I LOVE EVERYTHING about this photo of a multi-tasking mama — an unknown photo researcher in Paris — hard at work in 1982.

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OKAY, SO I’VE BEEN meaning to do this post for a while. A very long while. You may remember (back in the infant days of The Sister Project) a little series called Sister Jams (Not Jellies), in which I highlighted all kinds of sibling bands and otherwise sisterly songs. (It was a broad sort of umbrella, really). In any case, that recent post I did about Kathleen Hanna reminded me of how Le Tigre’s “Hot Topic” is a much-needed third wave feminist-y addition to the list. And for nostalgia’s sake, how about we visit some of the old Sister Jams standards?

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Care to add on?

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I HAVE BECOME so enamored lately of the blog Cat Party. Blogger Chelsea Fairless’s depiction and exploration of femininity is just the most satisfying mix of camp and rock and eternal glam. I swoon. Here is a taste–a recent post, which embodies everything I love about being a girl:

At some point during my epically angsty adolescence I gave my Baby-Sitters Club “Mary Anne” doll a Kathleen Hanna-inspired makeover. Isn’t it hilarious? I have no recollection of doing it so I was surprised when I stumbled across her at my parents’ house over the holidays. Tragically Stacey and Claudia were nowhere to be found! Those dolls were creepy because the girls in the Baby-Sitters Club were supposed to be 12 and 13 but the dolls were really mature looking, a bit sexy even. That paired with the Catholic schoolgirl outfit that Mary Anne was wearing probably prompted me to reclaim her as a riot grrrl. I love the little safety pins on her skirt!

Hell yes. Read all the juicy archives here.

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I AM LUCKY ENOUGH to have become good friends here at graduate school with a bonified Jane Austen nerd. (Hello, former English majors!) When I am a mess over school or weepy about love sagas, this friend of mine always listens to my gripes and then pauses thoughtfully, before saying something to the effect of: “It sounds like you need some more Jane in your life.” (Yes, this is her proposed remedy for everything.)

At first I was dubious. You see, I fancy myself as more of a pomo, contemporary, weirder-the-better fiction nerd. So I figured these stuffy novels of old couldn’t possibly hold transcendent healing powers. But I am here to confess to you, readers, that I couldn’t have been more wrong.

It’s been years since I read any Austen novels, and I had forgotten how damn good the stories are: witty banter, financial strife, smart women, lost love, sprawling countrysides, compassionate sisters who write letters to each other, near-death illness, brutish (and occasionally tender) men. Really, what more do you need?

And all this is particularly poignant now, as Sense and Sensibility, Austen’s very first novel, which she published under the psudonym “A Lady,” is now 200 years old. Frankly, I can’t believe it. The pathos of the story, though clothed in all those bonnets and cleavage-clad empire waists, is so strangely contemporary.

If you’re feeling lazy (like me) about reading the book, might I recommend the 1995 movie version (which basically contains the entire cast of Harry Potter plus Kate Winslet with a Jheri curl). It’s fantastic!

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HAIR. OH, HAIR. MAYBE IT was the Steel Magnolias post I did a few weeks ago that brought this age-old sisterhood subject back to mind. I have, after all, talked hair here several times before, (mostly pertaining to my envy for the all-wholesome and timeless beauty of braids). But now thanks to my friend (and, ahem, hair stylist) Cara, I’ve been seeing hair in a whole new light. She’s recently started blogging about the design, science and social relevance of hair. Her posts are smart, stylish, and full of photos (see those ladies above at the Bronner Brothers hair show?) that blow my mind. Move over, Braid Wednesday, your edgy big sister is in town.

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Bishop with her poet BFF Robert Lowell

THROUGHOUT HER LIFE, poet Elizabeth Bishop refused to be anthologized with only women writers or only queer writers, insisting that her work needed to stand apart from any singular component of her infinite identities. I love this about Bishop, and I love her work, and when I think of my favorite writers who embody a kind of intangible womanness (sorry, Elizabeth), I always think of her. So in Bishop’s honor, I’d like to open the floor to your favorite women poets and fictioneers (only because my sister Marion, has the nonfiction corner covered).

I’ve posted here many times about books, but I’m officially claiming Elizabeth Bishop in my all time favorite list (along with Mary Gaitskill and Kate Chopin, oh, and Margaret Atwood.) If you’re not familiar with Bishop’s poems, I suggest you start here with “In the Waiting Room,” which is the most wonderful.

Who makes your list?

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IHAVE SOME VAGUE MEMORIES of watching Steel Magnolias with my childhood best friend and neighbor, Amanda. We were too young to understand what was happening between all the glamorous big hair and delicious southern accents but we were enamored just the same. We both cried at the end. I’m not sure that we even understood why. I just remember feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness, that (thankfully) was quite novel to me then. I was reminded of this memory, hazy though it may be, just a few days ago I went to see a theatrical production of Steel Magnolias in Greensboro.

The play was fantastic, and like so many childhood bits and pieces revisited in adulthood, I couldn’t believe everything I had missed as a kid. As I’m sure you’re aware, the story is the real bunny-bread-and-butter of sisterhood. The quotes (classic: “laughter through tears is my favorite emotion”), the touching moments, the hair–oh the hair. It was sisterhood in all its warm, fuzzy, girly greatness. And when the lights came up in the theater, I couldn’t help but notice that everyone (yes, mostly women but some dudes, too) in the sold out audience was wiping tears from their cheeks.

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AS I WIND DOWN my last semester of graduate school and the wide expanse of adulthood opens before me, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about money. (And apparently everyone else in the world is, too!) Of course, how to save it. But I’m also constantly catching myself thinking about how I’m going to spend it (once I get it, that is). So I thought it appropriate to post this week about the book Obsessive Consumption by Kate Bingaman-Burt, in which she has illustrated every purchase she made over three years.

In the introduction to Obsessive Consumption, Kate writes:

Why focus on consumerism? Money and purchasing and the problems with money and the emotional connection to buying products have been a constant in my life. When the women in my family get together, we go shopping. We discuss important issues in our lives over sale racks instead of the kitchen table. This is how I learned to communicate.

Neither of my parents are big shoppers. They’re actually remarkably frugal, but somewhere between the pink and black polka-dotted dress that I insisted on having at age four in a Charlotte, North Carolina mall and my current woes over owning shiny kitchen appliances, I’ve become totally brainwashed.

I love the idea of having to confront your purchases after they’ve been made. And while I don’t think I’m going to try my hand at illustration any time soon, I am quite inspired by Kate Bingaman-Burt’s work.

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Can you guess which sister cinema classic these items are from?

AS SOMEONE WHO IS, sadly, sisterless. (And who has been writing a blog about sister-ness for quite some time now) I’m constantly searching for ways to live vicariously through sister-figures. And right now, one of my favorite ways to live vicariously through all things glamourous and exciting is through design*sponge’s “Living In” series, which features little guides to acheiving the style of dreamy movies. Here are some of my sister-themed favorites from the series:

The Parent Trap (old version, obviously.) This is one of my all time favorite movies!

I love the old-timey swimsuit and those tortoise shell shades. See the full post here.

I have spent countless hours as a child pretending to be one of the sisters from Little Women (you too?).

Looking at this makes me feel like it’s recess at Bryant Elementary School and I’m pretending to be Beth on her deathbed. (Yes, that’s how I used to spend recess.)

And don’t forget these classics: Sense and Sensibility, The Virgin Suicides, and Hannah and Her Sisters.

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IKNOW, I KNOW. I’m becoming the girl who cried quilt envy. I keep saying I want to learn, but have yet to get down to business. But oh sweet Jesus, seeing this amazing robot number makes think that buying this book may solve all my problems.

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