In the guise of a new feminist craze known as SlutWalking, riot grrrl attitude is making a comeback. For those against SlutWalking, who see it as nearly as bad as afternoon tea with Andy Gray (well-intentioned, maybe, but ultimately awful), the disagreement lies over whether it is possible or even desirable to reclaim the word "slut".

Gail Dines and Wendy J Murphy have quite rightly pointed out that the right to be called "slut" is not the be-all and end-all of feminist activism. But no one is suggesting it is. This move to embrace the word as a term of positive sexuality may currently be travelling across the world to the tune of the marching band, but it harks back to the dawn of the 1990s when musician Kathleen Hanna, unwilling figurehead for the riot grrrl movement and lead singer for Bikini Kill, went on stage with the word "slut" scrawled across her body. In doing this, she made a visceral, powerful statement about her sexuality. Her message was not "yes, I am a slut". It was this: "by reclaiming the derogatory terms that you use to silence my sexual expression, I dilute your power".

So far, so feminist. Unfortunately, not everybody got the memo.

Predictably, this slightly complex message about bolstering women's sexual power through use of misogynist insults was overlooked. Instead, as they became successful, riot grrrl bands were commodified, commercialised and eventually repackaged. Girl groups became known mostly as visions of unmitigated, unthreatening saccharinity. "Revolution girl style" was conflated with "girl power", real empowerment with relentlessly boring, soft-porn imitation.

It is awareness of the possibility of something similar that motivates Dines, Murphy and others who oppose SlutWalking. Instead of reclaiming "slut", those in opposition argue, let's continue to campaign for freedom of safe and consensual sexual expression for people of all genders, free from gender stereotypes – in which the very concept of sex being shameful is left looking as ridiculous as everything Nadine Dorries says and does.

It's fair criticism. On the other hand, their contention is that to reclaim the word in some way negates the efforts of those trying to eradicate the attitudes leading to such labels. I suspect that despite the tireless ongoing efforts of all kinds of feminists, there will always be those who use "slut" (or an equivalent) as a sexist put-down. Those people who reclaim the word as their own, however (un)successfully, may be proposing a different kind of solution to that advocated by those who would like to see the word fall from usage altogether – but they are not the problem. Nor, frankly, could they make the problem any worse than it already is.

Dines and Murphy also suppose that the drive to reclaim the word wastes "precious feminist resources", but the fact is that this kind of fun, young, fresh feminism generates its own resources, and they're usually non-transferable. As a feminist activist, I've spent enough time trying to get uninterested women to come to events ("why can't you understand how important this is!"), to not look a gift horse in the mouth, however slutty. The feminism that campaigns for concrete improvements to women's lives isn't hurt when a fun, subversive, "taste-your-own-menstrual-blood"-esque school of thought has a go.

SlutWalking is popular because it is about an attitude and a spirit; an encapsulation of a moment in time. Kathleen Hanna's message was lost in the tenacious machinery of gender fascism, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a good one. There is room for more than one feminist march, and more than one kind of feminist activism. Going on a SlutWalk doesn't mean you can't go to Reclaim the Night, and vice versa. It's not a flawless concept, sure, but show me your perfect action and I'll find you at least 10 women who fundamentally disagree.

For the sake of unity and for the sake of new takes on old ideas, I will be at SlutWalk London. There are definitely problems with the approach, but the fuck-you-I-don't-care spirit of the thing is infectious. I think we should give it a try. My outfit of choice is currently an amalgamation of hiking boots, ass-less chaps, novelty beard and feather boa. I'm still deliberating on the merits of the Hawaiian shirt.