Thursday, July 21, 2005

Liberation!

A few months ago I was telling a couple of my girlfriends a particularly embarrassing story of mine. It's not chart topping, but it does come close (you will understand the pun hiding naughtily in that sentence in good time).

The story was loosely based around the following facts:

a) I own a vibrator. No, I am NOT ashamed of admitting that in the public sphere. I am a Woman who has Needs and Things Like That. I embrace my sexuality with open arms. I say "Hello, sexuality! We do not discriminate against you in these parts, oh no we DO NOT." So, yeah. I own a vibrator, and I write about it on the Internet. So Fucking Liberated.
b) I am quite an untidy person. And you know, when I say 'quite untidy' I mean so hellishly messy that my cleaner in halls of residence at uni wouldn't come and clean my room because she declared it "too filthy to clean". To which I replied "Screw you Maria you lazy bitch I was just trying to make things more interesting for you"*. So it is perfectly feasible that I would not put my vibrator away in it's box at the back of my wardrobe diligently, and there is a large chance that I would just leave it carelessly snuggled up in my bed. In my parents' house.
c) My Mum was toying with the idea of employing a new cleaner recently, so she had asked one to come round and, well, clean for a bit I guess. Including my room.

*I didn't really. I think I probably cried a little bit and then continued playing with the mini-civilizations that were inventing the wheel in a coffee cup on my desk.

I think you can guess what happened. Got back to my room, was blinded by the spotlessness of it. The pure, white, sparkly glory. I began spinning round with glee and touching surfaces, in a kind of grotesque hybrid of Julie Andrews in her two finest roles: Maria from The Sound Of Music and Mary Poppins.

"Hang on" I thought to myself, mid-spin.

"Where the hell's my...?"

Cue scrabbling around on immaculately made bed. Under pillows? Nope. Under duvet? Nope. Anywhere? NOPE.

I found it, eventually, wrapped in a silk nightie and tucked away neatly in my ostensibly-knicker-but-really-anything-I-can't-be-bothered-to-put-away-properly drawer. Which was a place that I DEFINITELY DID NOT leave it.

Oh God.

ANYWAY.

I was recounting this little tale to some of my girlfriends a few months ago, and we moved on to the subject of Vibrators, subheading: Possesion Thereof. And I was the only one who had active use of one. I mean, COME ON. We are Liberated. Unleash the Sex Toys! I continued in that vein for a while, until they tied me down and shoved a massive black dildo in my mouth to shut me up, and said OK! ALRIGHT! We'll have an Ann Summers Party!

So we did. And we played with stuff, dressed up in stuff and drank oh so much wine. There were rubs and gels and stuff that works really well if you stand on your head and make pincer movements with your legs. There were uniforms and basques and bras that showed nipples and knickers that showed, well, what knickers traditionally cover but Oh NoNot Anymore Because We Are Liberated Now (I declined to try those on). There were purple and pink and sliver and, oh, every colour of the rainbow was accounted for when it came to the vibrators. We held them to our noses and gripped them with our hands and generally had a LOT OF FUN.

And then, when we were suitably riled up (read: drunk), the nice Ann Summers lady murmured something along the lines of "So, ladies. Anyone want to place any orders..?" at which point we all threw our money at her with wild abandon.

Including me.

£65.

But LOOK! And also LOOK! (Giggles uncontrollably)

And they arrived yesterday and were left for me in The Crush's bedroom. And the people at Ann Summers had thrown in a load of other stuff as well. Some of it, well, I don't even know what some of it is. Last night I got it all out and The Crush and I did a lot of exclaiming and laughing about it, and then we went to sleep because we were SHATTERED because he had a gig last night and I have a gig tonight. So I, in my normal scatty way, just left the stuff around.

So the reason I have told you all this was so that I could share with you an AWESOME text message I received from The Crush this morning after I got to work (I don't think he'll mind if I do).

"I'm loving the sex toys just littered across my room. You rock my world. Hope you have a good day."

And then some other stuff that is irrelevant to the post. But it made me laugh a LOT. Hurray for Ann Summers! Hurray for the Sexual Liberation Of Women!

And, most importantly:

Hurray for Men Who Are Not Intimidated By Massive Purple Vibrators!

Hurray. (More giggling...)

9 Comments:

Blogger Doug said...

My ex (who, yes, I am still sleeping with. 10 years tends to make it so you are so used to each other and it comes as second nature) and we had bought some of these toys about 3 years ago. One called the Buzzy Bear which is of course a vibrator but the end looks like a little purple bear and the other is a pink bullet vibrator. Well, neither of us are much for cleaning things up and one day the two older kids came into the room (6 and just turned 4 at the time) and saw these things laying around on the nightstand. Well, next thing you know, the two of them are downstairs with them turning them on and laughing about it. Alexis (the one who just turned 7) say "I want one, mom." about the purple bear. The look of horror that came accross our faces was priceless. The toys were swiped away and hidden in the deepest recesses of the dresser. I'm just glad I didn't have to answer questions like "Why do you guys have a vibrator?" Anyway, enjoy the toys and be glad you don't have any little ones running around.

1:33 pm

 
Blogger Leah said...

I have one. And my husband and I jointly own a couple of, um, shall we say, adult videos. They've never been found -- or perhaps no one has ever admitted to finding them.

Your liberation is inspiring!

2:46 pm

 
Blogger JB said...

I think, maybe, that’s the vibrator of my dreams. I’m glad you posted a link, as I might have to order one myself. :)

Great post!

6:50 pm

 
Anonymous Jenny said...

Ooooh! I really want to visit those links, but am at work. Drat!

Great post! Great crush! ;)

6:56 pm

 
Blogger peashelle said...

Fantastic, all the way around! LOL

11:31 pm

 
Blogger Bug said...

Ditto Jenny on the being-at-work-so-NOT-checking-out-the-links!

I bought my friend a vibrator for her 21st birthday and myself one at the same time (purple and sparkly, so pretty) and that, as far as I know, makes us the ONLY people out of our friends to own sex toys

People are repressed!!

That party sounds groovable - much better than Tupperware! I wonder if anywhere here has them...

4:53 am

 
Anonymous MistressMary said...

Ok, here's something I never told anyone because I was just too undone by it. My mom found my vibrator in my room when I was 17 or 18. I don't know what the hell she was looking for, but that's what she found, and it served her right. She never said a word to me about it. We couldn't make eye contact for like a week. (This would have been in about 1976, so you can imagine that the liberation was not so liberated.)

5:56 pm

 
Blogger S.C. said...

One of my favorite true stories to tell from college is about the time I had to explain to a female friend of mine (I'm male) what the difference between a vibrator and a dildo is.

I think men who are put off by vibrators and the ilk are just insecure about their own sexuality.

6:39 pm

 
Anonymous number1hypocrite said...

Thanks for the insight into what you do with your alone time.

Being male, I can safely say that I'm not scared of vibrators. There isn't any reason to, anyways. Men can have fun by themselves, why can't women?

8:54 pm

 

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