I was
about to click away to something less offensive and then…
The happy little feminist in my head was like, hold up bitch,
what is offensive about a clitoris? What is offensive about a labia majora,
leading inwards to a vagina? What is ‘offensive’ about the surrounding pubic
hair? What is innately so disgusting about something a woman is born with, and
grows to become an integral part of her life, through sex, through childbirth, purely
just as the most intimate part of her body?
What’s offensive isn’t the body part (although physically,
it was disarming to see, because one rarely gets such a direct view through the
kaleidoscopic vaginacam). What’s offensive is, firstly, society obsesses and
obsesses over what’s beneath a girl’s skirt and whose property it is. To
finally see the female crown jewels is something fairly destructive to the
hype.
But secondly, the vagina is secret women’s business, is it
not? Us men go down on you as little as possible[1], enter
it in the dark, and when you finally pop out that kid for us, we’ll stay in the
waiting room, thank you very much!
If it isn’t ‘offensive’; if it isn’t harmful, or cause for uproar;
if it isn’t a violation of people’s eyes, why did they have to put black bars
over the labias in the first place?
First off, they didn’t do shit to cover the goods. They were
opaque and thin, and did what society does anyway – show everything except the
main attraction.
What’s ‘offensive’ is acting like the vagina is dangerous,
or ugly, or innately unattractive, or something that should never be a part of
public discourse. Because you (the
invisible evil media man) made every vagina a part of public discourse. You can’t
represent female sexuality in so many other offensive ways, in music videos and
objectifying television shows and films, and then put a black bar to attempt to
half-cover the reality. Well… I mean… clearly you can, because that’s exactly
what you did. But you shouldn’t be able
to, goddamnit!
The misogynistic comments that sprung up like wildfire in
response to the cover were upsetting to say the least. Sometimes I’d like to
put a nice big black piece of masking tape over certain people’s mouths rather
than their vaginas. Men ranked the parts on the cover; critiqued what they called ‘excess’ pubic
hair. Some of them just responded by saying ‘gross’.
So…not that they deserve the dignity of a response, but I’ve
got three. One. If I ranked your dick last on some arbitrary criteria, without
even knowing how it reacts, or who it’s attached to, and mocked it in front of
you, would you like me? No. If that analogy was too confusing, all you need to
know is that you’re an asshole who should speak less. If at all.
Two. Sorry if some of us don’t like having hot wax poured on our genitals and then ripped off so we can be nice and
hairless like a prepubescent child for you, for three weeks, until we have to
go and do it again. Maybe you should consider taming your Amazonian region. No?
That’s gay? Oh, ok. Well enjoy your hand.
Thirdly, the vagina isn’t ‘gross’. It’s fucking beautiful,
and if you find it so gross, enjoy celibacy. This is why it never made sense for
calling someone a ‘pussy’ to imply weakness – pussies can expand and contract
immensely; pussies can give birth. The walls are damn strong. LEGIT have you
EVER considered the implications of a vagina being taut around both the average
sized penis AND an arriving human? That science is cray. If there is any body
part with the capacity to heal itself and recover from sexual assault, painful
sex or childbirth, it is the royal vajayjay. So next time someone
calls you a pussy, thank them.
And how do we ascribe strength? ‘Maaaaahtteee. You’ve got
balls.’ Yes. You have balls. And if I knee you in them, you’ll be rolling
around like a wounded chained-up Gollum[2].
But oh no! We weren’t just worried about the vagina, were
we? We were worried about a clitoris peeking through here and there. ‘You’re
allowed to show a vagina!’ laughs whatever evil old white man decided indecency
laws. ‘It just has to be a single crease!’
...What the fuck? Who decided that and why? ‘You’re allowed to
show a vagina, just on the condition that it could be mistake for your elbow
bend or some other vague unidentifiable section of skin!’ Whoopdeedoo. You may
as well say, ‘You’re allowed to show a vagina, on the condition it looks
nothing like an actual vagina.’
I guess that’s our story, isn’t? ‘You’re allowed to show a
woman, on the condition that she’s as generic, passive and non-idiosyncratic as
a white A4 piece of paper.’ As long as she fits our arbitrary criteria
determining what is perfect and everything else; what deserves to see the light
of day and what doesn’t.
Well just as I’d like to see more women who aren’t 5’10”,
blonde with an eating disorder[3], I’d
like to see more hairy unconventional in your face deal with it I’m here I’m
loud I’m proud straight up cunts. And you can’t stop me, because I have google.
It was was the fact that we could see the labia minora, too,
the clitoral hood, the clitoris, the big happy family. The whole shebang. AKA,
what female genitals actually look like.
So of all the nudie Honi covers, it was these little buttons
that were causing a lot of the fuss. But the clitoris? Offensive? I don’t buy
it.
What could possibly be offensive about such a joyous
collection of nerve endings? One can only draw the conclusion that the people
drawing black bars over clitorises haven’t been into contact with one lately.
Weeks ago, the Sydney Morning Herald printed photographs of
charred bodies in a death pit in the depths of Syria. They had been burned alive.
It wasn’t something I expected to come across over my bowl of cereal, I’ll be
honest; the Herald usually fills out pictures of Megan Gale with stories about
pet grooming competitions. I was a little bit taken aback, and lost my appetite.
But the thing is, I built myself a little bridge, and got
the fuck over it.
How, as a society, have we determined a collection of vaginas doing nothing other than existing to be more offensive than a collection
of charred, murdered corpses?
One of the arguments that was bound to pop up, was what if a
little girl sees it? What then? Wouldn’t her eyes melt and her brain explode?
If I had a daughter I would show her this intentionally and
explain to her what it meant. ‘See Blue Ivy? The vagina is special, and there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s not defined by what
clothes you wear, or how much makeup you put on, or how you do your hair, or
who you’re dating. It’s defined by how you feel about it and if you respect it.
It doesn’t matter if you’re Miley Cyrus or Sandra Oh, we’re all on the same
playing field. It will always be there for you and it will be an important part
of your life, and will probably bring you a lot of happiness. There's nothing
to be afraid of about your body parts. But as for the rest of being a woman,
well get ready for some fucked up shit.’
Yep. Parenting 101 right there.
But at the end of the day, I can joke and say sassy things…
but how sad, that my first reaction was one of horror, towards a body part I
myself have and appreciate every day. How sad, that I had first wished the
whole cover didn’t exist. How sad that although I developed my reaction through
further thought, my first reaction stung of self-hatred.
And now? Well... the next time someone unlocks my phone and
sees my wallpaper, they’re in for a rude awakening.
Note: Thank you to all those involved in the making of the
cover. To the women, you are very brave and wonderful. To the makers…brilliant.
Just brilliant.
No comments:
Post a Comment