Like, an examination of female sexuality, yeah?

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July 19, 2012 by Lindsay Sharman

I saw Magic Mike last night, which delivered a powerful message about how we cheapen ourselves with cartoonish expressions of sexuality for the gratification of others and…..and… Channing Tatum looks so good in a thong. Jesus Christ, I didn’t think anyone looked good in a thong. And his moves, SWEET LORD his thrusting hips, I think my eyeballs are pregnant, I’m weeping oestrogen tears, MAN ALIVE…

So considering the mother-lovin glory of Magic Mike (really average film, by the way, but that’s like complaining that the fridge didn’t get fixed in a porno) and the success of 50 Shades of Grey, I’ve had a bit of a revelation. Female sexuality is about as nuanced as a rhinestone posing pouch. Looks like we might not have such delicate and refined sensibilities after all.

A few years ago, for my sister Hayley’s hen do, I arranged a tasteful viewing of the art of male striptease at a special Stringfellow’s night, hiding my sleazy curiosity behind hackneyed tradition. Mum ignored the ‘don’t touch’ rule to heartily slap a male stripper on the arse. Hayley had a bra draped round her neck as she received a dance from a man and woman at the same time (she’d accidentally agreed to it due to chronic Britishness – a combination of politeness and intoxication.) It was fun. But it wasn’t particularly titillating for any of us, although that’s probably because of the presence of family. We might be from Norfolk, but that doesn’t do it for us.

Anyway, my point is……. I can’t remember. My mind keeps sliding back to Magic Mike. Cwoooooarrrrr!

So, yeah. The hen do wasn’t titillating, but I reckon it could have been, had it been done a bit more like the film (better dancing, more show-boating, more attractive men, popcorn).

I reckon businesses might start catering to women’s baser instincts a bit more now, which would result in increasing pressure on men to look good and be able to do saucy stripper moves in clubs and bedrooms. There will always be hyper-sexualised images and entertainment available for public consumption, so I think this is probably a good thing. It’s a realistic form of equality, in a way. And a chance for me to openly leer and make people feel uncomfortable, which is super.

Feel free to argue with me about all this. In the meantime, I’ll be writing some dirty piece of plot-less filth and vigorously eating popcorn.


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