Archive for September, 2008

Cooking Up Trouble, Episode 1: Fruit Pies!

Posted in Domestic God(desse)s, Food with tags , , , on September 29, 2008 by Sally Rebel

This is the first installment of my delicious new column, Cooking Up Trouble with Sally Rebel! Get on your aprons, because today we’re making Rustic Fruit Pies, a dessert that is so freakishly easy and yet so ridiculously good that you’ll make it all the time and get fat, fat, fat. Hooray!

These are called Rustic Fruit Tarts because “rustic” is a fancy word for “ugly, but yummy.” Only they’re not ugly, they’re just a different kind of beautiful. They’re kind of lopsided and handmade-looking, but that’s okay because they’re dessert, and nobody cares what dessert looks like.

I adapted (ie, sort of stole) the fruit filling recipe from Veganomicon, my favorite cookbook, but I provided a few simple alternatives that will make a Rustic Fruit Tart into a Rustic YOU-t Tart!

Continue reading


Happy Video Clip of the Week

Posted in Video on September 27, 2008 by Sally Rebel

Here’s a great way to start your Saturday:

Yeah, I like the Spice Girls. What?

So, yeah…

Posted in GLBTQ, Good News, Media on September 26, 2008 by Sally Rebel

Clay is gay.

And he’s okay!


What a day.

I’m gonna stop rhyming now.


An Ode to…Bad-Ass Boots

Posted in Clothes, Odes on September 21, 2008 by Sally Rebel

After the last two posts being so serious, I figured I needed to write one celebrating one of my favorite things in life: boots. Some girls wear “screw-me” pumps. I wear “screw-you” boots.

Boots say it all: don’t mess with me. Every buckle, zipper, and stud is like a self-esteem pill you take via foot-skin osmosis. I’m not talking about sleek little suede numbers with tassels at the ankles and flower appliques. I mean black pleather, reinforced, withstand-a-nuclear-holocaust boots. Preferably with inch-thick soles and neon laces.

My favorite pair of boots is a beat-up pair of biker boots I bought in New York for my birthday. They’re flat and wide around the calf, with a buckle around the ankle and scuffed toes. They’ve carried me everywhere–I wore them the day I became a teenager, the day I started high school, the day I got my heart broken for the first time. And through it all, they’ve reminded me of the bad-assed-ness that lies within me, and carried me through the times where I feel like I don’t have any bad-assed-ness left. They’re my security blankets, and I can’t imagine life without them.

Well, okay, I could, but it would be empty and depressing and my feet would be very, very cold.

Dropping the F-Bomb

Posted in Feminist Issues, Stereotypes with tags , , on September 20, 2008 by Sally Rebel

Right now, there is a smart, independent young woman somewhere, living her day-to-day life. She goes to work or school or soccer practice, she eats and sleeps and breathes. She considers herself equal to any man. But for some reason, she won’t call herself a feminist.

Maybe it’s the image of an unshaven, screaming man-hater, brandishing a “Male Pigs” sign and snarling at a police officer. Maybe it’s the amused, patronizing response people have to the word–an eye roll, a silly smile, hands thrown up in mock defense. Or maybe it’s because the prefix “fem” makes people instantly think that feminism–the movement that began as “the radical belief that women are people”–means women being superior to men.

Here’s the way I see it:

As long as oppression against women exists, feminism must exist. Go ahead, call it “egalitarian,” or “gender equal,” or whatever you feel describes it best, but it is all the same concept: the presence of a uterus is not a disability. Just like more melanin in the skin is not a disability, just like being attracted to your gender is not a disability. It has nothing to do with preferring women to men, as many would have you think–“If it was equal, it would be called humanist!! Man-hater!!!” Screw that. If you’ve got a hole in your jeans, you need a patch. That doesn’t mean you like the patch more than the rest of the jeans. It just means you need it. Once the patch is sewn on, it’s not a patch, or a hole. It’s a pair of jeans.

Have I taken the metaphor a little far? Maybe. But I’ll take it a bit further.

Right now, the hole is pretty big. We’ve done all we can to fix it, and we’ve made progress, but we still have a ways to go. So I believe, in this day and age, we shouldn’t make feminism the third F-word. If you believe men are equal to women and deserve freedom to choose what to do with themselves and their lives, you are a feminist. The little girl who believes she is as good as a little boy is a feminist. Her brother, who thinks that girls deserve as much respect as he does, is a feminist. The stay-at-home mother down the street is a feminist if she believes she is equal to her husband. Her working sister, if she believes the same thing, is a feminist, too.

And the smart, independent young woman mentioned before, as much as she hates to admit it, is a feminist, too.



A Few Thoughts On Children’s Pageants

Posted in Beauty, Children, Feminist Issues, Media, Pageants with tags , , , , , on September 16, 2008 by Sally Rebel
Taken from a Pageant Photo Site

Taken from a Pageant Photo Site

Sites such as the one that created the photo above have been circling around the feminist blogosphere for a while. Well, now it’s my turn to talk about them.

These “Pageant Photography” sites will (for a fee) retouch your little darling’s photo so she can look like a 35-year-old with a growth disorder, allowing her (or him, I suppose) to wow the judges at your local pageant. And if that doesn’t do the trick, you can always rely on spray-tans and temporary veneers to cover up those gap-teeth!

Do you think I’m kidding? Because I’m not.

A few weeks ago, TLC released a documentary, “Painted Babies at 17,” as a follow-up to a previous documentary, titled (you guessed it), “Painted Babies.” The former caught up with the two stars of the latter, Brooke Breedwell and Asia Mansur, both child pageant queens. There’s one catch, however: Brooke has since dropped out of pageants, while Asia is still going strong, competing far and wide in teen divisions. At one point, she is seen rehearsing a song for her performance, the ironic “Cause I’m a Blonde” by Julie Brown. Sung unironically:

Because I’m a blonde I don’t have to think, I talk like a baby and I never pay for drinks
Don’t have to worry if I’m getting a man if I keep this blonde and I keep these tan
Cause I’m a blonde yeah, yeah, yeah
Cause I’m a blonde yeah yeah yeah

I see people working and it just makes me giggle,
cause I don’t have to work, I just have to wiggle

And, to top it all off, here’s a lovely photo for pageant costumes from a site called “Broadway Babe.”

Just a few thoughts.

Willkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on September 16, 2008 by Sally Rebel

Hey there!

Welcome to La Rebelle, the mental meanderings of a teenage misfit. I’m Sally Rebel, currently the only author of this blog, but with any luck, other bloggers will join in the weeks to come.

La Rebelle is a blog about the world through my eyes, which means it’s fairly satirical, politically savvy, sarcastic, and (hopefully) funny. Being a liberal, feminist, punk-ish indie-rocker girl in a small town, I needed to find some way to share my various quips, quotes, and anecdotes with the world, and so, after much thought, I chose blogging.

So, please give a warm welcome to my lil’ baby blog, La Rebelle, and I hope to see you back soon!

Auf Wiedersehen … à bientôt…goodbye,

Sally Rebel