So according to this article off Slate, there is apparently “no evidence of the stereotype of a white male preference for East Asian women.” Of course, this is a study done via speed-dating events with subjects who attend Columbia grad school in New York fucking City. Maybe not totally representative, perhaps?

Jezebel disagrees with the findings too. According to Moe:

“There are a few reasons some dudes prefer Asian women, and it starts with the fact that they are very rarely unattractive, and they are even more rarely stupid, and they are even more rarely than that fat. They have really nice skin and they’re not afraid to tell you yours looks bad.”

Well, I won’t argue otherwise, but I will say that there are a whole boatload (full of refugees!) of reasons why an Asian fetish definitely exists, starting with cultural representations in American media. Whether it’s across-the-board hotness (something I kind of doubt to be honest) or notions of subservience (more likely), this is not just a made-up phenomenon. I don’t need to recount every instance of being asked “Where in Asia are you from?” or each instance of being hit on via a “ni hao ma” to prove my point.

I’ll post more on how annoyed I get by all this ridiculous stuff later, but any reader thoughts on the topic of yellow fever? Sometimes I question whether I’m being overly sensitive but even most of my non-Asian friends seem to agree that it exists.

I recommend that readers check out DJ Kammy Kam’s latest post, concerning the Western beauty ideals imposed upon African American women. His blog borrows the name of an India.Arie song, “I Am Not My Hair,” for its title. I suppose it’s fitting that he’s now addressing beauty standards by using hair texture as a springboard.

Sometime mid-summer, I sent CK the India.Arie song above. I thought she’d appreciate it, since she’s in the minority of black women who do not relax their hair. I am actually a big fan of her afro. For all its knots and kinks, her locks are infinitely more interesting and lively than my pin-straight mane. Her hair has a “don’t mess with me” attitude, just like her. That same attitude is why she would never douse it in chemicals or straighten it against its will. But CK’s perspective isn’t exactly popular. She’s probably one of a handful of black women at Harvard who leave their hair in its natural state.

“Unfortunately, we live in the United States,” said one friend trying to explain the phenomenon to me. But I found myself unable to relate. At least when it comes to beauty standards, it’s a hell of a lot easier for me to conform to Western ideals than black women. Yellow, after all, is closer to white than any other color. To be honest, I can’t even think of many physical insecurities I have that white women don’t share. I wish my breasts were bigger and my waist slimmer, but I don’t have kinky hair and my skin color is the perfect shade of California tan.

Still, there’s a whole other set of pressures that come with being Asian and a “foreign” look is one of them. The physical characteristic that most significantly separates white and Asian women is the shape of their eyes. That’s one of the few things I can’t change no matter how many visits to the beauty salon. But thanks to cosmetic surgery, Asian women can now widen their eyes or surgically create an eyelid fold if they so wish — it’s an outpatient procedure. It’s also the most popular cosmetic operation in Japan (decidedly the most Westernized Asian country). From an American perspective, it sounds atrocious but in Asia, it’s as commonplace and accepted as … well, relaxing your hair in America. If CK’s afro is what separates her look from the mainstream, then my eyes are the Asian equivalent.

Last week, I woke up from a nap in a cold sweat. I had a terrible nightmare that CK relaxed her hair without consulting me. With a shoulder-length, artificially straight cut, she looked nothing like herself. In the dream, I was so upset that I started lecturing her and demanded an explanation for how she could sell out. In my conscious state, I’m amused by how angry I was, considering that I’m more superficial than she is by far. Between the two of us, I’m definitely the conformist. But maybe that’s why I found myself so outraged. As looks-conscious as I am, I admire her willingness to rebel. She fights a fight I’m not willing to take on myself. And if CK would give up that feisty poof of hair in the face of external pressure, then who will society tame next?

If I slow down, I might implode. I went to sleep at 6am and woke up at 10am this morning despite my best efforts. I only have class on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays — a minor miracle at Harvard for a sophomore.

My blockmates and I have decided that we need our own reality TV show. We’d probably be the most hated women on television but we’d certainly be amusing to watch. MF has informed Maggie that the only reason she keeps us around as friends is for “sheer entertainment value.” Which we usually deliver on.

This weekend has been the most eventful thus far, and as Terra said, “I think sophomore year is getting off to a great start!” By great, she means that every one of my blockmates has managed to to create some drama of their own. Even goody goody Sue (the only one who is currently spoken for) has stirred up controversy with our much-talked about girl-on-girl kiss. I don’t know what the big deal is, but we have tons of guys wagging their tongues at the mere thought. It’s probably due to the fact that we’re both Asian.

I also just realized that I’m really attracted to Asian women. I think I have yellow fever. Everyday, I sound more like a sketchy upperclassmen guy. I’ll end this post with a screenshot from one of my favorite movies. Saving Face has a beautiful lesbian couple (in addition to the always gorgeous Joan Chen) and is legitimately a great film, hot sex scene or not. I highly recommend it for anyone who can relate to having an overbearing Asian mother.