Toronto Women’s Bookstore just wouldn’t be itself without controversies big and small. The posters in the entryway, the emphatically non-Barbie dolls for sale, the number of shelves for transsexual/transgender issues versus those for environmentalism: as they prepare to celebrate the store’s 35th anniversary with readings, performances and dancing at the Gladstone this Saturday, there’s nothing TWB’s women (and trans men) won’t debate.

“Even if we thought that our business wasn’t tied to politics, the customers bring that with them. People want to know what our stance is on issues and why,” says co-manager janet romero. Like most of the 12 current staffers, romero got involved within the last five years, after the departure of long-time co-managers Anjula Gogia and May Lui. In the 1990s, the duo rescued the store from the financial brink by tapping into the college and university syllabus market (which now accounts for about 65 per cent of its revenue).

The new blood wants to avoid middle-aged complacency by taking more risks. This summer they hired their first outreach coordinator, Leah Newbold, a position that, like the store itself, is a commercial/community hybrid. Attending rallies, letter-writing, traditional marketing and sponsorships are all fair game. One of the coordinator’s first projects was helping Ryerson students counter-protest an anti-abortion group.

Feminist bookstores are well- known for their anguished decision-making. (See Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein’s “Feminist Bookstore” sketch on YouTube for a hilarious take on this.) In 1984, TWB refused to carry the lesbian porn magazine On Our Backs because of sadomasochistic images. “Not every idea thought by a feminist is indeed a feminist idea,” wrote the collective in a letter to the editor. “We as a bookstore will not promote the commercialized exploitation of women.”

In 2002, their “End the Occupation Now!” buttons attracted the ire of the National Council of Jewish Women and the Canadian Jewish Congress, which asked the staff, if they wouldn’t stop selling the buttons, to offer “Stop the Bombing!” buttons, too. While pornography-is-bad attitudes have largely dissolved, the Israel-Palestine issue remains a frequent deal-breaker. (“We believe people have a right to their land,” says romero.)

With the ethnically diverse staff’s increased focus on indigenous peoples, colonialism and anti-poverty, there are always new controversies. Transnational adoption, for example: the store doesn’t carry how-tos, but it does carry criticism. Are books containing first-person transnational adoption stories in or out? “I looked at them and I was like, ‘No.’ But somebody else thought they were OK,” says romero. “We put them at the front for people to review to see if it was right for us to carry.”

TWB knows how to lighten up, too. Lui, who still serves on the board, says first-timers are often surprised by the “fun but political things” the store sells. Finger puppets of Sappho, Marx and Harriet Tubman sit across the aisle from the diva cup, a silicone alternative to tampons and pads, and artisanal soaps. Still, it’s not all tchotchkes, rap sessions and utopian visions (such as taking over the much-coveted other half of the store’s Harbord Street duplex). Lui says people who fantasize about working in a bookstore forget a key fact — books are heavy.
“There’s a lot of lugging of boxes,” she laughs. “It’s dusty, sweaty and dirty. It’s hard work.”