Life was easier for women when men didn't need to hide their sexism

Telegraph

9 hours ago

The Noughties were another country where rampant sexism went so unchecked it passed as mass entertainment. Many women of my generation still shudder at memories of Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand thinking it was hil-ar-i-ous to prank call the actor Andrew Sachs (Manuel in Fawlty Towers) and leave vile messages about Brand's sexual relationship with Sachs' granddaughter Georgina Baillie.
Only this week, a 2007 list from US Maxim of the five 'Unsexiest Women Alive' has just resurfaced on Reddit, to a chorus of condemnation. The incredibly talented female celebs hand-picked for this indignity – doubtless by a playgroup of man-child nobodies – were Sarah Jessica Parker, Amy Winehouse, Sandra Oh (before Killing Eve made her cool forever), Madonna and Britney Spears. The takedowns were cheap and unpleasant, punishing self-made superstars for not being supermodels. Parker was 'horse-faced', Oh's figure was too 'boyish', Winehouse had 'rat's nest' hair, Madonna had succumbed to 'postnuptial deterioration', while Spears had the audacity to gain weight.
It should all make me feel glad to be living in 2025, when no mainstream mag could publish such a list without risking boycotts and loud condemnation. Because we've totally eradicated this kind of woman-hating nonsense from our culture, haven't we? Oh, hang on a second – it's got MUCH worse.
While public performances of cartoon misogyny in establishment arenas have been largely erased, the online army of frothing incels and MGTOWs (Men Going Their Own Way without les femmes) is rapidly swelling. There they online are in basements, attics, strip-lit offices, ramping-up likes for Andrew Tate, Donald Trump and anyone prepared to say that all problems stem from expletive deleted po-faced feminists.
No matter that pretty much everyone in charge across the globe, when I last checked, were blokes. Their freedom of speech is in dire peril because no one will let them rate TV hotties out of 10 anymore, or be mean about women who dare to age, or pile on a few pounds.
And do you know what? A part of me wonders whether we weren't all better off when the sexist pigs were there, right under our noses – easy to monitor, chide and call to account. When you could tell your son his favourite mag was run by a bunch of sadsacks. Although that might not even be the truth, because, having worked on GQ and known many male hacks on men's mags in their 1990s' heyday (reader, I married one) they were often outrageously funny. Pushing the envelope was part of the appeal, but meant a high risk of offence. And at least equal opportunities meant both sexes could be equally vile about one another.
I'm ashamed to admit it but in 2010 I wrote the following words about a blokeish TV star: '[He] seemed to operate in a charisma vacuum, with all the vitality of a rucksack rammed full of turnips.' I later sat next to the star at a private dinner and had to grovel for my thoughtless words, though he graciously forgave me.
The gloves were off for everyone back then and I was often called horse-faced myself. But now only women can dish out sexist insults without fear of repercussions. We screwed down the lid on the pressure-cooker of male frustration but didn't deal with the root causes. And now I fear it's about to blow.