Taking out the trash this women’s day 💅
A bucket of glue, a hot pink dumpster, and IWD.
A few days ago, I was standing on a street corner in Amsterdam with a bucket of glue, dodging police cars and looking like a literal fugitive. And for a second, I had to ask myself.. Have I finally lost it?
But then I remembered why I was there.
We’ve all been handed a script. We’ve been reciting lines we never agreed to write. “Boys will be boys.” “You’re smart for a woman.” “Doe normaal.”
These phrases are everywhere. They’re passed down like heirlooms, whispered at dinner tables, and slipped into conversations until they start to sound like the truth. But here’s the thing about cultural scripts, just because you know the lines doesn’t mean you have to play the part.
So for International Women’s Day, I decided to do some literal housekeeping—as apparently…that’s what women do best. I took those scripts and I plastered them exactly where they belong: on the trash. 60 bins to be precise. I wanted to call out the obvious sexism, sure, but also the internalized garbage we tell each other — the “I’m not like other girls” energy that only serves to shrink us.
The highlight, though? The Feminist March.
Two days before the march, I had this vision of a massive, hot pink garbage bin where women could physically dump the garbage that was never ours to carry.
Now, in Amsterdam, finding a giant bin last minute is a near impossible feat, but I’m not really in the business of taking “no” for an answer. I found it. I cleaned it 🤢. I painted it. I brought it to Museumplein.
And the energy was insane.
The second I put that marker down, it was over. Women were lining up to purge. “Don’t be so emotional.” Trash. “It’s your fault because of what you wore.” Trash. “Text me when you get home.” Trash. “Nobody will believe you.” Trash.
Watching women of all nationalities, and generations throw those bags away was an empowering ritual. It wasn’t about “men are trash” it was about the fact that the narrative is trash.
The second you recognize the script is the moment you get to stop acting in it. We have agency and we get to decide: are we going to keep repeating these tired messages? Or are we going to throw them the fuck out and write something better.
GIVEAWAY ALERT: In honor of Women’s Month I’m giving away two of my favorite clit suction vibrators. You have exactly 24 hours to enter — like this post and tag a woman who deserves endless pleasure.
Stay shameless.
xx
Jess