In one week, I’m celebrating a BIG birthday: 30! In acknowledgment of the fact that I’ve spent over half of my 20s working at The Frisky, I’m going to reach down deep into to archives and revisit some old posts. I’ll examine what I wrote at the time and how that has or hasn’t changed. If you have any suggestions of old posts you’d like me to revisit, tell me in the comments or shoot me an email at Jessica@TheFrisky.com. First up …
The Post: “Why I Like Being Called A Slut In Bed”
Publication Date: February 2, 2011 Keep reading »
“How do women decide to begin a sexual relationship? Pricing!”
The above video showed up in my Facebook feed the other night. It’s from a purported think tank, the Austin Institute for the Study of Family and Culture, which is actually a Christian think tank/advocacy group. The video claims to be a scientific look at the “Economics of Sex” based on the concept that men want sex for its own sake but women want sex for intimacy, security and, ultimately, marriage. Therefore sex is a “resource,” subject to supply and demand, which women control. “Men know that sex is cheap these days if they know where to look!” we are told. The video then implores women to dole out the supply of their resource to men (the “demand”) in exchange for other stuff. Essentially: ‘All sex is prostitution and women are prostitutes.’ Hello, Christian Right! Thought you were in there somewhere.
There’s so much in this video that makes me mad, I almost don’t know where to start: the fact that it’s a call to female solidarity drawn and directed entirely by men; the fact that they talk about women ‘policing women’s relationship interests’ when they mean slut shaming; the comparison of the birth control pill to chemical pesticides; the blazing heteronormativity. Smart women have already chimed in on this stuff, though, so I’ll focus on the completely bullshit notion that “men want sex more than women do.” I’m not saying this statement is untrue — I’m saying it’s utter nonsense to which no truth value can be assigned.
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Like many daydreamers, I often think about time periods other than the one I’m currently living in that I would most likely enjoy. I usually settle on the roaring ’20s (it’s easy to get caught up in how cute everyone would look with flapper dresses and bobbed hair). Then I remember, of course, what the ’20s were actually like. Women had only recently secured the right to vote, abortion was illegal, penicillin and birth control were very new, and employment opportunities were still divided into men- and women-only. (Guess who had the less attractive options?)
This little game is just a daydream. Yet it ends up always serving as a reminder that I’m fortunate to be a woman the 21st century. And that’s a reminder I’m ashamed to admit, as a feminist, that I need somewhat often. There are times when being a woman even in 2014 feels disappointing — things should be better, things should have changed more. I’m privileged as an educated white, middle-class woman that these things are as few as they are. But one of the very biggest areas that needs changing is women writing about sex. Keep reading »
All of a sudden this weekend, a bunch of friends began passing around the same Business Insider article on Facebook, called “A Beautiful House In Brooklyn Is Secretly Being Used For Upscale Sex Parties” by Megan Rose Dickey.
Uh oh, I thought, having read only the headline .
I immediately knew two things. One, I know the house and parties they’re talking about. Some secret. And two, um, what exactly do you mean by a “beautiful” house is being used for “upscale” sex parties? Keep reading »
“I was so nervous about [filming Marnie's masturbation scene], Lena [Dunham] brought me in the dressing room and we took turns being up against the door. I would go ‘Do you think it should look like this,’ and then she’d say ‘No, no, no, no, hey, you sit down, I’m gonna try it,’ and it was like ‘Oh, that’s so interesting, because I was picturing like this.’ We were trying to decide, because Marnie was wearing tights and a dress, does she like, pull up the dress and then go down the tights? Or does she pull down the tights and then pull up the dress?”
Why am I not surprised that Lena Dunham was hands-on in helping Allison Williams with Marnie’s masturbation scene? Even though I didn’t find it super-realistic that someone would go masturbate in a bathroom in the middle of a party, good on “Girls” for showing women masturbating as a completely normal thing to do. If Allison has it her way, Marnie will be rubbing one out a lot more. ”I hope Marnie can find a way to somehow fulfill herself. I hope that she starts masturbating more, doing whatever she has to do to be her own person,” the actress told Dazed Digital. “There’s nothing quite like knowing that you can make it on your own. It’s very empowering.” Indeed! Something tells me Jessa could help Marnie shop for the perfect vibe. [Dazed Digital]
You can hear Mama June use her very original euphemisms as she gives the girls a talk about the birds and the bees on tonight’s season premiere of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.” If it’s unclear, the fruit loop is part of the biscuit, which is a part of the woman’s “privatal area.” It’s called a fruit loop because “guys go loopy over it.” Obviously. [People]
Given how more than one huffing and puffing old man has suffered a heart attack underneath his mistress, you might believe a romp is the sack is akin to a SoulCycle session. Your heart rate is going! You sweat! Afterwards you want a Gatorade!
Well, The New York Times Magazine is here to burst your bubble. Keep reading »
This is The Frisky, where we’ve got sex on the brain all the time. Ordering at Sonic. Clipping our toenails. Eating Thanksgiving dinner. All the time. And it just so happens that certain dishes in a traditional Thanksgiving dinner remind of the sex acts we are grateful for all year long. Come on, you know you want to find out what cranberry sauce represents. Keep reading »
One of the hazards of apartment living are thin walls and floors that share your every “Oh, baby!” and bed creak with your neighbors. It’s part of life. You get used to it. All of us have sex (I hope) and no one’s sex should be ruined by whiny neighbors.
The polite thing to do when neighbors are having noisy sex is just ignore those amorous rumbles and smile awkwardly at each other in the hallways, pretending you don’t know they just got banged last night. Only in the most extreme of circumstances — I’m talking you’ve got the flu and a newborn baby — can you bang on the walls. Two or three good thumps should do.
But it’s a violation of alllll kinds of rules of decorum and not-being-an-asshole-hood to post a sign on your neighbor’s front door bitching about their noisy sex. And adding a dis about their stamina?! Oh no, you didn’t! Allow me to introduce you to the lady from Apartment 517 and her crappy sign-writing neighbor. Keep reading »
There’s a lot that I don’t remember from high school. Algebra. Most of the Italian language. But something my high school health teacher said about premarital sex is still embedded in my mind 10 years on.
She said that on our wedding night, when we have sex with our (future) husband or wife, all the other people we’ve slept with would be sleeping alongside us. She meant it figuratively, of course — she was trying to get us to think about promiscuity through the frame of premarital sex being a bad thing. How crowded, she seemed to be asking, did we want our marital bed mattress to be? Keep reading »