Last week, I found myself -- yet again -- explaining why it is wrong to blame women for being sexually assaulted. Since a woman can be deemed "bad" for anything from wearing a short skirt, to not covering her hair, to having an opinion of her own, the game is clearly rigged. So I don't play. I don't care what a woman wears, says, or does: she does not deserve to be sexually assaulted. Period. Let's ask the real questions.
Krista Ford may have apologized for advising women to not "dress like a whore" to avoid a sexual assault, but the tweet by the niece of the Toronto mayor has still raised the ire of women's advocates...
Last night, Krista Ford, who happens to be the niece of Toronto Mayor Rob Ford, tweeted what she seemed to have considered helpful "safety" advice following a Toronto Police press conference re: a recent string of sexual assaults in Toronto. What Krista said was problematic for many reasons.
She placed the onus for preventing sexual assault on a potential victim, pointing to clothes as a reason or inciting factor of sexual assault (time and time again proven to be untrue). When anyone says that "dressing like a whore" makes someone liable to be raped, they're blaming existing survivors for their own victimization.
This Krista Ford "don't dress like a whore" thing has really put me over the edge -- truly. I am experiencing the pinnacle of what Jezebel's Erin Gloria Ryan coined "Rape Fatigue."
Assuming many of you are also suffering from this enraging affliction based on the last seven or so days of the news cycle, I'll keep the recapping to a minimum and just get right to it: everyone needs to stop telling women how not to get raped. Now.
Dear a lot of people, but specifically Ms. Krista Ford, I feel like you owe me a moment of your time, even though we've never met. The circumstance being you called me a whore. I should clarify: I'm one of the victims of the recent string of sexual assaults in the Annex. 'Sup? It's nice to make your acquaintance.
For the record, I was sexually assaulted while wearing a knee-length polka-dot dress. The last time I wore that dress, it was to Easter dinner at my Gran's, where I'm fairly certain I could make little to no money whoring.