A toddler bikini? I’m think I’m okay with that. A poorly written defense of the toddler bikini? I take great umbrage.

I did not like this piece by Jessica Grose in The Daily Beast defending the toddler bikini. I don’t like it at all. 

I’m not quite sure how I feel about toddler bikinis. Honestly, I think I agree with Grose on the issue for the most part, but I don’t like her argument one bit. It’s a mess.

Issues include:

Gwyneth Paltrow’s goofily named e-commerce website and blog, Goop, recently featured bikinis for girls 4 to 8 years old.

Don’t open the piece by making fun of the name of the website selling the bikinis. Even if you think Goop is a goofy name for a website (and I do not), it’s no way to begin an argument. Ad hominem attacks are unnecessary and undermine your authority.

Next:

“The British charity Kidscape, whose mission is to prevent bullying and child sexual abuse, took one look at the dour blonde child model donning the Odabash bikini on Goop and cried outrage.”

Also poorly argued. To imply that Kidscape “took one look” attempts to imply that the organization did not examine the issue closely before issuing their statement. Grose could not know this, and it is likely not true.

Also, using the phrase “cried outrage” implies that Kidscape’s statement was less than reasoned. Read the statement. Kidscape did not cry outrage. The organization released a statement that explained their opposition to these bikinis in clear, reasoned language, and I am quite sure this was written after more than just “one look.”

Next:

This isn’t the first time Kidscape has criticized a celebrity mom for her pro-bikini stance: They dissed Jessica Simpson back in September for putting her baby girl, Maxwell, in a yellow two-piece and showing pictures of the 4-month-old on Katie Couric’s show.

Dissed? Read their statement. Kidscape released a rationale statement expressing their concerns about these bathing suits, especially in light of Simpson’s celebrity status. They did not “dis” her. They did not attack her in any way. Once again, this is an attempt to imply an emotional response that simply did not exist.

Next: 

“…if you unpack the logic behind it…”

This may be a personal preference, but “unpacking the logic” is a self- important phrase that carries no real meaning. You can examine the logic. Counter the logic. Debate the logic. Refute the logic. Oppose the logic. Even guffaw at the logic. But unpack the logic? Give me a break.

Next:

If you think there’s anything sexual about that child model’s presentation, you’re probably the kind of person who’s outraged by the retro Coppertone toddler. All that exposed cartoon flesh! The horror!

Not only does Grose make a broad assumption here (if you believe A, you must believe B), but she does not actually attempt to refute the opposition to the bikini or the retro Coppertone toddler. A sarcastic “All that exposed cartoon flesh! The horror!” is not an actual argument. There’s nothing wrong with a little sarcasm if it’s also supported with an actual reason or evidence, but Grose provides no reason whatsoever.

Next:

Beyond the misplaced fears of early sexualization, the other concern among the anti-bikini set is that girls who are put in bikinis at a young age will be more worried about their weight.

While I agree that these fears of early sexualization may be misplaced, Grose doesn’t actually make this argument. She simply dismisses them in this single transition sentence. “Beyond the misplaced fears of early sexualization?” When did we get beyond them?

Next:

But as Dr. Robyn Silverman tells the Today show, a mom’s attitude about body image is much more important for her daughter’s well-being than how much fabric her swimsuit has.

Agreed, but just because a mother’s attitude about body image trumps the amount of fabric in a toddler’s swimsuit does not mean that the swimsuit is irrelevant. No one is surprised that many factors play a role in a girl’s body issue, nor are we surprised that some factors might be more important than others. But to imply that the importance of one nullifies another entirely is an obvious a flaw in logic, packed or unpacked.

In addition to all of this, Grose cites expert’s appearances on The Today Show and a commenter on Jezebel in the piece, and other than a writer from the Daily Mail, these are the only sources she uses. I don’t think of any of these sources as serious or reliable. Basing your argument on the answers derived by third party journalists on a morning talk show is hardly the way to support your argument, and cherry-picking a random Jezebel commenter is convenient and ridiculous.  

As I said, I ultimately agree with Grose on the issue of the toddler bikini. I don’t think I have a problem with it unless it is designed in poor taste.

But I have a problem with this piece.

While the bikini doesn’t offend my sensibilities, Grose’s argument does. It’s careless and at times ridiculous.

Hannah Horvath versus Walter White: Sometimes it has nothing to do with sex.

If you don’t watch Breaking Bad and Girls, this post will probably be a little too inside baseball for you, but I can’t help but respond to a tweet I saw earlier this week (when I blog was down) by writer Jessica Grose.

She tweeted:

Thinking about how way more people talk about how "awful" Hannah Horvath is than how awful Walter White is, despite his body count and meth

I can’t get over how short sighted this sentiment is.

The difference between Walter White and Hannah Horvath could not be more stark.

Walter White is a meth cook and a murderer, but when we meet Walter White, he is a chemistry teacher dying of cancer who engages in his illegal trade in order to keep his family solvent upon his death. Throughout the series, he proves himself to be a loyal friend, a trustworthy business partner, a dedicated husband, a loving father, a hard worker and an incredibly brave man.

Yes, he is producing a substance that ruins people’s lives, and yes, he is responsible for the deaths of a handful of people (all bad guys), but his motivations are as pure as the drug that he sells.

We are supposed to like Walter White. The viewer can’t help but root for him. He is unselfish, courageous, resourceful and honorable. We like Walter White because he is a good bad guy. He is an anti-superhero. He is a man who has not allowed his circumstances to dictate his fate.

When we meet Hannah Horvath, we learn that she has been living off her parents’ credit card for her entire life and has made no honest attempt to earn a living on her own. She claims to be pursuing a writing career, but the viewer quickly learns that she had made no serious effort in this regard. She is the classic example of someone who does not like writing but likes the idea of “having written.” She is self-centered, narcissistic, attention seeking and directionless. She ends friendships over trivial matters and requires (and often begs) for frequent rescue. She tends to ignore or discount her friends’ problems while acting overly dramatic about her own.

Hannah Horvath is “awful” because she demonstrates almost no concern for anyone save herself.

Don’t get me wrong: I like Hannah Horvath. She is flawed, as is Walter White, as are all of us. She is struggling to find her path at a time when many of us also felt aimless and uncertain. She is often awful, but so are the rest of us. I like Hannah Horvath, but I would not want to be her friend. At this point in her life, she is focused primarily on herself.

Walter White, for all his criminal activity, repeatedly risks his life on behalf of his family and business partner. He’s a bad guy, but he’s not “awful.”

The reaction of viewers in regards to these to characters is not an issue of gender or sex or age. It’s simply a difference of motivation.

Hannah is most often motivated by her own self interest.

Walter White is most often motivated by his concern for others.

As a result, the viewer finds him less awful.

I suspect both Vince Gilligan (the creator of Breaking Bad) and Lena Dunham (the creator of Girls) would agree.