It’s International Women’s Day 2023.
Lizzie and I are sitting at the kitchen table, eating soup (provided by Lizzie – as usual – I’m ashamed to say) and discussing this yearly event.
‘They’ve asked me at work to send in a photo of myself,’ says Lizzie, frowning. ‘But not any photo. I have to be hugging myself. Because it’s International Women’s Day.’
‘How autoerotic,’ I smirk.
‘It’s ridiculous!’ groans Lizzie as she munches a Ryvita. ‘The whole thing. I can’t stand International Women’s Day.’
Now Lizzie is a dyed-in-the-wool feminist. So I’m a little surprised by her contrary position.
‘What’s wrong with it?’ I ask, innocently.
‘One day isn’t long enough, for all the crap women have been through,’ Lizzie explains. ‘Look at Pride. It’s brilliant… and it gets a whole month. Like it should!’
‘So why do women only get one day?’ She picks up another Ryvita and clamps her jaw around it, with an uncompromising crunch.
‘Actually,’ I say, knowing I’m going to regret saying anything, ‘you get two days if you count Mother’s Day.’
‘Mother’s Day doesn’t count!’ Lizzie barks back. ‘Not all women are mothers, obviously. And men get Father’s Day too.’
‘Yes, but everyone knows Father’s Day is shit,’ I argue. Lizzie’s expression suggests she isn’t buying it.
‘Still… excluding Mother’s Day and Father’s Day,’ I continue, foolishly, just playing devil’s advocate really, ‘at least you still get one more international day than men.’
‘Men get all of November!’ Lizzie suddenly pronounces. ‘A whole month!’
I think about this for a moment. Do we?
‘Do you mean Movember?’ I ask.
Lizzie nods, animatedly.
‘But that’s not really a celebration of men,’ I counter. ‘It’s just when some blokes grow moustaches for charity.’
‘I think it’s a celebration of men. And it’s for a whole month!’ Lizzie asserts. She’s semi-smirking, but she’s being at least semi-serious, it seems.
‘But you can grow a moustache for Movember, if you want. And can actually do it,’ I argue.
Lizzie thinks about this for a moment. ‘I will! I’m going to grow a moustache for Movember! That’ll show all of you men!’
I’ve no idea if Lizzie will really encourage the spread of some downy fluff, over her upper lip, to reappropriate Movember for womankind. But right now she seems pleased about the idea.
‘You can call it Frida Kahlo month,’ I suggest.
Lizzie nods, her eyes narrowed and (hairless-)philtrum twisted in thought. Maybe she will.
March 2023
P. D. Clifton 
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