Did you love the 90s?
Of course you did. Everybody did! I'm pretty sure Buzzfeed employs a person on a full-time salary whose sole job is to compile weekly lists of things we loved in the 90s, from Tamagotchis to Hey Arnold to Ring Pops. It was a beautiful time, when everything was neon and nothing hurt.
Some of the best 90s memorabilia -especially if you were a gender-conforming 11 year old girl - was the stationery. But, just for a moment, I want you to forget about Lisa Frank and the pointless gunk that was glitter glue (let's be real, that stuff's adhesive properties were nil).
Today I want to give a shout out to the one, the only, Squiggle Wiggle Writer*.
Otherwise know as My First Vibrator for adolescent girls everywhere.
"Banana" -really? The second most phallic word in the English language?
If you didn't personally explore your young, burgeoning sexuality by holding a vibrating pen against your crotch while the rest of your family were downstairs watching The Wonder Years, that's okay, but I guarantee you know someone who did. Ask around. You'll see.
That its vibrating motor mechanism was identical to the one used in my current, grown-up, purpose-built vibrator was a joy. That it was inconspicuously sold in the stationery aisle was a godsend. And hey, the colourful gel pens that came with it were cool too. It was the quintessential gateway sex toy, and boy did it do a good job. It was also completely un-sexual and un-intimidating in its presentation, you quite possible owned it for months before realising its true potential, and it was most likely gifted to you, quite cluelessly, by some kid your mom made you invite to your birthday party. If only they knew that years after the ink had wasted, it would still be one of your prized possessions.
I wasn't sure if it still exists out there in the world, so I just took a quick look and found it on Amazon. It gets a solid 4 out of 5 stars, though according to the reviews, its real benefits seem to have gone unnoticed -at least by the parents.
Well, here's to you, Squiggle Wiggle Writer. You really helped me to take my love of stationery to the next level.
One day I'll wed just so that when my husband comes home after a long day at the office, I can say "You work so hard, darling, let me draw you a nice hot bath!"
And then I'll give him this and laugh.
#doodles #dadpuns #hedhateme
Scrolling through my newsfeed today, I came across the headline After a Break-Up, Germans Now Have to Delete Nude Photos. As a feminist and a horndog, I'm a sucker for any article on sexual politics and n00dz, but having spent the past semester lecturing university students on the sharing of digital information and their rights to information privacy -or lack thereof -I was particularly curious.
To summarise the article (but really, just read the piece by Kristen V. Brown), a German federal court has recently ruled that consent to an explicit photo ends when that relationship does. Essentially, those who giveth crotch shots may taketh away. It's an important decision, and particularly in these times of 'revenge porn' -a catchy name for what could be more accurately described as the epidemic of sexual harassment, blackmail and blatant misogyny, whereupon #notallmen post private photos of their exes to the internet for all to see. Currently, in many countries including the US, the classification of this practice as criminal depends on various details of copyright law and whether or not you can actually make out a nipple.
But now in Germany, it would seem, an individual has a right to demand an ex delete any intimate photos taken or shared during courtship, regardless of whether the photograph holder has any intention to share them maliciously -and this is what is so unique about this case.
Putting aside the question of how such a potential law could be enforced ("Hey, did you delete those photos?" "Sure did." "And the copies that automatically upload to your Dropbox?" "Oh those.. umm, yes. " "Pinky swear?" "Uh-huh.") -where does this really leave us?
Those who welcome the ruling draw the comparison to sexual consent. Sexual consent can be withdrawn at any point before and during sex, and likewise, someone who is happy to share intimate images with a partner during a relationship should have the right to change their mind when that relationship is over. I mean, it kind of makes sense?
Except I'm not really sure it does.
Yes, sexual consent can be withdrawn at any point before and during sex, but it can't be withdrawn after. Post-break-up, we can't just take back the gifts we gave that person, or the beers we bought them or the truly excellent head we bestowed upon them... so why should we be able to take back a picture?
Buttholes. Nipples. Taints. Everybody's got 'em. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Okay, so we unfortunately don't live in a world where pictures of women's buttholes are casually greeted with shrug emojis, and instead we live in a world where our bodies, and our sexualities are policed, and too often used against us and to control us. But if we want that to change, if we want to live in a world where our vulvas are only as scandalous and threatening to our reputations as our elbows, maybe policy should lead the way.
The other question, and this is one that is made explicit by German lawyer Katya Weber, is how do we define an intimate photograph? For a lot of people, maybe it's determined by the level of nudity. But who gets to decide that a photograph of a breast is more intimate than a photograph of that person crying, or a photo of them holding their newborn baby?
Moreover, and this is what really worries me, is the comparison made to data protection laws. Who decides that a nude photograph is a more intimate piece of information than a conversation? Whether it's some hot and heavy discussion of sexual fantasies, sharing our darkest childhood traumas, deepest fears and wishes for the future or just general shit talking about a mutual friend, we tend to share a lot of private information with our romantic partners. What else can we choose to revoke when things turn sour? Should we have the right to order an ex to remove all trace of our communication, or is that crossing into Eternal Sunshine territory?
Maybe we also have a right to hold on to the mementos from past relationships. We need to be allowed to to remember, to treasure the little things -the love letters, the locks of hair, the screenshots from that Skype chat when you were long distance that Summer. Or am I the only one who'd like to look back nostalgically on a photo album of dick pics in thirty years time, like I'm in a Barry's Tea commercial?
"Did dad take this?" "No, that was... someone else."
