Pictures shot from below are seen to represent powerful people, while those shot from above are seen to represent less powerful people. The media therefore can change how we feel about individuals with just a bit of clever photography. This might all sound a bit obvious, but what you might not think about so much is how this influences our perceptions of gender.

In their experiments, Dr Steffen R. Giessner, Associate Professor at Rotterdam School of Management, Erasmus University (RSM), and his colleagues found that there are more photographs of women in advertisements, newspapers and magazines shot from above than from below, while the opposite is true for men.

Looking down on the lovely Jennifer Aniston

All these camera angles therefore reinforce our perception that men are powerful and women are not, strengthening our stereotyped ideas that women cannot become leaders.

Cowering in the shadow of the mighty Barack Obama

“Such simple associations of power and angle of shot do not take place in a social vacuum,” said Giessner. “Rather, context related to power (such as within organisations, or portraying the 100 most important people in the world) easily trigger our thinking about power. As a result we may consciously or unconsciously use cues to show the attribution of power in a picture.” He concludes: “While it is the job of researchers to uncover such effects, it is the job of the media to decide when to use and when not to use such subtle cues.”

So there you go.

Have a look for yourself – flick through a magazine or newspaper and notice the camera angles. Are there more women shot from above? Does a simple picture change the assumptions you make about people?

…

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I should clarify – this is how she describes herself, not me passing judgment.

For a while now I’ve been following, in a completely non pervy way, the sexual exploits of Betty Herbert, whose blog has recently become a book – The 52 Seductions. I was absolutely delighted then when Betty agreed to be a guest on my blog, talking about her writing experiences.

She has also very generously offered to give away a signed copy of her book to one lucky reader, so if you fancy learning a few new moves, just leave a thoughtful comment on this post over the next week, and a winner will be picked at random. Over to Betty…

…

I am possibly the world’s most unlikely sex blogger.

Setting aside the fact that, when I started writing The 52 Seductions, I hadn’t had sex for four months, there were other issues that didn’t weigh in my favour. For example, I would cross the road to avoid anything vaguely sexy in books or on TV. And, frankly, I found adults who were ‘into’ sex more than a little bit creepy.

But then, those were the very issues that made me think I ought to take action. I had been with my husband Herbert for fifteen years and somehow, sex had become something of an embarrassment between us. It certainly hadn’t always been that way. But as the years passed, I began to feel like there was no place for sex in our happy, fraternal relationship. We just didn’t fit into the roles of lovers anymore.

That’s not to say that I didn’t miss sex – I did. It’s just that it seemed like an impossibility. Every few months, we’d both lament the lack of lust in our relationship, but neither of us had a clue how to fix it. And I felt sure that other people were going through the same thing – although every time I tried to start a conversation about it with friends, I was met with blank stares. Once married, it seems that sex becomes a secret.

But then, one night while staying in a hotel, we managed to break our dry spell – and it was good. So good, in fact, that it shook me into taking action. I couldn’t afford to lose this forever. The idea of seducing each other once a week for a year popped into my head unbidden, and seemed like an excellent plan, except for the fact that I knew we’d never stick to it.

That’s when I decided I’d have to blog about it. It was a way of holding myself accountable, and not allowing us both to discreetly ‘forget’ the whole project after a fortnight. And as it happened, my readers gave me so much more than I could ever have imagined. They doled out helpful tips, shared their own experiences, encouraged me to try harder, and occasionally told me off when I was being flaky.

Gradually, I became less horrified by the idea of sex. But still, I was always conscious that a few short months before, I would not have read my own blog. I now see that it’s because I was afraid of so many things – that I’d be shocked; that I’d be offended; that I’d feel inadequate and incompetent. The politics of sex in recent years had made me anxious. I needed to understand all over again that I could feel sexy to myself without being a Jordan-clone.

Nowadays, I’m prone to startling friends with conversational openers such as, ‘I just discovered this brilliant new range of vibrators!’ The old me would have run screaming for the hills. But the new me is just a bit more chilled. It’s still not the case that I’m up for anything, but now that I’ve got over my fears, I trust myself to say, ‘That’s not for me,’ rather than, ‘that’s disgusting!’

You can also find Betty on facebook and twitter

And yes, there is a cynical part of me that thinks it’s just a publicity stunt from Sainsbury’s, but frankly I don’t care. Either their customer service or their marketing department are brilliant. High fives to Sainsbury’s.

Indeed. Such tact and diplomacy these teenagers have.

“You just like it though when I write down funny things that you’ve said don’t you?” I replied.

“Well yeah, cos that’s the only bit that’s funny.”

I decide to call her bluff. “Go on then,” I challenge her, “say something funny.”

“Do you want to hear some dead baby jokes?”

“No.”

“Well I can’t be funny like that just on the spot can I?” she flaps. “Urgh, OK, hang on, I know…”

There’s a long pause, while she straightens her face and composes herself, and then she whispers, “Boobies!”

Hilarious.

“Oooh, oooh, I’ve got a joke!” she says. “What do you call a dog with no face?”

“I don’t know, what do you call a dog with no face?”

“Dog-not-face!” She collapses into hysterical giggles. “What do you call a cat with no face?”

“Cat-not-face?” I hazard a wild guess.

“Yes! How did you know?” She’s bent double now. I’m clearly missing something. “What do you call cheese with no face?”

Good grief.

“Normal cheese!” she say. “Cheese doesn’t have a face you know.”

“Well thank you darling, that was all wonderful,” I say. “I shall go and write it all down now before I forget, I’m sure it will be a big hit.”

“Will you call it ‘The one where Bee is hilarious’?” she shouts after me, as I disappear off to find my laptop.

“Absolutely.”

…

Well meaning as they may be, the kind of people who tell you just to ‘try and be a bit more positive about things’ really just don’t get it.

Or do they? Can the way you think about things change the way you feel?

There’s a lot of research that says that positive thinking can actually have a direct impact on happiness, and that practising being grateful really can make you feel better about your life. A quick google search came up with this interesting article from Oliver Burkeman, about thinking yourself happy, which really explains it all much better than I could, so instead I’m just going to show you a picture:

Do you like it?

I do. It makes me think of a cross between ‘every cloud has a silver lining’ and ‘rose tinted glasses’ – it’s a sunny orange tinted rain storm. Even when the skies look grey there is always something to be grateful for, even if it’s just the fact that you have an umbrella.

To be honest, I don’t know anything about phones, so have no idea if an LG Optimus 3D Black is a Good Thing, but I do know it retails at over £400 SIM free, and it looks very snazzy to me, so I’m sure it must be just lovely. See:

This is the official blurb:

Enjoy crystal-clear, eye-popping 3D imagery courtesy of the Optimus smartphone from LG. There’s no need for glasses with this handset, just shoot, show and share videos or pictures all with the added bonus of High-definition 3D.

The Optimus is the world’s first mobile to feature dual core, dual channel and dual memory technology. This means high speed smooth processing for games, movies and other applications. What’s more, as this HTC mobile is installed with Android 2.2 you can be sure of a reliable and powerful operating system. With a huge 8GB of memory also included, the HTC Optimus is everything you could want from a smartphone.

‘Crystal-clear, eye-popping 3D imagery’? Sounds awesome doesn’t it? The phone has been given to me by Tesco, to promote their capped tariff, which is designed to save you money, by making sure you never go over your monthly spending limit. You can find out more here, should you so wish.

As this is such a fantabulous competition, I’m going to give you a few different ways to enter. The only one you have to do, is leave a comment on this post, with an idea for something you’d be interested to read about on my blog in the future. If you’d like extra chances to win, you can have one entry for each of the following:

• Sign up to get my posts by email
• Like Slummy single mummy on facebook and share this post with your friends
• Follow me on twitter, and tell all your twitter chums about me
• Bring me round a packet of hobnobs

You’ve got until 31st January to enter, and then a winner will be chosen at random.

Good luck!

It’s such a tease isn’t it? How could you not want to touch it, just to see? What is it about us that makes us want to do things we know are only going to be unpleasant?

Smells are the same. How many times as a child did you say ‘Ergh, this stinks!’ only to have a swarm of eager friends gather round, all desperate for a sniff of whatever the offending item might be?

So, with this terribly subtle psychology in mind, I thought I’d do a little bit of book promotion. It’s not my book, and I’ve not even read it, so it might be terrible for all I know, but the author, Mr Shev, writes one of my favourite blogs, so chances are it will be alright. It’s about two brothers who one day decide to rob a bank, even though they don’t really want to and don’t know how. Sounds ace already doesn’t it? Plus you seem to be able to download it for the princely sum of zero pence at the moment, so what have you got to lose?

Work of genius?

I’ve hosted a couple of guest posts recently about choosing baby names, but today I want to talk about titles.

The BBC are reporting today of a town in France that has banned the use of the word Mademoiselle, on the back of a nationwide campaign by feminist groups to ban the word everywhere.

I am behind them 100% and all in favour of a similar spring clean of values in this country.

Why on earth in a society that claims to strive for gender equality would you discriminate between men and women in such an obvious way? Why should women have to define themselves by their marital status, by calling themselves Miss or Mrs, while men are allowed to be a Mr regardless of whether they are married or not?

And yes I know there is always Ms, and I do use it, but while Miss and Mrs still exist, Ms is always regarded as a bit odd isn’t it? When you use Ms, you’re seen to be making some sort of point, and are clearly a bitter spinster feminist type trying to defend the fact that you can’t bag yourself a hubby.

When the European Parliament banned the use of the terms ‘Miss’ and ‘Mrs’ in 2009, there was uproar, with male MEPs calling it ‘political correctness gone mad’ and vowing to ignore the ruling. Many of the key national papers took the same stance, choosing to ridicule the ban, and reporting it in the context of what are clearly regarded as similarly bizarre rulings, such as the straightening of bananas and the multi-lingual instruction requirements for rubber boots.

The argument against the French campaign is that the whole thing is trivial. It’s just a word right? What does it really matter in the context of struggling for equal pay, pension rights and women’s representation in government?

It may be just a word, but the fact that it is seen as normal and acceptable for women to be asked to define themselves at such a basic level, based purely on the state of their personal lives, reflects deeply ingrained attitudes that need to be challenged. How can we expect pay, pensions and politics to change when we can’t even address something as fundamental as this?

She had her friend from Number 2 round to help and I must admit to being a little anxious as they made me lie on the floor on the special ‘massage rug’. A lot of her stones are quite scratchy and I wasn’t sure exactly what the massaging would entail.

Fortunately there was to be no rubbing involved, as Belle explained. “We’re going to place each crystal carefully on different parts of your body,” she told me, “so close your eyes.”

I did as I was told, and tried to ignore the draft coming from under the door, which wasn’t exactly adding to the whole relaxed vibe. “Just put them anywhere,” I heard Belle whisper to her friend. Scientific stuff obviously.

“How do you feel then?” Belle asked, when she’d balanced the last stone on my chin. “Are you relaxed?”

“Oh yes, very,” I assured her, as her friend tripped over one of my feet and several crystals rolled off my thigh and onto the floor.

“OK, well just lie there with your eyes closed until I say time’s up,” I was instructed. “It’s meant to last for five minutes, but we don’t have a watch, so we’ll just guess how long we think that is.”

Fair enough.

Thirty seconds in…

“Are you relaxed?”

“Yes thank you!”

Another minute…

“Still relaxed?”

“Yes.”

Another minute…

“Are you feeling relaxed still?”

“Yes,” I said, “although I might feel more relaxed if you didn’t keep asking me how relaxed I am.”

Another minute…

“Time’s up!” they screeched, causing me to flinch and knock the rose quartz off my forehead. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes thank you,” I said, “very much.”

“Good! Now you just have to drink a bottle of this crystal water we made”…