Celebrity Clothing

Last night I was mostly looking at Paris Hilton’s bottom. Quite a pert bottom it is too. Shame about the face but then if I had the money that Paris Hilton has, my bottom would look that pert too!

Synchronicity strikes once more for I happened upon her bottom a mere 24 hours after my lover and I had been discussing celebrity dressing and the fact that quite a few people had recently been photographed with their derrieres or tits on display.

I hadn’t been searching for Paris Hilton and her arse. It just came up on the front page of one of the more famous webs searchers. There it was, proud and exaggerated as she bent over to get something out of her car. She was wearing black leggings that became transparent as the paparazzi man’s shadow imprinted itself on her backside. You could see every line, crack and roundness.

It did make me wonder whether Paris knew what she was doing. I suspect that she did.

She had no knickers on, or if she did, she was wearing a very invisible G-String. So when she bent down to pick up the thing that had fallen out of her boot, she must have known that the cameras would take her photo and that it would reveal plenty of her toned arse.

And quite frankly, why shouldn’t she show off the best parts of her body? If she is going to be photographed wherever she goes, then she really ought to flaunt the bits of her that she thinks are most appealing.

Mylie Cyrus has just been celebrating her eighteenth birthday. She was photographed in a very uncompromising position, clearly half cut with her legs entangled in another’s. Her top was completely transparent and her bra was totally exposed.

She had chosen to go out dressed in this way because this was the look that suited her. She has a decent pair of tits for an eighteen year old and wearing a see-through top made her feel sexy.

Judging by the photos of what looked like simulated sex, her little outfit clearly got the result that she had anticipated; a good looking would-be lover between her thighs.

The beautiful and sexy Katy Perry/Brand does nothing to hide her voluptuous figure. She deliberately flaunts her wonderful figure to a world of awaiting flashing. She knows she looks bloody gorgeous and she quite rightly allows it all to be seen by the awaiting fans.

So all this flaunting is acceptable is it? Women in tights, revealing their panties is the fashion of the moment? It seems to be so.

Why are people so shocked then? Why is this more unacceptable than a woman flashing cleavage for instance?

I was thinking about this as I went for my evening swim.

There you are in the pool with complete strangers, happily and contentedly swimming around in a shared space with moreorless nothing on. An associate of mine, who I know vaguely, swims in the same place. He fashions a speedo look which hides nothing. As we climb out of the pool, me with my cleavage, him with his speedos, we talk about work totally unembarrassed by our near nudity. We wouldn’t dream of sitting at work together in our bra, panties and knickers. It would be most unseemly.

On holiday, you sit with friends and family in next to nothing and do not consider it to be weird or outlandish, and yet when you are all back in a house together with the constraints of bricks and mortar, you tightly wrap a towel around yourself as you come out of the shower, fearful that it will untie itself and reveal a body that you have already revealed to the awaiting eye on the beach only minutes before.

Boy, we are strange folk.

I mean, you wouldn’t dream of walking down to cook breakfast in your undies and yet you sit quite happily munching on a sarnie in your bikini and having a perfectly non-sexual conversation with friends as you are doing so.

We do have a very odd relationship with clothes and nudity. The juxtaposition and, quite frankly, complete hypocrisy is astounding. Why is a black bra more of a problem than a black bikini top?

What is wrong with a famous person or even a none-famous person revealing their lovely thighs in transparent trousers if they happen to have an arse worth looking at? Why is that more unacceptable than them walking around with a transparent top on revealing their bra to the world? And yet it is.

Perhaps it is something to do with, you know, what goes on down there!

Tits are functional for the milk that they produce and people can just about accept that. But showing the other bits, where man and woman jigsaw together? Hell no because then we would have to admit that we rather like cocks and cunts and our eyes would be drawn to the most precious parts of our body. And we should not look at other people’s bits, not those bits anyway.

But we are human beings. We are instinctive animals if only we would allow ourselves to be.

When I see a voluptuous woman with a good body, I am naturally drawn to inspect her cleavage. When I am walking down the street, I like to see the many beautiful forms I come across, both male and female. When I am in the swimming pool, I am naturally curious as to see what people are hiding in their trunks or their bathers. It does not mean that I am sexually attracted to every person that I see. Far from it. But I do admit to looking because that is a natural thing to do.

And if a person has the desire and confidence to draw attention to the best parts of their anatomy, then why should they not do that? Why are we so hopeless at admitting that we want to be voyeurs?

When I get dressed, I want to look good. I do not have the body of Paris Hilton, or the money sadly. I do not have the best tits or the most desirable arse in the world but what I do want to do is make myself look as presentable as possible, and in some situations I want to look as sexy as possible, and in others I just want to feel confident about how I look, sexy or not. I dress for me, and if other people take pleasure in my appearance then that is all for the good. If I can bring a smile to a face or a hard on to a cock, then that is all well and good.

If I had a body worth flaunting, I think I would flaunt it; not to attract attention but because it made ME feel good about myself (partly because of the attracted attention, let us not deny).

If I had parts of me that are sexually exciting, like good tits, and a toned tummy, I would wear the transparent tops for the world to see, not at work maybe, but elsewhere. If I had an arse to die for, I’d wear what Paris Hilton was wearing. Good on her!

Clothes can be incredibly sexy. Slightly clad people can be incredibly exciting, sometimes even more tantalising than complete nakedness – it feeds the imagination in a way that a full frontal cannot.

But we really do have an odd and contradictory relationship with clothes that in an enlightened society would not exist. A bra would be the same as a bikini top. Getting out of the pool in the altogether would be no different from sitting in a hot office in your bra.

Dream on Zenpuss. Our enlightenment is a long way off!

An Alternative Royal Wedding

Charlie Boy said that he was delighted but they took their time (pot and kettle). The wicked step-mother said it was “wicked”. Peter Broadbent, better known as the Bishop of Willesden, said that he gave them seven years and then they would start itching. Not very Christian, so some people said.

Public ooos and aahs have only just started. My hope that they get married in the Spring rather than the Summer has been realised. At least we do not have to endure more of the wedding build up than absolutely necessary.

It’s going to be a long few months regardless.

And we love the fact that they are getting married on the same day that Eva Braun married her ‘beau’.

So Wills and commoner Kate have decided to go the way of monogamy after eight years or so of courtship.

Courtship – what a peculiar phrase that is. Courting favour? Courting lust?

All people entering into marriage should think long and hard about what they are actually doing. This is allegedly a life-long commitment to one another, forsaking all others and remaining faithful as long as ye both shall live.

Can someone in their twenties really make that commitment when they have yet to develop and fully evolve as a human being? I’m not sure they can. All they can realistically do is live in the moment, believe that there is trust and hope that a relationship can withstand the day to day pressures of life, the making of babies and nurturing of a family and understand the notion that people are like sand; constantly moving, always developing and changing, never stagnating – hopefully.

So Charlie Boy is probably wrong, as ever. They have taken their time and I suppose they have considered this monumental decision but then again, isn’t this all about expectation and custom? Even though we all know that Wills and Kate have clearly had sex with one another, there is the expectation that those who hold high office, or are part of The Family Firm, should be married and not merely living together. Apparently, that marriage vow makes someone respectable, virtuous, honest.

Ed Miliband is the leader of the Labour Party and there are some that are pressurising him to stick a ring on his partner’s finger for the good of the party, to make him a more respectable leader. I hope he sticks his fingers up to such a suggestion, prominently and vociferously, showing quite clearly that a commitment to another human being does not have to be accompanied with a band of gold and such a commitment will not make him a better leader.

But let us return to the happy couple of the moment. Let us consider what is happening and what is going to happen to their relationship or what could happen to their relationship if they were the enlightened folk that we would like to be head of our nation (and let us ignore the fact that there are many of us who have more republican tendencies and find it all abhorrent that this family has such a privilege).

On the radio the other day, people were discussing fidelity and the fact that the Princes of Wales’s down the years have always had mistresses. This is a common factor for many of them, allegedly. In fact, all monarchs have had their flings as have their partners.

Edward the Seventh was a right randy whatsit. Lily Langtry was his most famous beau but he took lovers left, right and centre. The court of the time knew this. It was one of those open secrets in the post Victorian era.

The good queen herself obviously never had such dalliances, such was her commitment to her dead husband, but then there was the ‘weird’ relationship with Mr. John Brown. Apparently, they had adjoining bedrooms which some commented on saying that it was “contrary to etiquette and even decency”.

Edward’s son, George V also probably had affairs, maybe to get away from the stringency of the matriarch figure that was his wife.

Here’s the really strange thing. People have commented on all the ‘affairs’ that Edward the Eighth had before he married Mrs. Simpson. Surely he was the mistress! Can you have an affair if you are not married? Or is it just an improper relationship?

According to the person on the radio, only George VI and his daughter, our present queen, has remained faithful to one partner, though obviously the Queen’s consort has played away too, allegedly, though we are not allowed to know this because the thirty year rule of disclosure is censured about those members of the royal family who still live. Madness.

We all know the lurid stories of tampons and Prince Charles’s extra-marital bonking. Some might say that at least he was consistent, and stuck with his lover for decades; finally marrying the person that some thought he should have married in the first place. His commitment to Camilla clearly did not warrant a ring on the finger for many a year.

So it looks as though there is a custom, a trend. It looks as though the Firm has resolutely ignored the sanctity of marriage for generations.

Now the Royal Family survive because of tradition. Those who argue for the constitutional monarchy state that they bring in the crowds and generate a huge income for the country in royal tourism, probably not as much as us taxpayers pay but nobody seems to discuss that properly.

So if we accept this argument, perhaps we should also stick to other royal traditions, i.e. that the heir to the throne can get married and play the pomp and ceremony games but they should also be free to dangle their bits wherever they want.

Only of course, I would never suggest such a thing.

But in all seriousness, perhaps William and Katherine, as we now have to call her (I so wish she had been called Kelly or Tracy), should consider this infidelity question now and have a more enlightened approach to their marriage, keeping all customs going and introducing a few new ones.

In the name of equality, Wills should suggest that if he is free to have his dalliances then so should Kate be free to do what she wants, should the temptation come her way. She’s a good looking girl, in her way, and I am sure that there will be plenty of gorgeous men looking her way in the hope of bedding the future queen of England. It could be quite fun for the girl!

Seriously though, wouldn’t it be wonderful if William and Kate decided to have marriage vows that did not include the lie “forsaking all others”? Wouldn’t it be brilliant if they could explain on a Panorama programme that they are completely committed to one another but they do not rule out sexual relationships with others because there is a difference between intimacy with one and having sex with another? Wouldn’t it be splendiferous if they said that they were both young and did not know what life was going to throw at them, and that although they are committed to procreation and continuing the family line, they might also want to have a more liberal and free relationship with one another that enabled them to grow in all manner of ways, for the benefit of themselves and their subjects, who would benefit from the liberty that they allowed themselves?

It just makes one think that there are possibilities but in this nation of prudish and hypocritical behaviour around sex, the marriage of these two people will conform to the anarchic customs of royal traditions, where expectations of fidelity are borne out, and in a misogynist way, if Wills decides to play away, then that is also traditionally acceptable.

This wouldn’t happen in France. As it was in Edward VII’s time, the public acknowledge that Sarkozy and his wife are not likely to be faithful unto one another. There are other people in the marriage, not three as Diana famously said but four or maybe more.

Nobody bats an eyelid. French society has not disintegrated into anarchy because their leader has sex with more than one person. The presidency is not undermined. Mitterand’s mistress was at his graveside with his wife when they put him in the ground, and nobody really gave a damn.

I’m not suggesting that this has to be the way. If William and Kate want to have a life of committed monogamy, then so be it. It suits some people.

But if they did decide that they wanted other relationships, then I hope that it can be agreed between them. I hope that there is enough honesty in their forthcoming marriage where they can say to one another, “I find this person attractive” and have a talk about what having sex with that third party would actually mean.

And I mean this for both of them, not just the male in the relationship.

More and more women are finding opportunity and desire to have relationships outside a marriage.

I suppose that I should stop talking now in case I am sent to the tower. I am not suggesting that this marriage cannot work. In fact, it is more likely to succeed because they did not rush into this decision. However, I am merely pointing out that they should be mindful of the fact that even in the most traditional of places, there are hidden customs and there are desires and that honesty with one another is far more important than sexual fidelity.

But of course, that is only my opinion, and practicing the preaching is far more difficult.

Forty Boobs

Once upon a time there was a young woman who lived in a far away part of the country who, like many women of her age, was appalled at the whole thing that was “The Sun” newspaper.

First and foremost, her objection to the rag was the politics and the smarmy way that they managed to get these magnificent headlines such as “Argy Bargy” which influenced the nation so dramatically.

But at that time, in the early eighties, she also objected to the Page Three girls. She abhorred the idea that women were selling their bodies for profit, for the titillation of young boys and older men, not even realising that they were being abused in this way.

However, whenever she happened to come across a copy of “The Sun” she always took a peek!

Bit of a dilemma really, if she was honest with herself. Her objection to these women parading themselves in this way was influenced greatly by the feminists and Labour Party stalwarts of the time, who constantly commented on the degradation of women. She was concerned that these women flaunting themselves was somehow going to lead men, young and old, to abuse the women that they were having relationships with. She feared that having tits out meant that men had certain expectations of the women that they were with, and if these ‘normal’ women did not live up to the images of the nubile beauties, these real people would be rejected. She worried that men who looked at Page Three every day felt they had a God-given right to look at any woman’s tits and this could lead to sexual abuse and rape.

She was concerned that men who looked at Page Three girls in this way would look at all women in this way and that women would ultimately be nothing more than a sex object, and all the great strides that the feminists had taken would disintegrate, enabling women to become the second class citizens that she felt they were.

And yet, she still looked at the tits whenever she had the opportunity.

At the same time, she also believed that if someone masturbated whilst they were in a relationship with someone, then the ‘wanker’ was clearly not fulfilled. It was a sign that the relationship was deeply flawed. She also believed that women who slept around with men were being abused by these men rather than seeing the sexual enjoyment for the woman.

She also fundamentally believed that a woman’s body was HER body and she should do everything within her power to protect it from abuse of any form.

And yet, she still absolutely believed that empowerment for women meant that THEY should be the ones who made choices. How could it be any other way?

What she was unsure of was whether these women were making choices.

What she, and others, were unaware of was that these women WERE making choices. They were choosing to get undressed and show their very fine bodies to the world. Yes, for profit. Yes, for fun. Yes, because they were proud of what they had. Yes, because they got a real kick out  of being sexually provocative and exciting.

It is now 40 years since Stephanie Rahn took her clothes off for the Sun newspaper. Looking at that photo now, it is still a beautiful pose. A woman, sleek, attractive, sexual, sitting down, showing the glorious arch of the woman’s form, with a dark nipple protruding from a tiny bust, smiling consciously at the camera, inviting the viewer to take a surreptitious glance at her body.

It is actually a very beautiful shot.

40 years on the current Page Three favourite, Rhian has replicated the pose in mirror image with a fuller boob, a smoother finish to the photo-shopped image and a more seductive look on her face.

So how does the woman who was so vociferous in her objection to Page Three in the Eighties feel today about this anniversary? What does she feel when she sees Stephanie and Rhian.

How does she feel about the Sam Fox’s and the Linda Lusardi’s and how they made their millions?

If I am honest, I am still in a dilemma about it. I do worry that there are too many unenlightened people in the world who cannot correlate effectively between what they see and how they treat the women in their lives. I think it is perfectly wonderful that women are aware of their sexuality. I want more women to be empowered by their sexuality but I want it to be their choice and I certainly do not want women forced into situations where their sexuality is manipulated for the benefit of others and not themselves.

If this all seems contradictory, then that is because it probably is.

Sex is a complicated and diverse matter with all sorts of oxymorons, contradictions, confusions and dilemmas. But it really shouldn’t be so. We as a society have confused the issue that our forefathers never had to contend with.

For I cannot get away from the fact that despite all my protestations about Page Three girls, I still wanted to look. This hasn’t made me into a sexual predator and it clearly hasn’t made the majority of Sun readers sexual predators. The Page Three girl images are so tame by comparison with what is available nowadays that it is inconceivable that these photos could make men rush out into the street and grab the tits of the nearest female passer-by. Has there ever been any evidence that a sexual attack has taken place as a direct consequence of someone ogling a Page Three beauty?

It all goes back to our weird relationship with sexuality.

We are a nation of prudes who want to look!

We are a nation of hypocrites!

The feminists objected to the Page Three phenomenon because they believed that women were being manipulated to sell their bodies for the gratification of men. It was, and is, a world dictated by men. Sexuality is still, in the main, a man’s world. But does that mean that women should not sell their wares? Isn’t it more about a shift in mindset and for us to see and acknowledge that these women are proud of their very beautiful bodies and actually want men and women to get their rocks off? That these women have chosen to do this. They have not been forced into anything.

And who am I to say that this was not happening 40 years ago when Stephanie Rahn allowed the photographer to take her picture? Was she manipulated into doing this? Or did she actually think that she had a good body, it was a sexy and exciting thing to do and that she wanted to put a smile on people’s faces and make them feel good for the day?

Sex does make people feel good and if the nation could only realise that then what harm is there in a national newspaper of, sadly, such high readership making people feel good? Is it not as simple as that?

The feminists will still argue that it is degrading for women, that the very fact that “The Sun” gets such high readership continually reinforces the notion that women are there for the grand titillation of our men folk, and that the numbers of ‘viewers’ equates to the number of possible abusers of women increasing.

All I am trying to say is that perhaps we should rethink this, and look at it more as an empowerment of women’s sexuality and embrace the fact that these women are doing something to further the cause of “normalising” women’s sexuality, which let us face facts, is normal.

I know this view is controversial but for me feminism is absolutely about the empowerment of women. You cannot have full liberty if you are not sexually free. If we pamper to the notion that women take their clothes off for the benefit of men, we are also saying that women only have sex for the benefit of men, and we are back to Stephen Fry!

Forty years on, we should go back and have a look at why these women took their clothes off. We should turn it all on its head and say, “Hallelujah” or something rather less religious – we, as women, are beautiful creatures. We, as women, have the right, by choice to embrace our sexuality. WE choose. WE decide. WE want. WE need OUR sexuality.

Simplistic? Possibly. Nothing ever is when it comes to sexuality because it is not ever just about sexuality. It is about relationships. It is about our relationship with one another. It is about our relationship with sex which a prudish, scared national hypocrisy reinforces to much more damaging effect than a girl getting her tits out.

Our whole relationship with sex needs rethinking. Pornography is there at the touch of a button which, in some ways, makes the old Page Three girl something of an anachronism.

My point is resolute. We must rethink the whole notion of female sexuality and empower women to make choices that are right for them, and if that means bearing their boobs in a national disgrace of a newspaper, so be it. Welcome it and see it as an opportunity for us all to smile, for us all to be honest that we actually rather like seeing a pair of tits on a daily basis.

Black Lace

Black Lace

http://www.deviantart.com/download/126257924/Texture_Black_Lace_by_liz_stock.jpg

What is it about black lace that is so damn erotic?

What is it about the intricacies of those small, miniscule gaps in the fabric where tender rumps can be seen in close, scrutinised detail that sends sensual shivers through the mind and heart of the viewer?

What is it that entices the man to trickle his fingers over the edge of the lace, caressing the skin beneath, tantalising the wearer to urge him further within?

What is it about black lace that makes a women want to wear it, has to wear it, hoping it will excite and delight her lover?

Black Lace – how the aga-bloody-doo was anyone so unsexy allowed to use such a name for the crappiest of crappy musical groups? To sensual people such as me, this really ought to be a criminal offence!

Black Lace, of course, is also the label for the female erotic writing brigade, where sadly, last year, it was announced that there would be no new commissions or publications. I wonder whether that is still the case. They still seem to have their guidance document for new writers on the website.

http://nt6744.vs.netbenefit.co.uk/guidelines.html

It seems a shame for something like this to be in decline just at a time when women are beginning to embrace the sexual liberty that should have been afforded to them years ago.

Black Lace – click on the link to the photograph above and you will see that it is from a website called “deviantart”. Clever name eh? Gets plenty of hits because of it.

I think people rather like deviant tarts. They clearly like deviant art.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeviantArt

But let us return to Black Lace.

Earlier this week, my beautiful lover sent me some photographs of my rump clad in fine black lace.

The photos were pretty damn good, with the light casting impressive shades across the mainly monochrome picture. Elaborate detail of the panties had been highlighted. Zooming had enlivened the original shot not blurred it. As a piece of artwork, irrespective of the photographer and the model’s relationship, they were rather impressive.

On receipt of these photographs, I told him that I was turned on. Was it wrong to be aroused by pictures of myself?

The response to that was that some might think that is rather kinky, but no. You should not worry about being aroused by erotic pictures of yourself because first and foremost, they are erotic photographs. If you already have a love and get excited by erotica, then why should it be any different if you happen to be the subject matter?

Of course, the arousal is not just about the actual photograph. As with any good turn on, it is a mixture of things that accentuate the feeling of horniness.

The photos were beautiful, and I appreciate enormously the fact that my lover even wants to take erotic photos of me. But my arousal this week was also about remembering when the photo was taken, why it was take, what happened immediately after the photo was taken, how aroused and hard my lover’s cock was once he had taken the photos, how juicy and needy was my pussy.

All those thoughts flooded back when I looked at the photograph.

But even that is not the end of the matter.

I imagined my lover downloading the images that he had taken, moving his head from side to side to get a better look, zooming in on essential places, knowing that his fingers have slid along, tracing the line of the fabric and gliding in further. I imagined my lover looking at these photos with an urgent need to grab hold of his cock whilst he was doing so, gently rubbing it, possibly with the memory of the moment of capture.

You see, sexuality, good sexual experiences do not come on their own. Yes you can have a wank and it feels good, but even that is probably assisted by photos, pictures, memories. You can have recreational sex without necessarily having intimate feelings for whoever you are fucking but you are still doing more than the physical act. You are loving the sensuality of two bodies coming together, irrespective of the feelings. Nothing stands alone in sex.

That is why it is perfectly understandable to be aroused by a picture of yourself, dressed in black lace, and remembering.

So, now to the real reason for writing.

I am now going to implore all women reading this to get out and buy a very decent set of black lace underwear. Preferably, take your lover shopping with you. Look at lingerie together. Feel the texture of the fabric together. Decide on the shape of the cut that will suit your arse and cunt most. Everyone is different and what is right for me may not be right for you.

Walk passed the pinks and the reds and the yellows and the oranges. There is a time and place for colour in the bedroom. Not now.

Concentrate on the black. FEEL and imagine what it is going to be like when you are wearing them, when your lover looks at you as the black lace veils the brilliance of the female form. Understand the magnetism of those intricate details that will excite your lover so intensely. Think about how you are going to make love in these perfect black lacy items; pushing them aside or stepping seductively out of them, leaving a pool of darkness on the floor as you fuck.

And once you have chosen your blackness of perfection, take photos of yourself or get your lover to do so. Take full frontals. Push your rear into the camera, accentuate those fulsome hips. Direct the viewer to the wonderful contrast lines of flesh and lace. Zoom in onto nipples, covered in tiny black dots joined together in subtlety.

Do all this and I guarantee that you will have a perfectly sensual fuck.

And when you have done all of that, whip them off and insist that your lover wears your discarded black ones.

More on this another time.

Hysterical Sexuality

As the week has progressed since Stephen Fry made his ‘sex’ announcement that was then retracted and then counter argued and then reviewed and then analysed and dissected and rebuked, there has been an abundance of writers, both professional and amateur, making comments about the subject matter and the National Treasure’s right to open his mouth on the subject.

I include myself amongst them as I too made comment immediately after Stephen had done his business.

I started that blog with “Oh Stephen, Stephen, Stephen” and to an extent, I still stand by this exasperation but possibly not for the same reason as others have protested. I happen to think that Stephen is onto something. I happen to think that there are women who do not like sex. I happen to think there are men who feel that their women are only having sex with them out of duty rather than desire.

I happen to think that because I know people who do just that.

However, where Stephen and I part company is the reasons for this sexual inertia, or even whether this sexual inertia exists.

I also happen to believe that the reason some of these women do not like sex or are indifferent to it is because they have never had the opportunity to explore their own sexuality. I happen to believe that if women had been enabled to enjoy their sexuality generations ago, then we would have had a much healthier regard for sex in this country and certainly would not be in a situation where a gay man could even question a woman’s love of sex.

As if by magic to back my thoughts up, there are appeared in the paper today a reminder of how treatment for the sexually hysterical was developed in the late 1800s; something that Zenpuss wrote about over two years ago.

http://zenpuss.blogspot.com/2008/05/hysteria-stress-and-knowing-your-body.html

Or is it ‘by magic’ that these things appear?

If there is one thing I would certainly like to congratulate Mr. Fry on is his ability to be the Zeitgeist. Perhaps the ‘hysteria’ article only appeared so prominently because of Stephen Fry’s intervention last week. Admittedly, the article is about a film that would be appearing in our cinemas with or without the National Treasure’s comments but female sexuality suddenly seems to be the flavour of the month.

Thank goodness.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/nov/07/vibrator-victorian-women-film-hysteria

The story is about a Dr Joseph Mortimer Granville who “accidentally” invented the first vibrator whilst treating women for hysteria, depression, stress, sleeplessness and an unwillingness to go coital with their husbands. The patients submitted themselves to this electronic stimulation which resulted in “hysterical paroxysm” or orgasms to you and me.

1880 folks and we still cannot fully acknowledge the presence of a vaginal orgasm!

“There is something about that time in the 1880s, and just how strict the cultural codes were, that makes it funny” states US director Tanya Wexler. “Everyone pretended it was a medical thing, not a sexual thing, or rather, they really believed it”.

As I said, 1880 and how far exactly have we travelled.

Personally, Ms Wexler, I find it highly un-amusing that the strict cultural codes were in place and to some extent are still so today.

For example, how many “couples” do you think are going to see this film together, squirming in their seats as they worry about whether their hidden vibe is about to be found or whether there is a hidden vibrator at all, or indeed why there isn’t a vibrator that they are using together?

Mr. Fry could not possibly have made his comments if there was enough knowledge, understanding and appreciation of the female orgasm and female sexuality. He can only say such things because of the huge amount of ignorance that veils this all important subject. So it is far from amusing in my opinion.

And whilst we are on the subject of combining Fry, hysteria and sex let us consider one other aspect of this cohesive little story.

Stephen Fry, by his own admission, suffers from depression; manic depression in fact. He has been diagnosed as bi-polar. This is a debilitating illness where sufferer’s inertia invades every aspect of their lives. Left untreated it does not seem to be able to self-correct or disappear. However, with the support of drugs, the patient can improve.

But it is not just down to drugs. Lifestyle changes can also help the sufferer.

Is it possible that Stephen Fry is less “hysterical”, calmer and more contented now that he has embraced his sexuality and called time on his years of abstinence?

Please do not misinterpret this. I am not suggesting that the only way that manic depressives can improve is by having large quantities of sex, but it may just help. After all, the Hysteria work of Dr. Granville was successful. These women were allegedly cured of their hysteria once they had a regular dose of the vibrator.

Makes you think doesn’t it. I know that my own hysteria, of which there is a plenty, is certainly placated by a healthy dose of sex. I know that my own stress levels, paranoia and emotional unsteadiness are grossly exacerbated when I have not had regular orgasms, and I would even go as far as to say regular vaginal orgasms.

I need sex. I need healthy, regular, fully orgasmic sex. I need it now, I needed it yesterday and I will need it tomorrow. Fact.

But that is just me. I’m not a raving nymphomaniac as much as I would like to think I am. I am just a woman in her forties who has embraced sexuality and the need and desire for sex in her life. I need love and consideration too, and healthy relationships but that is almost another matter. What I definitely need is something that triggers that entire glorious serotonin rumbling through my systems. I need to be transcend the physical and be blasted into a surreal perfection of blissed out loveliness that only comes from damn, fine fucking, or making love, if you prefer.

Which brings me to my next extract.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/nov/07/stephen-fry-sexuality-victoria-coren

Talking of National Treasures, Victoria Coren is fast becoming one.

In this article, Victoria states that the fact that sexuality is such an individual thing. In her typical ‘hysterical’ and amusing way, she suggests that some of us might like to go cruising in the nude on Hampstead Heath (taking her scarf with her because it is November!). She also suggests that some of us might be interested in introducing pineapples into our sexual encounter but you could have two people who come together and both want sex involving a pineapple, only they have completely different ways (and ends – ooh er) of using the pineapple.

Sex is very individual.

To that extent, she argues, that Fry was both right and wrong, which is why there are so many opportunities to agree and disagree with him. There are women who don’t like sex. There are men who worry that their women do not like sex. There are women who have sex because that is the price one has to pay for the lifestyle that comes with it.

But there are equally women like Victoria Coren and I who might like sex and might like it to be a little kinky.

“What I think I want is to do filthy and disrespectful things with someone I love and trust. That's not a moral code; I just think it's sexier, to unlock the hidden and forbidden with someone you also talk to politely at breakfast and watch being a civilised grown-up on social occasions. Conveniently, love also gets stronger if you share every dark secret. That's real intimacy.

But I'm wrong, because some people define intimacy differently. I'm wrong because some of you now think I'm a slut. I'm wrong because I'll never know how much more filthy, or how much less, I'd be without the billions of influences on our suggestible little brains, including those from centuries before we were born, that built the culture in which we live."

Aahh Victoria, Victoria, Victoria – I love you!

No Victoria, you are not wrong. You are absolutely right.

We have an abundance of influences on our sexuality, and some of us have to remove some insipid ones that have been instilled over years and possibly generations. I suspect, for instance, that those Victorian women who were treated for their hysteria were not my foremothers. I suspect this treatment was for those who could afford the astronomical prices for such indulgences.

I do not know what my grandparents and great-grand-parents sex lives were like but I further suspect that there certainly wasn’t much concern as to whether the woman was sexually liberated and enjoying it all.

But of course she is also wrong!

Victoria concludes with this lovely paragraph.

“But for anyone to say that Fry is "right" or "wrong" in any general sense is madness. As his clarification spelt out, he was just throwing around ideas about the incomprehensible. There's no point trying to find the truth of desire with anyone but your partner. There is no "women" or "men" or "sex". Sentences beginning with any of those words are usually meaningless. There is nothing but an infinite number of vibrating particles, and love.

And in saying that, of course, I'm probably wrong.”

“There is no “women” or “men” or “sex””. That is correct. One cannot make sweeping generalisations about sexuality. However, we have to have a starting point and therefore there has to be statements such as “women can ejaculate” or “women can have vaginal orgasms”.

Once we have got passed those little hurdles, then we can start considering the type of individual sexuality that Coren describes so perfectly.

Talk to Me

“Careless Talk Costs Lives”

That was the phrase that was adopted in the 1940s to prevent people from divulging information to the Germans. Walls talk, they said. You never know who is listening, they reiterated. You never know who is on the wires, they reminded.

That was then and this is now.

Careless talk can still cost lives. It can certainly make life extremely difficult if people open their mouths unnecessarily when they have been spoken to in confidence. But as I said, that was then and this is now.

The Internet is a means of talking. Blogging is a means of thinking aloud and putting thoughts together into a semi-cohesive piece of writing. The Walls that listened in 1940 is now a computer that most people have access to. The wires that people listened into are now the wealth of writing and information that is available at the click of a button. People “talk”, others “listen”.

Only how do we know that people are listening? How do we know whether anyone is listening to what we have to say? How do we know when it is the right time to talk and the right time to close our mouths and keep our opinions to ourselves?

It’s not always easy to decide what the right course of action is.

I know that this piece of writing is going to come across as some gross contradiction because the balance between silence and talk is a precarious one, especially when you are looking at relationships. But before I venture into this subject in greater detail, I have a request for anyone who is considerate enough to read this article...........

........ Speak to me!

You can do so anonymously but I want to listen. I have done plenty of talking and I want to talk some more. The subject of sexuality, of relationships, of intercourse is something that fascinates me. There is too much silence on the matter. Women around the world have closed their mouths, and indeed their legs, and heaven forbid their senses to the overwhelming brilliance of sex. They have confused and mutated their sexuality into expression of love or lust without really looking at the differentiation.

I’m not suggesting that sex and love are mutually exclusive. Far from it. In my opinion, the very best sex comes out of mutual affection. Intimacy of mutual appreciation and shared sexuality is, for me, the essence of my sexuality. However, it doesn’t always have to be so. Good sex can happen without love, without caring even – simply enjoying the wonderment of sex.

But I digress.

I want to hear from other women who are on journeys into their sexuality, who have challenged their own misconceptions about relationships, who are travelling along a path of new experiences. I want to hear about the men who are enlightened enough to know that looking at female sexuality will emphatically improve their own. I want to hear from people who understand or even challenge some of the things that I am saying.

I know that some of the things that I say will be controversial to some but hopefully thought-provoking to others.

Talk to me so that I can see just who is interested in the things that I write.

Perhaps you could suggest other things that you would like me to consider. 

I am a voice that is not ready to be silenced. My own growth and development is nowhere near complete. I still have a road to travel and without the conversation from like-minded folk and those who disagree I cannot travel completely.

“When the mind is thinking it is talking to itself”

So says Plato.

When Zenpuss is thinking, it is often written down here. I may be talking to myself but I sincerely hope I am not.

.......................................................................................................................

All this talk of talking brings me to consider something else.

As I have said, my own sexuality is very much a part of me and my relationship with others. I love to talk about my sexuality with my lover because I think he understands it more than most, probably understands me more than most.

I love talking about the things that we might do together. I love arousing his imagination, his sexual creativity, even pushing the boundaries to enable him to consider sexual behaviour that he has either dismissed from his mind or never even considered. But discussions on the type of sexual acts that we might enjoy with one another are different than talking about our sexuality and indeed our relationship. Sometimes they are intertwined. Sometimes, considering what we want to do together makes us then look objectively about sexuality in general.

Take my utter desire to be peed on. I know others might find this alarming but even discussing it brings a level of intimacy. It challenges my many preconceptions about what is acceptable and what is abhorrent. It makes us look at the whole issue of female ejaculation and about people’s interpretation about what exactly is emitting from pussy when someone floods their stuff all over the place. So what if there is a little amount of urine in it! So what if it is all urine! (Though I hasten to add, I sincerely doubt this to be the case).

But without being able to talk so intimately, without being able to express our sexuality how can we even begin to explore new depths in our own and others sexuality?

“Don’t have sex man. It leads to kissing and pretty soon you have to start talking to them” - Steve Martin.

Dear Steven, you have a point but a pretty poor one at that, and I know there is a facetious element to it. People can have sex without the kissing but as soon as relationship begins then perhaps the very best thing to do is talk. How will people ever learn about their partner’s sexual needs if we just shut the hell up? How will we ever understand our partner’s desires or their understanding of intimacy and relationships if we simply stop talking at any point in the relationship?

Maybe Stephen Fry was right after all (see last blog). Maybe there has not been enough dialogue between people to understand what a woman wants sexually and what a man thinks she wants and what a man wants and so forth.

Sometimes, silence is far from golden.

But then there is another phase of intimacy.

“Talking comes by nature, silence by wisdom” – proverb

When should the talking stop and the silence begin? Should the talking stop and the silence begin? Should the two things happen simultaneously? Is there intimacy in the knowledge of when it is right to talk and when it is appropriate to be silenced?

When I am fucked out beyond all rationality, beyond the realms of the mere sensual, I don’t really want to talk. The wisdom of my sexuality requires silence.

And yet, I need to tell the world about it too. Not in that moment. Not when words could not possibly convey the essence of my being.

But later.

It is important to talk. It is important that people who are intimate with one another discuss things including their sexuality but it is also important to have silence too. It is wise to have silence in moments that require no words.

It is important to me, at least, that I can ‘talk’ on this blog to try and express something of my sexuality that may or may not help others to understand their own.

“Be silent yourself, that will induce silence in others. Do not fall into the habit of shouting, talking, long and loud. Carry with you an atmosphere of quiet contemplation, wherever you happen to be. The less you talk, the more will become your mental power” – Sri Sathia Sai Baba

Maybe there is not enough silence in life. Maybe we do not enable our mental power sexually because we talk too much. Maybe we should listen to our bodies, our minds, our souls more frequently. Doing so requires silence. Maybe there are times when words just simply will not do.

Well, I said it would be contradictory.

I suppose the conclusion is that there is a time to talk and a time to be silent.

Relationships and people’s individual sexuality will not work without honesty and discussion. If you are going to maintain a level of intimacy that is rewarding and works for all involved, then you have to talk. If we are going to strip this world of the inappropriate and destructive attitudes to sex and relationships then we have to talk.

But in order to delve into ourselves and make some sense of sex and relationships we need silence too.