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Katherine Fritz
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Katherine Fritz is a writer, teacher, and costume designer based in Philadelphia. Her blogs "I Am Begging My Mother Not To Read This Blog" and "Ladypockets" have garnered wide critical acclaim and thousands of readers. She's a regular contributor at MTV Style, where she blogs about the intersection between fashion and feminism.

Entries by Katherine Fritz

An Illustrated Guide to Feminism

(49) Comments | Posted December 15, 2014 | 9:21 AM

I posted an article on my personal blog recently that received feedback in the comments section. It questioned my definition of feminism as "simplistic." I had cribbed mine from Merriam-Webster and Google:

Feminism (n): advocacy of women's rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality...

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These Are the People in Your Neighborhood

(0) Comments | Posted November 24, 2014 | 10:01 AM

It took about two years before Francis cracked a smile with me. He's in his late 50s or early 60s, Caribbean accent, grey afro, permanent scowl. I see him, depending on my work schedule -- I am a freelance costume designer -- sometimes as often as five times a week....

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Here Is What You Do When You Are Grieving

(7) Comments | Posted June 22, 2014 | 10:18 AM

You spend some time curled into tiny spaces. They are useful for this. Big, open rooms give you too much space for your wild thoughts to tangle and knot. If you curl yourself into a small place and sit there, you will ultimately feel cramped or foolish or angry enough...

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Dating Is the Worst, and Other Scientific Facts

(214) Comments | Posted September 24, 2013 | 9:24 AM

This weekend, I had the opportunity to see the play Pay Up here in Philadelphia by the inimitable Pig Iron Theatre Company. If you're looking for a review, you won't find it here, other than to say -- if you live in this city and if you can,...

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Try Anyways

(9) Comments | Posted September 20, 2013 | 1:44 PM

"I hope you don't mind the question, but how old are you?" asks my friend. We're sitting in a quiet coffee shop, her feet curled up on the chair. We're sweaty, sipping iced coffees through a straw, wondering about it all.

"Not at all. I'm 27. About to be...

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