While I'm happy to raise my voice for something I believe in at the drop of a placard, there are numerous reasons why I did not make the trip to Byron for the Slutwalk march.
For those who missed it, Slutwalk is a global protest, started in response to a Canadian male security guard's comments to university students that if young women didn't want to be raped then they shouldn't dress like sluts.
I am a feminist and I support actions that give women more choice.
I don't believe in blaming the victim - for rape or any other violent crime.
And I don't believe that what you wear should ever make you a target.
But I also don't believe in pandering to the sort of Grrrrll power spin that tells you in order to get attention you need to compete with other women and dress 'sexy' or 'nasty' - the Katy Perry type of feminism, that has about as much substance and originality as her music.
As my friend and much more knowledgeable feminist Catherine says, it's about the male gaze - and simpering to the lascivious manufactured view of what men want isn't my idea of feminism at all, in fact I think it's several giant stiletto totters backwards.
Perhaps I'm a grumpy old woman before my time but over the past few years I've seen enough of other people's underwear hiked up above their clothes to feel like it's the last thing that needs a march to promote it.
And surely the silly opinion of one man doesn't warrant response from cities all over the western world (presumably the developing world has bigger issues like poverty, sustainability, looking after the least advantaged… hmmm, don't we have those too?).
Clothing and appearance have long been tools for those in power to oppress those without power, including women and I recognise that the women's movement has often been associated with symbolic actions about clothing - burning bras, blue stockings.
But in this case I don't feel like it's about throwing off the shackles of oppression so much as choosing your own sequinned cage.
Dress how you want, feel good about yourself - but don't try and tell me wearing trashy clothing and high heels is a feminist action. Call it what it is: women competing for attention about their appearance.
It raises the same sort of ambivalence in me as burlesque - tar and feather boa me but if you're taking your clothes off to music, it's stripping, even if you give it a French name.
Do it if you want to, if you feel it empowers you - I, for one, won't judge - but, again, be honest about it.
I'd rather see some other French words to represent my sort of feminism: Liberté, Egalité, Sororité!