When I first saw Little Women I was surprised by how big the women were. I quickly got over my shock when I realized that the cast of sisters formed a near matryoshka order of declining height, teaching the audience the valuable lesson that women can and should organize themselves based on a hierarchy of size.
At a monstrous 5’9”, Greta Gerwig should know better than to exploit her diminutive sisters. Gerwig stands on the shoulders of little (female) giants. Forget the wage gap, let’s close the height gap. I propose that all women under 5’6″ should be allowed to see Little Women free of charge.
As a little woman, I can only afford to carry a single dollar bill at any given time for fear that a stiff breeze might carry it, and by relation me, far away from my friends and family. You can imagine how this has made supporting the film a challenge. It took me five weeks and three days to see the movie twice, going back and forth between my apartment and the local AMC to gather up enough cash. I took on the burden, knowing Little Women would be my Mecca.
I should not have to suffer just because my tiny, pea-sized hands could never take the strain of holding the wallet of a gigantic, 5’6” woman. And to all you nay-sayers out there who say the height requirement should be lowered to reflect the fact that the average American woman is 5’4″, I spit on you. As someone who is 5’5″ and once fell into a washing machine while doing laundry, I am the ultimate little woman and demand compensation for my suffering.
