The Limitless She Buffet
她(女)的(權)
無(自)限(助)放(餐)題
In Taiwanese online discourse, the phrase “eating the feminist buffet” ( 吃女權自助餐 ) has become a common insult, used to accuse women of being inconsistent—advocating for gender equality in some situations while enjoying traditional privileges in others.
The term originated from American comedian Bill Burr, who mocked this behavior in a stand-up performance:
All they (the girls) want is the good shit of being a guy. They're cherry‑picking. They're looking at guys' life like it's a buffet, right? Like you just could start picking out stuff, like ‘Same amount an hour? we'll take some of that. Pay for the movie? Fuck that—you can keep that.’
What began as a sarcastic jab gradually morphed—through translation and repetition—into a form of language that no longer allows for contradiction or vulnerability. It doesn't ask how power operates. It doesn't care about the trade-offs behind those so-called “choices.”
Instead, it sorts and labels women's experiences, flattening them into categories made for criticism.
The Limitless She Buffet emerges from this cultural moment—an attempt to reclaim the metaphor of the buffet, once used as insult, and reframe it as a space of perception and witnessing. This is a table already set: each “dish” is an untold story, waiting to be seen, remembered, and read.
The project was initiated by artist Tzu-en Hsu (Ani Syu), drawing on her lived experience of subtle gendered tension, relationship fatigue, and creative constraint. She transforms these into fictions and symbolic “dishes,“ which are served in an interactive buffet-style installation.
Here, viewing is no longer passive. It becomes a selection, a participation, a moment of shared weight, embodied in a thermal receipt that cannot be easily thrown away.
After completing the first series, Ani invited three female creators from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Korea to join this “limitless she buffet.” Each artist began with her own experiences, writing and conceptualizing three to four symbolic dishes, which Ani helped translate into physical forms for display.
These works move between truth and metaphor, text and object, memory and invention— they cannot be categorized, nor do they speak on behalf of any collective.
Just as this exhibition offers no conclusions, only experience.
It invites you to lead with feeling—
to read, and in reading, to take part in the daily tug-of-war and quiet negotiations: those subtle, sometimes piercing, aches of love and complicity that resist being named.