There is a caveat to this review: I knew the author way back when she was a bogan from the backwaters with a frizzy perm. (I myself was a hick from the sticks with a frizzy perm.) I remember Tracey Spicer (The Real Tracey Spicer) in the late eighties as frank, funny and friendly, bright, energetic, bubbly and enthusiastic. It’s nice to see that while much has changed in her professional and personal life – while she has been advocating for change and empowering women and fighting discrimination and misogyny – what hasn’t changed is my perception of her after reading her memoir The Good Girl Stripped Bare (ABC Books HarperCollins Books Australia 2017). She is still down-to-earth, relatable, forthright and very, very funny.
I don’t need to summarise Tracey’s life in this review; for that you can buy the book, or at the very least borrow a copy from the library. Suffice to say that she covers her humble beginnings in Redcliffe, her education at the Queensland Institute of Technology (now QUT), her early career as a journalist, her rise to fame as a TV presenter, her battles with big organisations / employers for women’s rights, and her much-viewed TEDx talk on the female appearance / make-up / helmet hair and fake tans. The book also features her family – her two children, her husband, her mum, dad and sister – all of whom have been instrumental in encouraging her to become the role model she is now for thousands of women. We are also given some insight into her important work with charities and organisations that work on lifting women up out of poverty and abusive situations, agitate to change practices such as sexual mutilation and child marriage, and work towards improvements in the gender pay gap, the underrepresentation of women in media and leadership, and inequalities in employment and in domestic duties. Much like Jane Caro in Plain Speaking Jane, Tracey shouts from the rooftops that feminism is NOT a dirty word, that women support and inspire each other far more often than we put each other down, and that it is the responsibility of all of us who have the privilege of freedom, power, means, good health, wealth and opportunity to speak out and be the voice for those who don’t. If you are more fortunate, you have a greater responsibility to share the love.
Tracey has achieved amazing success. She has broken big news stories, stood up to corporate bullies, and sided with the weak and vulnerable. She is a vocal supporter for the right of women to choose (whether that be in the workplace, in parenting, in feminism, in sexuality) and for that choice – whatever it is – to be not only applauded, but to be scaffolded with laws and precepts that guarantee the woman’s right to make that decision.
In an age where women are pilloried no matter our choices – whether we try to do it all, or whether we choose to focus on one path – it is refreshing to hear such solid support for living your own authentic life. This book reminds us that it is okay to expect more, okay to want more, and okay to demand more, not only for ourselves but for our children - both boys and girls. It celebrates the luxury of choice but cautions that on the sliding scale of equal rights for all, there is always more to be done, not only in other countries but right here at home.
Tracey demystifies the ‘good girl’ (as opposed to the good woman) as a label that we should neither aspire to nor fall victim to, especially when applied by others attempting to keep us ‘in our place’.
I firmly believe that behind every good woman there is a tribe of other good women watching her back (and telling her if she has spinach in her teeth). Tracey acknowledges this tribe and the individuals that have helped her along the way, and uses every opportunity to commend others for the groundwork they have laid for the rest of us.
This book is personal, open and honest; it is smart, sassy, serious and seriously funny.