Let’s Get It On
To maintain a squeaky-clean reputation, many pop
artists cloak their references in expert innuendo.
“Side to Side,” Ariana Grande
Ariana Grande’s hit collab with Nicki Minaj was
almost too explicit for daytime listening.
Minaj’s verse contains the phrase “dick bicycle,”
which is pretty self explanatory.
The “side to side” movement discussed in the song is the
I’m-so-sore wobble that accompanies a dick bicycle ride.
“Genie In A Bottle,” Christina Aguilera
You thought it was just about genies and bottles and having a
good time. Let me spoil it for you: “rub me the right way”
is absolutely not about a lamp.
Let’s Get It On
All That Junk
Whatcha gon’ do with all that junk
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk
Get you love drunk off my hump
Whatcha gon’ do with all that ass
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’ma make, make, make, make you scream
Politically Correct Vagina
What Rhymes with Hunt?
Our tolerance for what is edgy is changing. Unmentionable for so long, referred to with euphemisms such as “down there” and “hoo-ha,” the anatomically correct “vagina” has gone mainstream.
It’s now become not just acceptable in many circles but fashionable. It’s being used as a punch line on sitcoms and in movies.
Many women see the recent ubiquity of the term as more progress toward equality with men, but not everyone is welcoming the vagina vanguard. Some see the sudden omnipresence of female anatomy as a sign of a coarsening culture, a lack of creativity, or just a new way to objectify women.
Lady Gaga drew protests in Asia this spring after performing in front of a giant prop of a birthing mother and telling audiences to “think of this arena as a vagina where you will be reborn.”
The Catholic League is boycotting”The Daily Show” because of a recent skit in which a manger was shown between a naked woman’s legs, linking the “war on women” with the “war on Christmas.”
Why is the lady business booming? In part, it’s because women raised in an era of sexual frankness are at a point in their lives where they’re in positions of authority and cultural influence,
The word “vagina” is medical enough to sound grown up and blunt enough not be cutesy. It is still jarring in normal conversation but you can mention it on prime-time TV.
“Muffin,” for example, might work in the family hour, but it doesn’t pack enough aggressive wallop. Cunt packs too much. And because it’s an anatomical term, vagina gets a pass that a pornier sounding turn of phrase would not. Enter vagina, laughing.
But why is the vagina having a moment now? A recent Associated Press story on “The vagina’s growing public profile” says it’s part of a “trend of women saying, ‘Hey, we’re not embarrassed to talk about this.’”
The liberation of language could be read by some as barometer of how far women have come as creators of television content.
Really? Does all this “Power to the V” and chatting about pubic tattoos on late-night talk shows represent emancipation, linguistic or otherwise?
It doesn’t take long, when you’re thinking of a put-down or a punchline, to veer toward the genitals or their excretory and sexual functions.
And why not? Our privates truly are the core of our humanity. They motivate and enthrall and sometimes disappoint and embarrass us, yet keep the species going.
For now, “vagina” is still the Voldemort of prime time, a word that has been unspoken for so long that it has a mystical, fearsome ability to shock. So simple. So plain. So powerful.
Yet we are still coy about the language we use to talk about female genitalia. It seems impossible to reclaim “cunt” from misogynists who regard it as the most offensive swear word possible.
We should condemn all the cutesy little girlisms used by advertisers when they are trying to convince women that they smell, or sweat, or are otherwise disgusting and need to buy something so that they will not be cast out from society as menstruating pariahs.
“Expert care for down there,” trills the deodorising brand Femfresh. “Mini, twinkle, hoo haa, fancy, yoni, lady garden . . . va jay jay, kitty, nooni, la la, froo froo . . . Whatever you call it, love it!”
These are grown women who have smear tests and we expect them to simper, “Doctor, I’m worried about my . . . nooni. You know, my . . . fancy.” Give me strength.