Female Representation - Blog Posts

Transformers and Female Body Types (Rant/Essay)

(I wanted more images in this, but tumblr has a limit and it was a lot of pictures anyway)

Anyone who complains about female transformers having “robot boobs” needs to shut up. Unless it’s a case of critiquing a design that’s genuinely caricatured, this complaint only serves to protest against robots looking too feminine, as if all robots by default should have broad, masculine shoulders and flat chests instead. The problem is that people look at a masculine transformer and say, “Ah yes, an anthropomorphised robot.” But the moment it’s one of the female transformers, it’s “why do robots need boobs?” as if a male-looking body type is anthropomorphizing, but a female-looking body time is suddenly “too human” or “too much.” As if all humanoid robot aliens should look male by default.

That being said, for a long time transformers did have a glaring issue of their female transformers having a generic, Barbie-doll like body type. This especially became problematic as male characters appeared with several different and varying heights and builds, while female characters all looked the same.

This eventually improved with newer media. I’m going to go through different transformers series, giving my opinions on various female Cybertronians designs.

Transformers Animated and Transformers Prime are the cases where we see the very few female characters that there are being designed with this more Barbie doll look, especially in comparison to the male cast, who each have strikingly different silhouettes. I maintain that there’s nothing wrong with having this stereotypically feminine figure as long as it’s not caricatured or designed to sxualize the character (in TFA’s case, Black Airachnid was extremely sexualized, but Arcee wasn’t at least) it’s just the lack of variety that makes it painful. If all female characters were designed with a stocky, square body type, it would be just as bad; the problem is the lack of diversity in representing how each woman is different.

I think Arcee from Transformers Prime gets some of the most comments about how she has breasts and hips and is most often faced with the question “why should robots have boobs?” In response to this question, I propose: why shouldn’t they? The shape of their chassis really doesn’t matter in the end. I like Arcee’s design and acting like she’s inherently caricatured for looking like a woman is just a way of alienating femininity.

TFP Arcee is also unfortunately sexualized a lot by the fandom. Primus forbid a woman exist in peace.

The problem with these ‘Barbie doll’ designs isn’t that they are oversexualized— while this may have been a problem with Black Airachnia, the true problem, as seen especially with the treatment of TFP Arcee, is the concept that any female body traits are inherently sexual, which both creators and fandom spaces feed into.

It’s not as prominent, but I’ve also seen a trend of attempting to give female transformers more diverse body types by giving them… male body types.

In Transformers Cyberverse, the Seekers all have the same body type, whether they are male, female, or genderfluid, the only differences being that the female models have lips and the male ones have facial-hair like chin stubs (and Acid Storm switches back and forth). However I would hardly call this progress, because the body type is more male-leaning, not truly gender neutral.

Often to make something appear gender neutral, people will just remove anything too obviously feminine. This treats masculine traits as the “default” and female traits as a deviance from this. A truly gender-neutral design would incorporate both masculine and feminine traits at the same time.

(What if we just made all the Seekers look like women and gave the dudes chins. What if we did that. Huh.)

Shadowstriker from Cyberverse is a better example of this, having a female body type but a chin stub and generally gender neutral face.

I like the look of Alpha Strike as well, she feels actually gender neutral and isn’t too exaggerated like most muscular (and especially muscular female) characters are.

For example, Clobber’s design is good, but I do think her lips were strangely exaggerated.

Once the IDW run of the Transformers comics actually introduced female characters, they eventually gained a large cast with a variety of different body types. Take Windblade, Nautica, Pyra Magna, the Mistress of Flame, and Aileron.

These aren’t all examples, but IDW certainly had a unique design for each of their female characters, with different heights, width, mixing and matching the proportions of their bodies and displaying diverse body types. Aileron is also a stand-out character design for me, as one of the few heavy-set transformers to be designed in a way that looks more rounded than bulky, implying weight over muscle. We need more weighted transformers in general.

I have many positive feelings about Transformers Earthspark’s choice of character design for their female characters.

Earthspark has the most consistently diverse character design for its female characters.

And it shows that the key to designing actually good female Cybertronians isn’t necessarily to make them not feminine, but to show diverse depictions of femininity. All of the female characters in this show are pretty feminine, but they all look different. Twitch is small and slight, Hashtag is tall and boxy. Each one has different proportions and are easy to tell apart by body type alone. Even better, they each have drastically different facial structures. Twitch has large eyes, Hashtag has a strong chin, Elita-1 has a straight nose and pronounced lips, Arcee has small eyes and a very slight nose, et cetera. Earthspark is definitely a win in this department.

My point with all of this is to say that femininity isn’t a one-size fits all. Every woman is different and everyone should get to express their gender in whatever way they see fit. Transformers gradually diversifying the look of their female characters represents this, and I hope they continue improving as the franchise continues.

[Hey, That’s Her] The Riemann Sphere is Her Mirror on the Wall

                                   MBC 드라마 《신입사관 구해령》 (2019)

There may be such a woman.

For at least eleven hours a day, her analytical, artistic, emotional and ethical minds are collectively locked up in a Taylorist cell block where the mantra is familiarly simple: Don’t question, don’t tell. Every reasonable client is aware that this is a dog-eat-dog world, so it is up to him or her to look out for personal interests not yet covered by contract law or even fiduciary law. If you value your principles and dreams over your corporation’s needs, you are a selfish hypocrite. Oh, and complain all you want at the water cooler; just remember to put back your angel mask and keep your head low at meetings.

That much is not really astonishing. No one in this place is a one-day-old. What stuns more is the utterly dim calaboose she toils away at her daytime lockup to return her body to every night, where broken bottles and suspicious pools of liquids bedeck the streets, literal rock concerts never cease, homeless druggies openly spread their limp bodies on pavements, and drunken Cinderellas and Cinderfellas bang on random doors when the clock strikes twelve. 

Change might come with time but, given a burgeoning workload and an increasingly creepy cardiac rhythm, it must come soon. So, one night, she decides that if all jobs are this suffocating, she might as well take the best-paid one. It’s time to head back to graduate school, except that, this time, economic logic shall prevail over passion and intrigue.

As part of her research on Wealth and Investment Management MScs, she hunts down sample class videos from different business schools. Nestled among the suggested clips accompanying one search result, though, is a familiarly curious title that hypnotizingly whispers to her, Shopaholic Louis-style. It is the name an adviser, frowning over yet another overloaded course plan from her, pressed her into canceling out all those years ago right when meeting times for the semester did not conflict with those of her core classes. And soon, before her eyes, is an entire playlist for her narrowly missed destiny.

What harm could playing the introductory video at 2x do? Business schools’ admissions websites would not vanish in 30 minutes’ time. Ah, that was a collegiate equivalent of a soulful tearjerker but covered mostly basics she learnt in other classes. Application deadlines are half a year away, so there is ample room for a second lecture. Cool! The plot thickened pretty fast. Her college and graduate school debts are still badly in arrears. Can she be certain that she truly understands everything without attempting an unseen problem? Fetch homework sets from the official homepage tomorrow. Had she been bolder in imagination, she would have gotten question 7 right. Try harder for lecture three’s assignments. She has run out of eligible guarantors for a third loan. Lecture 11. Course completed. What a satisfying visual feast! Hey, the blurb of the follow-up course sounds fascinating too. It is not that she does not love investment banking. How about challenging herself at that course while the material of this course is still fresh in her mind? It is that she loathes investment banking. Mathematical logic has trumped economic logic. 

  How do you hold every number up to infinity in the palm of your hand without a poetic soul? Scoop out a round piece of dough and fancy being able to spread it so thin that it stretches to infinity. But instead of actually spreading it, roll up the edge to form a sphere. Let the bottom tip represent zero and the top tip represent infinity. As a point on the surface moves up from the bottom, it can have components that are each positive or negative, real or imaginary, depending on which pairs of opposite longitudes you assign the real number line and imaginary number line (recall: e.g. …, -10i, -9.99i, … , 0, … , 9.99i, 10i, …, where i is the square root of -1) to. The rise in value of each component accelerates with height, such that the physical gap representing any given numerical difference shrinks infinitely on the surface of the sphere as infinity approaches, making it harder and harder to advance and actually reach infinity. You are now cradling a physical version of the Riemann sphere.

© Jean-Christophe BENOIST, modified under the permission of CC BY-SA 3.0. P(A), around 1.5 in value, on the sphere corresponds to A on the grid, which represents the same numerical system in a typical boundless, regularly spaced 2D format. Similarly, P(B), around -0.5 in value, on the sphere corresponds to B on the grid.

 The macrocosm of universal random structures, infinite products, manifolds and many more is a dearly missed oracle that reveals her inadequacies for what they are, without miserliness, patronizing sugar-coating, or, ironically, calculation: her inflexibility, her inattentiveness, her impatience and her indolence. “Shortcuts and cookie-cutter approaches cannot be your default,” it states plainly. So long as they do not cross a certain line, tactful hypocrites, on the whole, seem to be treated better by their surrounding adult peers than sharp-tongued, straight-talking observers with pure intentions in her circle. Yet the more she experiences of the grown-up world, with the heightened stakes and heightened awareness of interpersonal dangers that deter verbalization of contrarian opinions on the one hand and massive clots of intractable ills on the other, the more she wishes to cherish many of those straight talkers. The ideal living beings are, of course, the severely scarce breed who efficiently marry the circumspection, civility and altruistic strategizing that come with tact with the determination to convey, where necessary, uncomfortable truths. 

For all its uninhibited criticism, mathematics gives credit where it is due and those who converse with it are frequently safe in the knowledge that it means its flattery. It reassures this corporate internee who feels increasingly stuck in her ways that she still has what it takes to master new grammars and vocabularies. It rewards her finesse at plugging gaps in background knowledge by improvising from scratch techniques taught only in later, simpler courses. What if these skills could let her pivot directly to some sector slightly less lucrative but also less odious to her than investment banking, never mind exactly how competitively relevant her prior higher education and corporate experience are?

Far more certain is that her deliciously madcap approach to this discipline with a matchingly rebellious streak has magically quietened the rock concerts and the intoxicated fairy tales and almost erased the jail bars. Nonetheless, as the faded bars unveil more and more vistas stretching beyond the horizons, she starts to wonder if she will live long enough to look a little further, if she will ever squirrel away enough bucks—after all those deductions for debt payments, taxes, food, rent, basic maintenance and transport—to hike a little closer, and if her wrinkled, financially secure self will continue to have the visual and cognitive acuities to deconstruct or even remember the sights a little longer. The jail bars resolidify to some degree.

Still, if positive infinity and negative infinity have been rendezvousing in a dimension invisible until intrepid mind adventurers outed them, and if functions as diverse as trigonometric functions, inverse polynomials and logarithmic functions share the same class of undercover identities, i.e. infinite sums of terms with increasing powers, maybe, she thinks, escape hatches exist somewhere nearby after all.

There may be such a woman. There may be such a snowless ending by a grilled window.

Note: This work of fiction commemorating Pi Day was inspired by an old Dramabeans guest post campaign, a few heartfelt entries of which have appeared in the admin’s Twitter feed. There is no intention, however, to establish any kind of association with the site. Interested readers can find slightly similar math-life themes in the book versions of Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 (82년생 김지영) and The Devotion of Suspect X (容疑者Xの献身).

sunflowers, breaking clichés and faraway lovers

Hero trudges back home, her foot kicking up some mud on this lonely strip of road. She can't decide if she's happy or frustrated that nothing ever happens where she lives, not even villains, as if they don't find this place appealing enough to even visit.

She decides, after a moment, that maybe it's both. She's both happy that she doesn't have to deal with villains here, that this is the one constant place that she has in her life, and she's also a little frustrated that nothing ever happens here, and everywhere you see are familiar faces. She kind of wishes her town had the tradition to were masks like people in Jaoanese festivals do, so that it would at least bring some novelty into this place. Or she wishes that she can spot a new face somewhere, but the only face she wants to see right now is that of her partner's.

The wind blows to the left, and she turns to look. That's the path that leads to the sunflower field, one of her all time favourite places. She takes out her phone as the wind pushes her further to the field, holding the device in front of her face, trying to get a nice angle. Click. She opens villain’s chat and hits the send button, with a yellow heart emoji attached to the picture. She then sits down at the edge of the field, legs dangling, eyes taking in the spectacular view in front of her. This is probably the only place I'll never get tired of, even if it's the same ten years from now, she thinks.

Hero’s phone vibrates in her pocket, and she pulls it out to see a message from villain. She opens the chat — smiling softly.

V: This looks so beautiful!! Is this the sunflower field that you always talk about? Thank you for the picture baby💛

Hero takes a moment to swoon. She loves it when villain calls her baby, and she has a feeling that they know that too.

H: Yes it is, one of my favourite places ever! I wish I could show this to you someday.

There it is, hero thinks. This ache that mixes up with the bubbly feelings in her chest because her lover lives in an entirely different continent away from her and there's nothing either of them can do about it for now. It's this sizzling agony that's there right under her skin, keeping her awake at night sometimes.

V: That sounds lovely. I would love to see it.

And then hero’s smiling, grinning. So much that her cheeks start to hurt and those blue feelings inside her chest slowly melt away, leaving her with this happy, giddy haze. Somewhere inside, the logical part of her speaks — what is even happening ?

Hero ignores that and just stares at the wide expanse of the field in front of her, beautifully painted by the sun setting on the horizon behind. She lets her mind wander to villain, her lover whom she's never met but knows — because one doesn't have to meet to know someone right? Of course hero aches to meet them, just like all the lovers in ancient texts do. She's no different. So she tries to meet them in her imagination at least- one hand in their soft, brown hair, while the other cups their cheek, tender with that natural blush that drives her crazy; and then villain's hands are in her hair, tangling her long back strands but she can't find it in herself to care one bit —

Her phone buzzes again and hero’s pulled out of that soft world in her mind, back to the real one. Her eyes take in her surroundings once again, noticing the changes. The sky is inky blue, like deep ocean waters and the sun is nowhere to be seen . The sunflowers that were all looking at the sun like dedicated devotees, have now turned to look at their loved ones next to them instead, and settle in their arms for the night. Hero looks at her phone, her mind working in two angles — one thinking about this fact that she read about sunflowers somewhere while the other focuses on villain’s chat box.

V: You'll have to fight supervillain later this evening right?

Hero groans as she remembers her pressing duties to this city — fighting supervillains, protecting the civilians, being the symbol of justice. It's only in the short time that she spends with villain — in their chatbox, occasional phone calls, when she thinks of villain, that she feels like a normal twenty something, just living her life and falling in love with someone breathtakingly amazing.

H: You're always more updated about my schedule than I am xD But yeah, I have to.

Hero imagines villain’s mouth, unable to decide between their usual smirk or rare soft smiles. She wonders what expression they're wearing right now.

V: Of course I am. That's one thing technology is good for.

Hero chuckles, simply happy that villain even bothers to keep track of all of this.

V: Fight safely and vigilantly okay? Trust your gut feelings, they're always valid. Your feelings are always valid.

Hero clutches her phone tight in her hand, trying to bury her face into her own arms. Her heart performs this dance everytime villain does stuff like this, and she never knows how to handle it.

H: Thank you my love❤ I'm a little nervous of course, but I think I'll be okay. I can do this.

Hero knows there's no point in putting up a front or lying to villain. They always know somehow. And hero thinks that she doesn't want to lie — she's always putting up a front for the world, the people, her opponents. So she wants at least this one person in the entire world to know who she really is, in all her silly, anxious and raw glory.

V: You'll be fine baby. You're an amazing fighter and I believe in you.

Okay, that's it. Hero feels like her entire body is on fire and she forces herself to look away from the phone screen at the field in front of her so that her fingers don't start doing this embarrassing keysmash that people generally seem to do when they're embarrassed. Does she want to do that? She thinks she'd rather avoid it. Or at least try to.

That's when her mind supplies that fact about sunflowers that it was trying to remember. When the sun is not visible, the sunflowers turn towards one another, as if the sun is just a fever dream that is abandoned as soon as it dips below the horizon, and the only real things that exist in the world are the flowers themselves and their partners who exist right beside them. Hero watches as the wind gently coaxes them, one flower falling into another and vice versa, as they hold each other and dance while the first stars form constellations in the sky. Hero thinks how beautiful this is, that there is a whole universe beyond clichés, that a sunflower doesn't have to achingly wait for a sun that will never belong to it, but instead the world is for its taking as it falls in love with the flower next to it — one that will return its feelings.

And all of a sudden, hero is overwhelmed by this weird emotion in her chest. She can't name it, she's always been bad with names. But sitting here and looking at these sunflowers breaking clichés makes her heart soar for some inexplicable reason. It's like nature is telling her that nothing else matters other than feelings that are respected and returned.

She opens villain's chat and starts typing in everything that she's realised in the past minute with increased fervour, afraid that all of these thoughts would just up and disappear into a puff of nothing because nothing is really everlasting — except this one moment. And she plans to make the best of it. She types the last letter, then attaches a close-up picture of two sunflowers with tangled petals facing one another and hits send.

Villain takes a minute to reply, but it brings the brightest smiles to hero's face regardless.

V: I don't know if you even realise this, but I just love the way you fucking think ❤ The sunflowers seem like they could pass for humans themselves don't they? Because I just find this whole thing alarmingly human — the way we have our hearts on our sleeves when we know no one else is looking, for that one person.

Hero sighs happily, she didn't think feeling understood could feel this liberating. It's definitely one of those feelings that people can get high on , she thinks. Damn, she thinks she's definitely getting high on this herself.

H: Thank you love, I love the way you think too! And I do agree, the sunflowers are humans xD (plus ten heart emojis).

A few more minutes go by and hero receives another message from villain with this attached picture:

there's a hand (hero guesses it's villain’s hand) holding two violet flowers together (so they look like they're hugging) with this caption —

I had to chase away two ducks for this picture, because these flowers were apparently their evening snack. How cool is that?

And hero’s full blown laughing now, the clutching-your-stomach kind of laughing and she hopes that the laughing emoji on her phone would do this justice. Probably not.

—

Here's the live coverage of Hero vs Supervillain-

The newsreader reads live from the venue and villain’s eyes refuse to leave the tv screen for even a single moment. They watch as their hero holds her ground against such a powerful foe and villain’s heart fills up to the brim with a mix of fondness and pride. They don't feel the rest of the evening pass by, as they sit and watch the entire live coverage without as much as even getting up.

Hero emerges victorious, and she has a few surface injuries here and there, some nasty looking gashes but she's standing there and she's alive and she's okay and villain finally lets out a breath that they didn't even know they were holding.

That's their strong, sweet and kind hero and villain can't be happier to call her their girlfriend.

Hellooo there lovely people!! I know it's been a long while since I posted (that's because life is pretty hectic rn) but I finally found some time to write (and procrastinate, but that's the usual lol). So what's new is that I've given you all some female rep, because I just realised that I haven't really written much female mc content. So I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and thank you for your support as always - means a lot<3