respectful to you.
Betty: Well, now I know I’m not crazy. That helps.
Don: I can’t walk away from this. I wanna be with you. I wanna be together again.
Betty: I don’t know. Honestly, things haven’t been that different without you.

I almost died.

Okay: I don’t want to get too crazy personal here (I’m saving that for the Roman a Clef, JUST YOU WAIT, ASSHATS), I will just say that the most frustrating and difficult-to-get-over situations in my life have been that way because the people around me refused to acknowledge that my concerns were valid; I felt like I was the only person who even recognized that there was a problem—and that, if it was only me who saw it, then I must be crazy. Only much, much later did I realize that there were other people who felt as I did—they just chose not to say anything.  It would have made all the difference in the world if someone had just said “Hey.  I see you.  You’re not crazy.”

Now that I’m in the process of applying my opinionated, “crazy” self to Div III, a few friends have expressed concern over whether I intend to be “fair” to all the people I’m representing in Burn Book. I guess my response is: I’m not concerned about being fair to Don Draper. He can take care of himself.  I’m writing this for Betty, who’s still wondering if she’s crazy.