I’m lucky enough to have a close group of amazing female friends, all of whom have supported me since I was a wee chubster of twelve. I love them all more than anything – we’ve been through family bereavements, break ups, coming outs and some seriously bad dye-jobs over the years and every time I see any of them my heart is immediately lifted. We encourage each other to be ambitious and courageous, and celebrate each other’s achievements with gusto (and alcohol). I’ve laughed with them over the stupidest shit in the whole world until I’ve been literally worried that I would die, like a victim of Joker gas.
We started the Jar Belles after becoming increasingly frustrated with the day to day bullshit sexism we encountered. We wanted to express ourselves but felt limited to ranting on Facebook or retweeting feminist celebs who had the kind of platform where it might actually make a difference. While social media activism has its place when done right, we wanted somewhere we could physically meet other feminists, to feel that we weren’t crazy or alone and speak and act with them. We wanted to reconnect to that old idea of sisterhood. This idea was prevalent during the 70s and 90s but where is it now? Local feminist groups were few and far between, with obscure or exclusive meeting arrangements, and one by one we ruled them out.