Fear of a White . . . You Know
OK, after another inexcusable absence, I finally came up something I wanted to talk about here. I've planned out a whole series on what drives me as a writer. Not my name-by-name influences, per se, but more of a general overview of the forces which feed my creativity, shaping it like wind and water erosion shape the land. (That there was one of them fancy metaphors.) This may bore you to tears, but writing these things helps me to define them for my own purposes. You're just along for the ride.
So . . . I had this whole thing worked out in my head about Movies, and how Movies influence me more than books, and I was all set to write it when The News broke. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. The only headline-worthy happening of the past week:
Britney Spears Doesn't Wear
I'm embarrassed to admit that this grabbed my attention, and even more embarrassed to admit that I clicked on over to check out the pix. (I won't bother supplying a link. If you're curious, just Google "Britney Panties" and you will get 6 million hits. The photos- and there are many- are all over the place.) Apparently, Britney has been hanging out with Paris Hilton and Lyndsey Lohan, and to be in their club you have to flash your naked genitals at the paparazzi every time you get out of a vehicle.
Personally, I've never found Britney Spears very interesting, either as a musician or as a sex symbol. Her music and her image have always been too obviously manufactured to be in any way exciting. Her recent multiple pregnancies, newfound let-it-all-hang-out-there trailer-trashiness and liberating divorce from that loser-boy HAVE allowed some humanity to peak through the cracks. (That was NOT a pun.) But still, she's not that fascinating of a person.
Furthermore, I have no particular prejudice against the whole "commando" issue. (Called "free ballin'" in men.) In fact, I've always thought it was kind of chic.
So why I am I bothering to mention this on my blog? What did strike me as interesting were some of the blogger comments prefacing the photos. Britney's vagina was described by one blogger as "not for the faint of heart." Another advised viewers of the pictures to "make sure to look at them on an empty stomach." Even the (relatively) high-brow news site CNN.com said "be prepared to cringe." (Also, I believe that was the first time I ever read the phrase "panty-less crotch" in a mainstream news web-site.)
What gives? Why all the vag-hate? I mean, Britney's whole career is built on seduction and tease. Isn't this where the seduction leads? Isn't the vagina the ultimate pinnacle of female sexuality? Isn't it, in fact, the whole point? Why react with disgust? I mean, I LIKE vaginas. (In an entirely non-sexist, Eve Ensler, sacred feminine sort of way, of course.) It's where we all came from, after all. Brit's "area" is not in any way extraordinary. (Though I've never understood the appeal of the "bald" look.) So why cringe?
I don't know. Just struck me as weird. I promise I'll get to that movie discussion next time (in a more timely manner) and won't discuss genitals here until my upcoming 12-part series: "The Penis Monologues." Stay tuned.