Week Woman

A Pox on the Patriarchy

My Hijab, My Body – A Muslim Feminist on Street Harassment in Argentina

- Nasreen Amina

“The little streets of Buenos Aires have this, je ne sais quoi, you see?” So said Astor Piazolla in his famous song, Balada para un Loco. For me at least, this ‘je ne sais quoi’ has a name: sexual harassment – that verbal and physical oppression which invades my personal space and my liberty. And it ranges from the negligibly humorous to the outright insulting or hurtful.

Argentina is a society accustomed to nudity: dance programmes on TV feature breast and crotch close-ups of scantily-clad women at every opportunity; it’s also pretty standard for wiggling buttocks to hog much of the limelight. More than one TV presenter has undressed during the making of a programme simply because, well, why not? The majority of showbiz mags deploy the obligatory semi-naked cover woman. Meanwhile, porn mags are available at eye-level in every kiosk: any passer-by can feast their eyes on a bewildering array of sexual positions.

In every single one of my sallies out onto the streets of the capital I have experienced at least one episode of violent harassment. Let me repeat that: every single one. So I’d like to share a few examples of the kind of “flattery” I look forward to on a daily basis. Look on it as an illustration of the joys of the street.

Scene: the ticket office at my local station.

“How lovely you are! Would you like company?”; “You look like an oriental doll, I could just eat you up!”; “Hello darling, do you want to try a Macho Argentino?”; “What a great pair of tits!”; “What a delicious arse you must have under that skirt love!”

Scene: the street.

“You don’t know how I’d do you”; “I’ll fill you up to your ears”; “I’ll make you a baby right here beautiful!”; “Sweet little thing, so tiny; I’ll bite you till you bleed”; “What luck you’re a whore, darling”; “I’m dying to strip you”.

And this is before we even mention the imaginative use made of packed trains, buses and metros; it’s pretty much standard that one of the city’s many gentlemen will while away the tedium of the trip by rubbing himself against me.

I know, you’re probably thinking that I must be a woman of luminous beauty, or that I shimmy down the street in figure-hugging, revealing clothes. Well, if this described me it would in no way justify the harassment.

But in any case, this does not describe me. I completely belie the Argentine stereotype of beauty: I’m not a light-eyed blonde; I’m not tall or leggy; and I don’t have the super-slender figure of a top model.

I’m not even a JLo-esque ‘dark hotty’.

As it happens I’m irredeemably latina, with not a single trace of the European in me. This means I’m short (158 cms), have dark eyes and yes, I do have curves – although according to the Argentine beauty standard, my size 12 figure is not “curvy” so much as “fat”.

And actually, I can be pretty certain that the harassment I receive has nothing to do with my curves, since, when I leave the house, the shape of my body is not easily discernible. I’m a Muslim woman; when I enter the street I’m covered up. And when I say covered, I mean that I’m dressed in a Jilbab and a Hiyab. The Jilbab can be a dress, or a long skirt down to the ankles and a top with long sleeves. The Hiyab, or Islamic veil, wraps around my head, neck, and part of my shoulders. Only my face and my hands are visible.

Nobody makes me wear this; it’s my decision. And I don’t cover myself out of fear that I might otherwise provoke the desirous male gaze upon my person; I’m quite clear on the fact that there’s nothing I can do to avoid it.

So if sexual harassment is not a question of beauty, or how much of your body is covered by clothes, it must be a question of power. The power to objectify a woman in public spaces through sexually-inflected verbal or physical advances. The power to demonstrate that she does not belong in the public space, and that, if she doesn’t want to be bothered, she should return to the private space. She should go home.

The irony is, if I were dressed more “like a woman”, I don’t think I would get so much attention; I’d be placed in the category of ‘not sexually attractive”. In an eroticized society like Argentina, the place of the Muslim woman in the social imagination is such that her presence in public spaces is seen as highly provocative for two reasons:

The first is concerned with the dressed-undressed dichotomy. Undress is the principle form of objectification of the female body in this society. My being covered is a deliberate opposition to this objectification through undress – an objectification which has been heralded as a sign of “liberation”. A women who shares the secrets of her body on television is considered to be acting as a liberated woman – even as a feminist. In reality, the only “liberation” created by this “voluntary” exposure of the objectified woman is the liberation of the repressed sexual urges of certain men.

But what is even more damaging about this false liberation is that it undermines the feminist discourse of emancipation through individuality. This concept of individuality, as opposed to homogeneity, is not synonymous with undress, so much as autonomy over one’s own body.

My covered body functions as an expression of that autonomy. It defies the patriarchy by opposing a conception of “female liberation” that merely assuages the sexism of a culture that is so deeply rooted in the sexual power of the macho over the female. I declare myself free in my own manner; it is not an attempt to answer the desires of machismo, which dictates that resistance must invite curiosity and heighten erotic expectations. In the mind of the average man, I continue to be an objectified woman: ‘I cover myself expecting a man to uncover me’, a supposed expectation that opens the door to a new objectification of the female body.

The second reason for the perceived provocation of the Muslim woman in public is concerned with the construction of the “other”; that is, that which lies outside the authorised discourse surrounding the authority-subordination axis of the culture in which I live. The visible elements of my religious identity are recognised as elements of a subjugated language. The ‘other’ which is not only unequal, because of difference life choices, but because it considers those choices are considered to be inferior.

It is unusual to see a muslim woman in the street; one presumes that “she lives incarcerated by the husband under seven keys”; still less is she expected to be seen on a march against gender-based violence, giving a public conference on feminism or talking on the radio about sexuality and reproductive rights. My presence disturbs the preconceived ideas and stereotypes surrounding the Muslim woman that, well fed by the cultural industry, live in the western mind. My presence counters the concept of the passive submission of a woman to the tyranny of the veil; a woman who is subject to male violence and who must be liberated and taught the liberty of democracy. My presence stands against the myth of the sultanah, the concubine, the silent and compliant harem girl, who hides a paradise of orgasms under her clothes; who is always ready for the sexual needs of the master. And let’s not forget the ethno-cultural stereotype which means that many people assume I am Arabic, Turkish or Iranian; that makes them speak to me in English or French; that makes them treat me like an idiot, basing their condescension on the arrogant assumption that “you don’t understand our culture” (my culture is the same as theirs, South American). The irony of their understanding Islam simply from seeing me walk past seems to pass them by.

In both of these cases, sexual harassment acts as a strategy of subjection to the power of the patriarchy, and to the erotic and cultural normative which resists accepting the ‘other’ – an ‘other’ which the patriarchy constructs according to its own norms. The patriarchy deploys its own discourse to dismiss the way in which I declare autonomy over my body and how, in turn, I use those elements of my identity as tools of empowerment.

By deploying my right to resist the ‘feminine liberation’ of sexism, my presence rejects the schemes of orientalism and of machismo. I rebel against the disciplinary attempts to make me a lesser expression of feminine identity. I reject the concept that free circulation and participation in the public space should be authorised by the dominant discourse of phallocentrism.

On the contrary: that discourse is one that enables my maltreatment in a myriad of ways as a disposable object.

This article has been adapted from the original Spanish by Caroline Criado-Perez; for the Spanish original, please see here.

*     *     *     *     *     *

Nasreen Amina is a journalist, feminist Muslim, writer and activist. She specialises in community development projects from a gender perspective and is a pioneer of Islamic feminism in Latin America. Her journalism has appeared in international websites such as Global Press Institute , Women News Network and The Huffington Post. Her blog can be found  here 

33 comments on “My Hijab, My Body – A Muslim Feminist on Street Harassment in Argentina

  1. Hey.
    I was thinking of adding a hyperlink back to your website since both of our sites are based mostly around the same niche.
    Would you prefer I link to you using your website address: http://weekwoman.
    wordpress.com/2012/08/20/my-hijab-my-body-a-muslim-feminist-on-street-harassment-in-argentina/ or web site
    title: My Hijab, My Body. Please let me know! Kudos

  2. jessmittens
    December 31, 2012

    I firmly believe that most men have a need to assert themselves over women in some way, so I agree that the reasons are based on power.
    Thanks for sharing.

    • kommissarw
      March 2, 2013

      “firmly believe”?

      So nothing will change your mind or that Confirmation Bias rules?

      “Most”? “need”? “some way”?

      Nothing of your statement is specific, let alone quantifiable. It points neither to crap anti-social “socialization” eg Patriarchy, nor any of the disgusting behaviors in some other species in related mammals eg “alpha male” behavior to other males & females within some species.

      It makes no attempt to separate nature from nurture, It cannot begin to identify what can & cannot be changed.

      I don’t take offense to your comment. I respect that your response is a reflection of resignation over a negative (possibly accurate assessment) combined with some healthy empathy & an intent to communicate to the OP.

      I ask that you reformulate *some* of it it to be more specific & focused. I identify as an Autism Spectrum Male Feminist/Humanist.

  3. Guls
    December 25, 2012

    All I take from this – most articulate, well=informed and passionate – article is that standards of beauty, dress etc are largely an irrelevance when it comes to sexual harassment and crime. Wherever there’s a disparity in power between two groups there’s going to ba abuse: the best protection any society can afford women is to grant them the fullest possible human rights: to vote, to own property, to adequate birth control and abortion, to legal redress, to financial independence and business-ownership etc – and even then the problem is far from solved. I recall reading some time back that during a period when Catholicism was viewed with suspicion – during The Troubles, maybe? – that Catholic nuns were subject to similar harassment here in the UK, and for – one might speculate – similar reasons to those outlined by Nasreem when she speaks of ‘…a strategy of subjection to the power of the patriarchy, and to the erotic and cultural normative which resists accepting the ‘other’ – an ‘other’ which the patriarchy constructs according to its own norms.’

    Given that religious hierarchies have done most of the dirty work in perpetuating the misogyny, homophobia and class-division that continues to make the world such a dangerous place for many, it mystifies me that women, and indeed, gay people would wish to participate in them at all, outside of countries in which they’re obliged to do so by the law of the land. I don’t consider myself anti-Muslim, anti-Christian or anti-Jewish; just anti-discrimination. How can The Church, for example be afforded the legal right to keep in place its glass ceiling contrary to anti-discrimanation law? The mortal cost of said Church’s continuing subjugation of women was made all too clear by the recent death of Savita Halapanvar in Ireland.

    Thanks, Nasreem for your article,

    Andy.

  4. Liz
    November 21, 2012

    “I know, you’re probably thinking that I must be a woman of luminous beauty, or that I shimmy down the street in figure-hugging, revealing clothes.”

    No, I wasn’t thinking that at all. I think this reveals a Muslim prejudice about the causes of harassment. I was thinking, ‘she must be a woman who seems readily bullied. I am well aware that hijabi women experience the worst sexual harassment.

  5. Sarah
    November 16, 2012

    What would we say of a religion that taught (enjoined) a race of people to cover their skin in public in order to be free of racial harassment?

    I would contend that it is not possible to believe in the hijab and feminism.

  6. Sarah
    November 16, 2012

    This article is full of paradoxes and confused thinking.

    By completely covering you are over-sexualising and objectifying yourself. You are treating non-sexual parts of your body as sexual, making yourself into one big sex organ. And you see the proof of it by the fascination you attract. Women across the Muslim world see the proof of it in the high levels of sexual harassment in their countries, Muslim countries are notorious for it.

    You rejection of “provocative” dress has been the adoption of another former “provocative” dress. Politically provocative, socially provocative, religiously provocative and evidently sexually provocative.

    You claim that you do not wear it to try to reduce harassment and that you know it does not work, and yet this is precisely why Mohammed instructed (not requested) his wives and the wives of his followers to wear it:
    “Those who harass believing men and believing women undeservedly, bear (on themselves) a calumny and a grievous sin. O Prophet! Enjoin your wives, your daughters, and the wives of true believers that they should cast their outer garments over their persons (when abroad): That is most convenient, that they may be distinguished and not be harassed.” (Quran 33:58–59)

    So why do you wear it? Is there another reason?

    • youssra
      December 28, 2012

      Why do you care so much about the reason she is wearing it?
      I mean people can wear what they want, I will never ask someone why they wear a trouser for example. You are clearly missing the whole point here: Men harassing a woman. that she is wearing a jilbab, a trousers or her underwear I don’t see why it is so important. Is it so hard to respect a human being?!

      • Week Woman
        December 29, 2012

        thanks for this comment :)

  7. Stephanie
    November 7, 2012

    Greetings, I googled “Muslim feminist and hijab” and this is by far the most interesting and intelligent discussion that resulted from my search. I just love the fact that you, Nasreen, and the others who have replied in either disagreement or agreement, are asserting individual and thought-out choices. I believe this is what God has intended in making each of us as different and precious individuals who are part of a greater common human race. I also found the discussion in the comments about intent and about how the differing reactions from men influence our dress both very interesting. My perspective is that of a white, middle class Western woman, growing up in the U.S. in a family that encouraged modesty in dress and no make-up or nail polish. Although the modesty was not to the extent practiced by most Muslim women, it was modest. Unfortunately, the feeling and learning I grew up with was more one of shame than pride about my body, my developing reproductive system, and sexuality and feelings (emotional ones, long before physical ones). I did have a desire to wear a bikini but the coupling of shame that this would mean that I was a “slut” alongside the awareness that I didn’t have the sexy body that bikinis seemed to be made for. . these made my mother’s “no” to the matter almost unnecessary. I had already censored myself. . .Now, flash forward many years. . .my husband is Moroccan and we lived in Morocco with his family for a few years. . while Morocco has quite a bit of Western, especially European influence, many families are quite traditional, including my husband’s. My experience in Morocco as a woman and as a mother of a young daughter and aunt to a 15 year old niece blossoming into a beautiful young woman all inform my sense of feminism and femininity today. It is full of contradictions but as well it is full of the delight that it is to be a woman and to witness and be part of the stretch of our gender from a sweet flower of a little toddler to a schoolgirl skipping joyfully down the street to a teenager dressing in an elegant tkcheta for a wedding, where she dances with her sisters, cousins, aunts and mother, with or without a hijab, but with a sexuality to her hips’ movement and a gaze monitoring the watch of others. . that I have never seen in my American niece in New Jersey, who walks about in shorts and a tank top on the streets of her city to pick up milk 2 blocks from her house, inviting the gaze of none of the men she passes. . .
    My experience in Morocco was one of learning cultural signals. . I quickly learned that a woman sitting alone at a cafe can expect to be approached (in words or in looks) by men. . the respect most often showed to women was somehow viewed as not as necessary as it would be in other places. . The harassment I experienced was by and large when I was alone and in Rabat at night. Or at least that was the worst. I taught a class that finished at 9:00 pm and took the train back to my husband’s town. I always wore the djellaba on these occasions and was baffled that this invited any attention . . so much I learned! I am not blonde and blue eyed, but have brown hair and green eyes. .. .I remembered lamenting to my husband that without even opening my mouth to reveal my disastrous accent in Arabic, people would call out that I was “romiya” (Western) and once at a flea market in Azrou, a man commented that I was an “ananas” (pineapple).. which my husband told me was some sort of compliment. . we (my husband’s family) all laughed about it, with my sister-in-law joking that if she’d been there, they would have called her “l-adiss” . . lentils. . I am still coming to terms with all of this, trying to reconcile and understand my different experiences in the U.S., Morocco, Belgium, and Grenada (West Indies) with my femininity and the male reactions to it. . .back in the U.S., women often dress less modestly, not so much out of sexualization of their bodies but out of comfort or habit. . .consequently the men around them are more habituated to seeing bare arms and calves and these sights are probably (I’m guessing here, I can’t claim to see things from a male perspective) less automatically arousing than they would be for someone for whom such sights were a rarity.. .I agree with what has been said in this thread about disrespect and have seen it in each of the countries I mentioned above, and also I have experienced a great deal of respect in each of these places, too. It occurs to me that if I wear a djellaba around in the U.S., so every potentially sexy part of my body is covered loosely in thick fabric, I know no one will honk on the street or grab their crotch and announce to me their sexual fantasies. . .but I might still be harassed in some other way. . to me it is about powering and bullying. . the same virile young man out on his own or with his friends who is inclined to leer at a woman in tight shorts that she has a “nice ass” might be demeaning to an elderly person moving slowly or to a young boy whom he can overpower to beat him to the last loaf of bread at a bakery. I’m not sure if I’m making sense here, but my sense is that harassment can be (perhaps always is?) about power: one person exerting aggression in the place of asserting healthy power in a respectful way. I have certainly seen and been part of the dance that goes on between a man and a woman or a young man and a young woman in which “cat calls” are sent in a way that is sexual but is not experienced as harassment by the woman. . I have seen that in Morocco, as a beautiful woman dances at a wedding in an elegant but completely unrevealing taksheta, soaking up the stolen, transfixed trance of a male audience pretending to look elsewhere. . and I have seen it and been part of it going for a run through California suburbs, crossing the street in front of men in a truck stopped at a traffic light. . .As a woman, and now a mother of a 5 year old daughter, I cherish the importance of developing self-esteem. . self-esteem – that term has been uttered in my head and by my mouth so often it has lost its meaning. . I re-learned it from my sister-in-law in Morocco, for whom my own daughter is named. She viewed the delicate and the ladylike in a girl as her most admirable attributes, and emphasized the need for a man for protection and knowledge. . I myself do not concur with her on those points, but I do concur strongly with her on the diamond of truth that she explained lay underneath her own indisputable dignity: the belief that a girl is ghali – – precious, and that “ghali-ness” or preciousness, is to be cherished and protected. What I have learned in my journeys between a secular society and a Muslim one – and this is my own experience and it not meant to be put forth as anything more than that – is that the cultivation of self-esteem, the sense that one is ghali, or precious, is imperative. It is so for a boy or a girl, because from that sense comes dignity, and a girl or a boy who believes they have dignity will then treat themselves with respect and expect others to as well. . .and when they encounter disrespect, they will know that it is the other person who is responsible for his/her disrespectful behavior; shame and self-blame are oh so much less likely to conquer such a girl or such a woman who knows she is ghali.

  8. Pingback: Mi Hijab, Mi Cuerpo: Una Musulmana Feminista Sobre El Acoso Callejero | Mariposas en la Tormenta

  9. hijab
    September 21, 2012

    It’s fantastic that you are getting thoughts from this article as well as from our argument made here.

  10. Naz Reshi
    September 15, 2012

    i find this article very strong …. i live in a place dominated by muslims …though i never wear hijab but i have to be sure not to cross my limits .. like wearing skirts or jeans can draw crowds and unnecesaary comments .. so its basically its the mentality of few men every wir.irrespective of religion or ethinicity .. many of them cant accept woman who aint following the very norms…or they really take pleasure in jeering anything they find interesting to jeer ..

  11. Emma Follett-Botha
    September 13, 2012

    Greetings from Cape Town, South Africa.
    Interesting and beautifully written article. Thank you for sharing your experiences and opinions. It’s unfortunate that you have been treated this way. How disgusted I am. I experience cat-calls and wolf-whistles on a daily basis, maybe not to the extent that you do, but it is still infuriating that some men think they have the right to treat us like sexual objects. And you’re right, it is about power. I often wonder if I was uglier, would they still have something to say?

  12. walkwiththerabbi
    September 3, 2012

    WOW!!! I’m virtually speechless! This is the precise reason I wrote “I’m Every Woman” – and the reason behind the fact that this message has miles to go before it’s run its course – globally! Thank you for profiling this stunning article!

  13. anazine
    September 3, 2012

    Reblogged this on AraBelle!.

  14. KKS
    August 24, 2012

    This is really nice. I’m a 26-year-old woman who lives in India. A country that’s considered to be one of the most unsafe ones in the world for women. Most girls are killed before they’re even born in my country. It’s one of the most well-networked organised crimes, female foeticide. Though the constitution provides us with equal rights, our weak governance hasn’t been able to deal with something as basic as the right of a girl child to be born. So you can imagine how a girl lives if she manages to survive the battle at birth. Rapes are rampant, molestation, public humiliation, domestic abuse, dowry etc are “normal”. Things that we learn to live with. We need more women like you. Those who understand that they need to support other women rather than giving up on them and subscribing to the misogyny. Courage, I believe is what women lack and only courage can help them win their self-respect (a basic right) back.

    • Week Woman
      August 24, 2012

      Thanks very much for this comment; awful to read. Let me know if you’d like to write a longer piece for the blog – it sounds like you have some stories that we should listen to.

      Best, Week Woman

  15. UHURA
    August 21, 2012

    During the time of the Prophet Mohamet (SAW) it is my understanding that when the Muslim women covered themselves with the veil, it was to protect them from the things you are experiencing, not to put them in such dangerous and insulting position. Perhaps you too need to dress in such a way to be treated with respect and dignity. Pattern yourself behind the women in your country who ARE treated with respect and dignity. ALLAH is the best of knowers and knows what is in your heart.

    • Week Woman
      August 21, 2012

      Read before posting UHURA: First, she does dress in this marvellous way which you claim will guarantee she doesn’t get abuse. She still gets abuse.

      Second, and more importantly, don’t you dare ever return here with your disgusting, repellent, victim-blaming. NO woman should ever have to dress or behave in any way to prevent men behaving like pigs. Men should just not behave like pigs. Why don’t you go and talk to her harassers about Allah? Your asinine misogynistic comments are not welcome here.

      • Mohamed
        September 13, 2012

        I think you’re misunderstanding what Uhura is trying to say. She’s not advocating that the writer should wear a veil or other such traditional Arab attire, she’s saying that such attire was advocated during the time of the prophet Mohamed because it was the attire of “upper class” women and these women were not harassed based on their status in that society. And so when other women dressed that way, they became indistinguishable from each other in terms of status or class and were protected from harassment. What Uhura is saying is that where the writer lives in this day and age, this same Arab attire does the opposite of protecting her, it makes her more susceptible to harassment, which defeats the purpose of the original reason that women dressed that way. Sure, the writer and all women should be able to dress any way that they want and expect not to be harassed but when we choose to wear something because of our religion and the religious purpose of wearing the garment is so that we are not harassed (al Qur’an says to women to draw their cloaks around them when travelling so they can be recognised and be prevented from being harassed) then it seems a bit silly to wear an Arab outfit, knowing full well that the effect thereof will be harassment. Don’t get me wrong, I agree that it is everyone’s right to wear what they like and expect not to be harassed but when we’re wearing something BECAUSE God wants us not to be harassed, then it’s rather silly to wear the outfit that will almost guarantee our harassment. Arab garb is no better than non-Arab garb. Dressing modestly is the only real requirement for men and women in Islam. What so many of us Muslims do, is to equate modesty with Arab culture and that’s where we go wrong. There’s a difference between culture and Islam. Again, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with Arab culture, I’m saying that Arab culture is no better than other culture, not even according to Islam. Remember God also says that the Arab is not better than the non-Arab, in al Quran.

    • Nasreen Amina
      August 22, 2012

      Why you think I should pattern to someone forgetting my own individuality? Are you muslim? so if this is the case you should know Allah doesn’t love the liar right? Pattern myself according an image doesn’t represent me would be the same of lying isn’t it? “Lying leads to iniquity and iniquity leads to fire” (Bukhari) Noone must to pattern to anyone here to gain respect since I deserve respect from the moment I am a human. Even if I am naked I deserve respect. And about the bad behaviour of men towards me Coran says modesty and discretion is commanded and made fard first for men. The ayat says “And say the men believers to lower their gaze..” so, why you don’t come back to the library and check again what is comming from your mouth? And take your time, please.

  16. Isabel
    August 21, 2012

    Bravo Nasreen. In my humble opinion, a fine articulate article, discerning, clear and illustrative. A pleasure for the eyes to read

    • Amin Ali
      August 23, 2012

      Thanks, all merit is for @WeekWoman who did a delightful translation from spanish

      • Nasreen Amina
        August 23, 2012

        Yes darling, Caroline did a great job really. I am glad I could visibilize something I think I am not the only one facing it. I would like to keep the collaboration is she doesn’t mind. By the way, this is what you do while I am out home? read my stuff? I am gonna lock my netbook jajajaja. Lvu

  17. emahadeo
    August 20, 2012

    I am stuck on some of the horrific comments you hear daily. As a woman I cannot imagine why men say these things to you. I suppose you could be right about it being a power thing, or perhaps an uncertainty because of how you are dressed..but really I just don’t know, and it is a little scary to me.

    • Nasreen Amina
      August 20, 2012

      I am not scared. They’re the ones with the problem. I would be afraid if , as human, I found myself able to have such behavior towards other human and not questioning if is right or wrong. I share this experience not from the point of a muslim woman in distress. I know most people see me as a exotic minority or a victim, or vulnerable for being a woman, but I think as long I know myself enough and I am clear in who I am and my convictions, I will be always the majority who speak loud for myself

      • Week Woman
        August 20, 2012

        Good for you. Truly a feminista divina :)

  18. vincenza63
    August 20, 2012

    Tesoro, bellissimo. Lo traduco con calma in un italiano vero, poi lo reblog su WordPress, ok?

    • Week Woman
      August 20, 2012

      Afraid I don’t speak Italian – what are you asking? I get the impression it’s to republish this article – if you want to translate it into Italian, that’s fine, so long as you include a link back to this original post and make it clear that this is where it was first published. Best, Week Woman

      • Patricia Valoy (@Besito86)
        August 20, 2012

        She is saying she’d like to translate it to Italian and repost on her blog. I recommend you refer her to @divinafeminista for permission.

      • vincenza63
        August 23, 2012

        Ok, i’ll do it as soon as i get back home in September.
        Best,
        Vicky

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