(So, I have spent my whole day ranting fiercely over this blog, and an hour ago I was informed that someone has basically put their hand in my mouth and stolen my words and blasted them all over national TV. Hallelujah girl! I am utterly thrilled that someone thinks the same as me and has the power to spread the love. Here are the words, with more descriptions, more comparisons and more fire. It’s also written in a Welsh accent.)
In my last blog I raised the question – would you rather your daughter took cocaine every weekend or slept with a different man every weekend… but it seems that the more topical reality would be – would you rather your daughter had sex with someone on TV or be aggressive, unkind and unstable on live TV. Sex loses again.
ITV’s latest addictive trash TV Love Island has revealed everything that’s wrong with the beauty pageant world and more than that it’s shown me how much of a problem the way the most intelligent animal on earth, us humans, treat sex.
If you’ve got a great, fun filled life and have managed to avoid being on the sofa at 9pm every night for the last two weeks then, firstly bloody good for you, and secondly let me quickly get you up to date.
Like every other reality programme ‘Love Island’ is simply an anthropology study. This one is played out as a competition, and focuses particularly on our understanding, reactions and morals in relationships.
One of the contestants in the house happens to be Miss GB, and as part of the competition she had to spend a night in a bed with a rather bloody gorgeous pineapple haired, Tarzan shouldered male.
Absolutely bizarrely, she got turned on, and God forbid, did something about it.
As a result, the Miss GB sex police had a little tantrum. They publicly shamed her for her actions, and with a tut, frown and a slap on the clit, they snatched her crown and gave it to the runner up who they’re hoping and praying has no libido whatsoever.
A few days later, another contestant, Kady, couldn’t deal with her jealousy, paranoia, confusion in the house and dealt with it horribly, ending up frantically screaming abuse at another contestant over a fence, May I add, probably the most unimaginative abuse I’ve heard this year so far, “Your dress is shit”…. Good one babes. Really good one. You know someone out there has created the meme already…
Now, to go back to my opening statement, if I was a parent I know which one I’d be most worried about. Yet, who do you think has made the media moist? Who do you think has been slut-shamed by most papers out there…
Zara, although she was as likeable as a smear test to begin with, she did absolutely nothing disrespectful or untoward to anyone, and yet it’s her that’s been uncrowned, shamed and who has now left the house with her tail between her ass. All because she had sex.
Did we see her fucking like a spaniel on heat and forcing the rest of the house to watch? Did we hear her squealing like a piglet keeping everyone awake at ungodly hours? Did we see her selling blow jobs for a fiver and calling herself an entrepreneur?
Did we hell! There was a slight kerfuffle under the sheets, a few tactically placed fireworks to imply orgasms and then we saw her giggle and lick her lips. For all we know she might have had corn on the cob for tea and a pube had just flossed out a bit of stubborn kernel.
Good TV editors know what they’re doing, one should never assume.
For crying out loud, Sex is a need, a physical animalistic need. It’s not a treat, it’s not that cheeseboard you shouldn’t have, it isn’t that sequinned kimono that you can’t afford and it definitely isn’t that Tuesday afternoon full body massage when you owe your mate a hundred quid for the electric bill.
It’s a need, you can’t ignore it, so why are women regularly punished, embarrassed, uncrowned for wanting it?
Yes, maybe Zara was aware that as ‘Miss GB’ she wasn’t allowed to have sex, but haven’t we all been there, in a bed with someone we can’t do anything sexual with? If you haven’t, I urge you to try it. It’s the most exciting, frustrating, excruciating thing EVER. There’s never a time your senses are more heightened than when you’re so turned on you can hardly remember your own name. You’re laying there with your clit throbbing as if you’ve just closed it in a door, your breath is as if you’ve just swam 4 lengths for your 1000m badge to sew on your swimsuit, and all four of your limbs are twitching like that poor ant you’ve just flicked off your naked lollipop stick…It’s fierce.
I have to ask what Miss GB’s slut-shaming team were expecting when they “allowed” Zara to go into the house to partake in a competition that involves a house full of attractive single people trying to couple up? Were they expecting that maybe, as their dark age sexist pageant competition crowned her a “princess” she didn’t have any sexual needs? Maybe they believe that when the crown sits on your head it squashes your libido? Maybe they thought the title ‘Miss GB’ alone numbs every erogenous zone on your body for a year? Maybe they let her go on there to be a role model to other girls of how you should never ‘give in’ to a man, or ‘give yourself away too early’… you know those harmful concepts that ruin girls’ sex lives forever? That concept that sex isn’t to be enjoyed by girls, it is a prize that you give a man once he’s dutifully earned it.
My main purpose here wasn’t to slag off beauty pageants, I am writing this blog to point out how media-influenced we are with regards to sex, and I don’t think we realise the extent of it.
If there are enough headlines telling us that this girl or woman is ‘wrong’, ‘dirty’ ‘shameful’ for having sex with that person, in that place, in front of those people, then it is too easy to get brainwashed, and end up half-heartedly agreeing with these ridiculous claims and subconsciously skip on to the slut-shaming bandwagon dragging others with us.
Why aren’t we as a generation creating a stink about how old-fashioned and damaging these beauty pageants are? Why aren’t we shaming them for their bizarre, sexist, dampening rules and regulations of what a strong female role model should be?
If these ridiculous pageants are to continue, why can’t we campaign for the first Miss GB with wonky teeth, a sense of humour and one tit considerably larger than the other, who was genuinely involved in charity work before she realised she had great legs to promote a fake tan brand? Why don’t we ‘crown’ women who speak up, who don’t conform, who make history and make their own choices due to what they feel is right rather than spend their time trying to conform to what a rule book written in 1945 says? In 1974 the Welsh Miss World contestant Helen Morgan, was asked to resign when they discovered she had a child. Although this didn’t technically break any written rules, she was asked to resign to avoid ’embarrassment’. So she basically lost her crown for having sex once. Have things improved in 42 years?
The thing that smacks me in the face is the hypocrisy of the whole pageant. If you google Zara, Miss GB, every picture that comes up is of her in a dress or a bikini looking as sexy as she physically can, yet she is not allowed to play that part. She must look sexy but she must not be sexy or partake in any sexiness. Do team Miss GB believe a woman is to be admired, as a trophy, a doll, but must not come alive? Are we happy with that notion being plastered all over the media for the next generation? Is that a strong female role model?
Some of you might think, ‘Leave them to it, if that’s what they want to do, it doesn’t affect us, they know what they’re letting themselves in for when they put themselves up for it’ and that’s where I disagree. Right now, there are thousands of girls on their iphones, swiping through facebook, browsing on twitter, who are reading that what Zara has done is disgraceful, and are being made to believe that if they act in that same way, they will ruin their chances of ever being a thing of ‘beauty’, a ‘princess’ or a strong female role model.
This is disastrous.
Which is why, fellow humans, ones with breasts and ones without, we need to speak up and put our opinions out there, loudly for the next generation to see,hear and believe.
Let’s become strong female role models together. Let’s support each other in our choices, be it publicly or privately. Let’s not shame each other, or conform to anyone, let’s be individuals, together.
Together is Stronger.