Ink pens: serious business.
The Mary Sue tipped us to the funny Amazon review shenanigans surrounding the Bic “For Her” pens, because apparently pens need to induce gender role limitations. I thought they were tubes with black ink in them, and you pick the ones you like. Au contraire. Bic just punched me in my supergay face for liking aqua and purple colored objects and schooled me something
fierce not-fierce-because-that-sounds-kinda-gay. Black ink pens with purple, aqua, or pink barrels are GIRLS ONLY. Thanks, Bic, for showing me the error of my liking-some-colors ways.
Thankfully, any time a product strikes people as strange, we can rely on seeing funny fake Amazon reviews about it. In this case, reviewers at Amazon UK posted totally legit reviews of the Bic “For Her” black ink pens. Some of our favorite reviews can be found on the next page.
Revolutionary article – must buy!
This pen is great. I bought it for all my female friends and relatives. It enabled them, finally, to write things (although they may not yet know to do so on paper; but you can only expect so much, really). I thought they were just a bit slow.
My mother, a hard-working woman who raised twelve kids single-handedly whilst doing all the ironing (as nature intended), was furtively abashed by her illiteracy. Long would she gaze upon her husband and sons’ scrawlings and would dedicate five minutes a day (which she really should have spent making sandwiches) to pray that one day she would be granted the ability to create such scribbles of her own. She’s still a little slow on the uptake, but this product has definitely helped start the ball rolling. We tried to give her men’s pens but she used to rip the cartridges out and drink the ink. Typical woman.
Anyway, it’s good that BIC are finally doing something to aid the plight of women. Hopefully a range of ‘for her’ paperclips is on the horizon – my wife has an awful time keeping her recipes together
Doesn’t work very well
I tried these on a whim, and I have to say I wasn’t very impressed. The applicator mechanism is far too fiddly, and the plastic tampon inside far too thin (not to mention uncomfortable and non-absorbant) – I’m sure there must be a knack to using them, but I couldn’t find it. They also stained my knickers blue for some reason. I really wanted to like these, but it’s back to pads for me.
Now my moustache is, as it is for many men, a source of constant pride. Ofttimes I’ll get up in the morning and spend 30 minutes or so preening it, teasing out any errant hairs that may have popped up overnight ruining its perfection, combing it thoroughly, etc etc. It is a shrine to mine own manliness, the spirit animal through which I feel all my masculinity is channelled.
SO IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when, whilst doing this morning’s cryptic in the Telegraph, I ran the pen in my left hand over my top lip for it to create a pop of static energy so powerful as to knock me from my chair, one of my loafers popping off my foot and crashing into a vase on the opposite side of the room. LUCKILY the vase wasn’t broken, but it did create an awful cacophony that startled the cat and quite alarmed my wife of 16 years, Mavis, who then came scuttling in. Seeing me sprawled out on the floor like a sailor on shore leave, my wife panicked…that is up until she saw the pen in my hand.
“Jeremy,” she said, laughing fulsomely, “that is a lady’s pen, what the devil were you thinking?”
I had little by way of a response, still reeling from the dangerous reaction of something so feminine touching something so masculine as I was. I spluttered out a couple of curses, and scrambled to my feet, putting the waifish pen down in exchange for something far more hardy. Two days have since elapsed, and still I am submitted to the indignity of seeing my wife looking at me during every meal like an orphan with a damned silly hat on, a faint laugh slipping from her lips.
This humiliation WILL NOT STAND. A pen marketed solely for women is, ABOVE ALL ELSE, a dangerous thing. Society relies on certain boundaries being maintained, and this product enables behaviour which is, quite simply, IMPROPER. I trust the manufacturers to do the decent thing and remove the product from the market.
So confused – so very confused
I am a huge fan of the gender binary. Without it, it’s very hard to work out who to oppress. I therefore decided to purchase some razors so I could remove a great deal of hair which was growing out of my body on places such as my shins. I thought this would make me look smooth like a baby, and vulnerable, and also different and deferent to men, so that they could feel I was complimenting and complementing them.
I knew that bic made razors, so I searched and found ‘bic for her’ – this seemed to solve my problem – I am on a low budget so was looking for cheap disposable razors – the slicing off of goosebumps seem mere collateral damage in my quest to appear feminine.
I saw these ‘bic for her’ with their pink box and was so relieved the cheap razors would not sully my bathroom with their orange glare – I was reluctant to run the risk of being misgendered by overnight guests.
And then they arrived and were pens.
My life has been changed!
I never did very well at school. I wanted to learn and it felt like all the words I needed were right there in my head, but I just couldn’t get them onto the paper in front of me. If I really pushed myself, I could sometimes manage to draw pretty flowers in the margins but this didn’t please Sir and I was soon in all the bottom sets. What really confused me is that I had no problems in cookery or textiles. At the time I didn’t understand why I could grip and use a wooden spoon or sewing needle but couldn’t properly hold my black-coloured pen for more than 45 seconds without dropping it on the floor and weeping.
Things were a bit better when I left school to go and work sweeping up hair at the local salon – yet again, the broom seemed to just fit into my grip as if it was meant to be there – and I saved up to buy a pink laptop. I still had trouble writing for a long time because, although the case was pink, the keys weren’t designed for female eyes which, as we all know, struggle to discern between shades of black and grey. I could write for about 4 minutes at a time, though, and that’s how I found out about these wonderful pens for girls like me.
As soon as they arrived, I was soothed by the pink packaging – I’d been feeling stressed after driving back from work because my hands just won’t stay on the black, leather-effect steering wheel in my cute mini. Anyway, I quickly found a piece of notepaper with pictures of kittens round the edges and had a go at writing my name. It was amazing! The pen just stayed in place between my fingers, just like it always had for the boys in my class at school. Well, in no time I’d filled a whole notepad and had to go and get another one!
Now I’ve gone back to night school and hope to realise my ambition of enrolling on a childcare course next year. I’m also halfway through writing an erotic novel set in Victorian times – but with vampires!
My only criticism of these wonderful pens is that I get a bit bored with all 12 looking the same. I get around this my customising each pack. At the moment, the pen I have in use is covered in stripes of glitter and I glued a pink pompom and one of those diamanté charms you get on mobile phones (I couldn’t fit any more on my phone) onto the top. I think BIC should start adding pens like this to their range because some women find it difficult to hold tubes of superglue properly – I asked the 6 year old boy who lives next door to help me.
I thought this would work like all the similar products I’ve bought in the past, but I keep urinating on it and it won’t turn pink *OR* blue!