Date Panic!

Well! I have a date tomorrow, and I’m excited and shitting an absolute brick.

I havn’t had a date since the photo above was taken, and as you can see at the time all a lady had to do was hold a bunch of grapes in an attractive manner. At the time I was renowned for my fruit fondling (hehe) but now I’m completely out of practise.

Somebody, fetch me a bunch of bananas, I must test my skills!

So what floats the modern man’s boat? And what does he expect? As you can see above, I’m completely open to the kissing of the forearm area. Indeed, the wrist and hand are open for business. Are further indecencies expected of me?

Should I bring my grapes as a back-up plan?

Seriously though, what will we talk about? What will we do? Will I acidently get locked out of nerves? Am I supposed to ask junk about stuff? Should I do the kiss on the cheek at the beginning of the date? Is there anything I shouldn’t mention?

WHAT THE FUCK WILL I WEAR!?

Can anyone help me out here? Anyone have any great first date tips???

VIVA LA DATE!

“What do celibate men know about the lives, health and the decisions of poor women?”

Fuck all is what!

Women’s rights are under the greatest attack for almost 20 years after a failure of world leaders to continue to support reproductive rights, according to Mary Robinson, the first female president of Ireland.

Her comments come amid fears that religious conservatives are eroding support for family planning around the world. Objections from the Vatican and other states removed specific support for reproductive rights, such as family planning, from an international agreement reached in Rio de Janeiro last month by the UN conference on sustainable development. -The Guardian

I’m so proud it’s an Irish woman drawing attention to this!

VIVA MRS ROBINSON!

Aging Disgracefully

Sex and sexuality is not about whether your elbows or knees are wrinkled. A man turns to you and says: ‘I love the way you laugh.’ That’s what’s turning him. They love a line around your eye or your mouth, because it tells them you’ve laughed and you’re going to laugh and be forgiving and embracing. Men want to know that you’re going to be forgiving and embracing. Believe me when I tell you a 20-year-old is not going to do that.Do I look great or am I in denial because I’m just pretending that it isn’t what it is – I’m getting older? But I think because a bunch of 25-year-olds are asking me on dates, I do look better. –Sharon Stone

Yes, Sharon Stone, it’s because you’re ‘forgiving and embracing’ that 25 year old men are asking you out.

It’s definitely not because you’re SHARON FUCKING STONE.

Seriously though, I’m going to go with Sharon on this, I’m definitely maturing like a fine freaking wine! We’re always told that women become progressively less and less attractive as they age, and that men just get better and better. But personally I’m finding the older I get, the better I know myself, and the better I know myself, the better I like myself.

And the better I like myself, the more others seem to appreciate my awesomeness.

Now maybe I have an ulterior motive here, I DO have a birthday coming up, and my bones are half dust. I’m not quite at the wrinkled-knees stage yet (thanks for the heads-up on that though, Sharon) but I ain’t getting any younger… I’m just fairly sure I’m getting better!

So what does everyone think?

Ladies, do you feel more attractive than you did last year? Or am I fooling myself? Were we all hotter when we were 20?

VIVA LA MATURE LADY!

Run Katie, Run!

Faster Katie, he’s beside you! (Hehe, I can see his nips!)

Katie Holmes’ shock exit from her marriage to Tom Cruise is starting to look increasingly like a blueprint for leaving an abusive relationship. This is one of those partnerships that always struck me as bizarre. We hear a lot about how crazy controlling Tom is, and how messed up the demands of scientology are.

Now details are emerging that Katie used a burner* to hire legal representation in THREE freaking states (three) and wants to change Suri’s name to Scout. Using a throwaway cellphone is one of the tips given to women trying to leave an abusive partner, along with making a plan and confiding in a friend. Weirdly, an early warning sign of an abusive partner is rushing the early stages of the relationship.

I know I’m idly speculating here, but remember this?

Creepy.

Yep. No one was buying that shit, Tom. Mainly because you seem pretty gay, but also because the couch-jumping was just so freaking insincere! There’s just something troubling about this guy, he seems so ill at ease with himself and as a consequence his relationships with women never quite seem right. Rumour has it the ladies in Tom’s life sign a contract and that seems like a likely scenario, a few quid for 5 years service, a few extra for 10, jackpot for the baby-mamas. Scientology is weird man!

Meanwhile, Tom’s camp invite us to believe that he wanted a divorce, because he’s involved with his Oblivion co-star Olga Kurylenko.

Yep… alright Tom…again, just… whatever.

Either way this is a great message to women in controlling/abusive relationships. Make a plan and get out.

VIVA LA FREEDOM!

*A burner is a mobile phone you buy expressly for one purpose and then throw away. (Watch The Wire for more burner related information, and just general awesomeness.)

“The Rules”

So we all know that as women we’re expected to act as the sexual gate-keepers. Because all we want is a husband and men don’t respect women who have sex on the first date. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? (Ugh, and I’m the cow I suppose? Christ, fucking patriarchy.)

‘The Rules’ is a book that claims to contain ‘time tested secrets for capturing the heart of mister right’. The secret seems to be that all men want from you is sex, so by delaying business-time we ladies can score ourselves a happy ever after.

Firstly the whole idea revolves around the fact that men only want sex. Sure SOME men only want a quick fumble, just like some women! But some men want to woo you and hold your hand and cuddle with you and just generally have an adult relationship. The book treats male sexuality as entirely focussed on the easy lay and relies on the idea of men who stop respecting you at the exact moment of penetration.

In terms of female sexuality, ‘The Rules’ and it’s ilk would like to completely deny its existence. These rules imply you’re alone because you’re too easy. You are a slut, and men don’t like sluts. This is the exact same patriarchal bullshit that society has been shaming women with since the dawn of time. There is nothing wrong with wanting to have sex, women have sexual urges too, and it’s ok to act on them WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE IT! If that means waiting for any given length of time or launching straight into the nasty on the first date that’s TOTALLY cool.

Theres a sexual double standard at play which tells us that women who like sex are sluts, while men are players. There’s absolutely no need to be ashamed of your sexuality ladies! And a book that tells you it’s only use is manipulating men into marriage should probably be burned.

VIVA LA SEXUAL FREEDOM!

“If you’re talking to a woman on that phone, it should be me or your mother” *

“Yeah, I’ll check his email. I’ll check his Twitter. I’ll check his phone. Everything seems fine,” she said. “He says I’m a jealous girl, but I think I’m fairly laidback, considering.”

Oh my, Jools Oliver, wife of Jamie, you are NOT fairly laid-back, you are quite paranoid and neurotic. You are, however, in good company.

Technology and social media make keeping tabs on your significant other easy and quick and the temptation is ever-present. In this weekends Sunday Times Style magazine interview Mrs. Oliver comes off as anxiety ridden, so it’s unsurprising that she needs to keep tabs on Jamie.

We all know it’s easy to become paranoid; he’s always on his damn phone, and he brings it to the bathroom, why does he need his phone in the bathroom? WHAT IS HE HIDING! But it’s a vicious circle Jools, keep checking and eventually you’ll find something to worry about. Also as a general rule of thumb, I think we can agree it’s cool to check his phone and his twitter and his Facebook and secretly follow him while wearing a wig. But don’t TELL him that! And definitely don’t announce it in the Sunday Times, they’ll all find out what we’ve been up to!

Other gems from Mrs. Oliver include her complete lack of ambition for her children:

“I don’t think they’ll go to university, Jamie and I didn’t.”

So you don’t expect Poppy Honey, Daisy Boo, Petal Blossom and Buddy Bear to excel academically? But their names inspire such respect, surely a glittering career in academia awaits!

Nah, seriously, I’m not going to pontificate about how to have a successful marriage or parent your kids (I don’t have a boyfriend and I think my plant is dead.) But PLEASE let the kids get a degree if that’s what they’re into, and for Gods sake, keep snooping but STOP talking about it!

You’re making us look bad in front of the men-folk!

VIVA LA PARANOIA!

*The wisdom of Janelle from Teen Mom 2.

Porn for Women

I juddered to an earth shattering orgasm, falling apart into a million billion shards of pure pleasure as Edward Christian grazes a thumb on my wrist. I’m still fully dressed, im biting my lip, it’s midday and I’m a spilt-personality 20 year old virgin who never masturbates… I swear.

50 Shades of Grey is the fastest selling novel of all time. So what’s it got that Moby Dick doesn’t?

In a word: sex.

S&M has gone mainstream and the ladies are loving it. It doesn’t matter that the kink is tame, or that the main character refers to her gash as down there. It doesn’t even matter that the sadist of the piece contractually prohibits himself from all the really sadistic stuff, and contents himself with a constant stream of conventional boning and the odd slap on the arse. After all sadists just want to be loved… and to buy you a car and a Macbook pro… and clean plates, sadists really like a clean plate… EAT, DAMN IT!

On the plus side 50 shades celebrates kink. It’s great that the mainstream is acknowledging that people are out there, doing the bold in many different and interesting ways. On the minus side we get a heroine who generally just lies there like a sack of spuds having unlikely orgasm after orgasm while her cringe-making ‘inner goddess’ and slut-shaming ‘subconscious’ grapple with the ins and outs of S&M.

It’s not exactly an empowering depiction of female sexuality, in fact it’s closer to How to Marry a Milionaire. 

Whats really great about a book like 50 Shades is the endless discussions it prompts; about men and women and power and money and sex and kink and more sex. Not to mention how brilliantly awful the film version is likely to be!

VIVA LA S&M!

Textration*

I have good news and bad news: The good news is I’m finally on the SOS ’12 scoreboard, I finally got the ware last night! The bad news is that he’s never going to text. Now I’m going to waste valuable blogging time staring at my phone and thinking every text is some declaration of lust from a man I’ve met once and didn’t entirely like.

So why do I want him to text? And why is it that if I like a guy he NEVER texts but if I don’t he DEFINITELY will? What is it about indifference that floats a mans boat?

Another of my many, MANY issues is highlighted by the fact that this was a man who seemed strange and slightly rude to me. Terrible dancer, kissed me without actually touching me (well, our faces were touching, but you get me!) weird banter, drunk, the whole bastard-shaped package really. He seemed, if I’m entirely honest, like a bit of a prick.

What is it about indifference that floats MY boat!?

Like anyone else, I want what I can’t have. I suppose it’s the same for the men I meet. If I like them, I let it show, so they know they can have me, and never text! It’s a vicious circle really!

Either way a win is a win!

VIVA LA POINT!

* © Isabelle 2012

Slut-Shaming

This is the kind of thing that really gets my slut-blood boiling: The Shanghai Metro micro-blogged this picture of a normal woman going about her own business with the warning:

“Dressing like that, it would be unusual for a lady not be harassed. There can be perverts on the subway and it’s hard to get rid of them. Please have self respect, ladies.”

Eh, are you fucking kidding me Shanghai Metro? Have SELF-RESPECT? By dressing as I’m TOLD? The harassers AREN’T responsible for the harassment, the fucking VICTIMS are? 

This is yet another example in a long line of victim-blaming, slut-shaming logic in the guise of helpful hints about womanhood. It’s the same logic that asks a rape victim what she was wearing or why she was alone.

It holds the victims of sexual harassment and assault accountable for the crimes perpetrated against them and paints men as animalistic, liable to rape and pillage at a moments notice. Or at least maul women on public transport when faced with a short skirt.

There is no level of undress that makes uninvited groping acceptable!

We’ll wear what we want, Shanghai Metro!

VIVA LA SLUT!

Pubes – A Feminist Issue

In the interests of full-disclosure I should begin by saying that I’ve recently spent months with absolutely no pubic hair whatsoever.

The waxing itself was not the ordeal I had thought it would be, 6 minutes of discomfort resulted in a very smooth pubis and an undeserved feeling of achievement.

When I was completely hairless from the neck down I somehow feel less exposed when naked, i felt cleaner, beach and sex-ready and more aerodynamic. Now though, the hair is growing back, and its thrown me into a pube-based dilemma.

To wax or not to wax?

Part of the issue is that no-one’s likely to see the area, aside from the waxer herself. I know from experience that my dry-spells are more epic-droughts. A man has never commented on my pubes -positively or negatively, and I wouldn’t avoid sex if I was unwaxed. If a guy ever asked me to wax I think I’d be offended. If I ever slept with a man who had been waxed I’d laugh.

When hairless I must admit I felt a bit pornified: Was I betraying the sisterhood? Was I infantalizing myself by publically mimicking a pre-pubescent girl? Hair removal is oddly charged with female self loathing and perpetuation of the patriarchy. (Grrr… Patriarchy!) Exposed hairy legs inspire revulsion, because leg shaving is a standard, are our labia heading in the same direction?

What do you think sluts? And how are your gashes groomed?

VIVA LA GASH!