“Look, all I’m saying is that, regardless of whether femininity is actually demeaning, we have to consider it as such in the context of the idealized male form. Nobody wants to see men in skirts”
There is a murmur that sounds suspiciously like assent.
“I disagree.” Cosette replies coolly, slipping one red-tipped hand into her pocket. “I don’t think that’s a necessary implication at all…”
And it’s frankly, about to get ugly (the number of people in a gender studies seminar who consistently miss the point verges on extremely distressing at times), so the professor pipes up to remind everyone that their final projects are due after the weekend.
Cosette runs into Mr. “Idealized Male form” on her way out, and he smiles, and laughs, and does his very best to joke that even she has to admit, it’d be hard to find a guy, a big guy, a real guy, who would dress up like that.
She smiles at him, very, very politely.
And sends a text to Bahorel and Eponine.