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Sex
Women are taking back the word "slut."
On June 18 at a TBA location, Philly activists are holding a "SlutWalk" to protest the recent words of a Toronto police officer, who allegedly said that women should not dress like "sluts" in order to "not be victimized."
Read below for the full release:
View galleryThe Naked City blog spotted this Girls Gone Wild bus at Second and Callowhill streets. A young man in a sweatshirt was sitting in the bus' passenger seat.
Is this what we think it is? Are they filming here in Philly for Girls With Low Self Esteem, er, Girls Gone Wild?
The Naked City tried calling the series' press number, to no avail. It was disconnected.
Critics say a new ad by the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board (PLCB), the part of state government that sells you wine and liquor, suggests that young women will be raped if they get drunk—and that it just might be their fault.
The high-end advertisement is shocking: it reads "Date Rape: See what could happen when your friends drink too much" over a woman's legs on the bathroom floor, underwear around her ankles.
“We have gotten lots of feedback, both positive and negative, on the campaign,” says PLCB spokesperson Stacey Witalec. “First and foremost our intention was never to offend anyone with the images but to bring about a greater conversation about the dangers of binge and problematic drinking. We did a lot of work with focus groups and a lot of research for this campaign, and heard from our target — individuals 21 through 29 — that these are scenarios they have faced and their friends have faced.”
PLCB has spent $600,000 on the campaign, produced by the Pittsburgh-based Neiman Group, which includes advertisements on the web and internet radio Pandora.
The ad links to the Control Tonight website, which includes a play by play of an evening gone wrong: “3:14am. Sexual Assault. That's what Anne's attorney will call it a month from now. She said no, but he kept going. And now, your friend is on his bathroom floor, bruised and victimized. See how you could have prevented this.”
Other pages tell the stories of a woman who gets alcohol poisoning and a guy who gets a DUI: “Arrested. Yup, that's your buddy Chris in the back of that cruiser. He'll be waking up tomorrow in a cell with a nasty hangover, and a brand new criminal record.”
As the feminist blog Jezebel put it, the ad “almost defies parody to make the case that if you drink too much, someone might rape your friend, and it will be your fault.”
“It's victim blaming,” says Siobhan Brooks, assistant professor of women's studies at Temple University. “It implies that it's ultimately the female's responsibility...instead of interrogating men and male culture around date rape.”
It is, she says, an extension of the “don't wear that” or "you're asking for it" argument: “if you do drink too much, the message normalized is that date rape will be a natural outcome. It reinforces the ideology that rape is natural for heterosexual men to do towards women.”
Witalec says “it was never intended to feel as if blame was placed anywhere but the perpetrator of the sexual assault. That specific ad is encouraging people to maintain control, and if you see one of your friends losing control, step in and help.”
They even, she said, did fieldwork. “We went into licensed establishments and engaged with the target group while they were engaging in consumption activities.”
Don't know what to do tonight? Don't worry, we've got you covered.
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If you're curious but a wee bit nervous about attending L'Etage's Erotic Literary Salon, consider this: Susana Mayer's 91-year-old mother will be there. And if she's got the, ahem, balls to do it, then you should too. Taking place for almost a year now, the event features discussions on how to sell and write erotica. And, of course, it's a space to read your favorite erotic pieces or your very own dirty works out loud. Tonight, Deborah Castellano will be on hand to chat about writing hot-under-the-collar works for a living. Think that "erotica" won't be racy enough for your pornographic mind? Mayer says otherwise. "Not everybody claims that erotica arouses them," she says. "But to me, unless you're writing and you're getting aroused, it's probably not erotic."
Every third Tue, 7:30-10:30pm, $8-$10, L'Etage, 6th & Bainbridge sts., 215-592-0656, creperie-beaumonde.com.
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| His name is Randi Warhol. Get it? |
In the same way that Christmas, birthdays and graduations are letdowns because they're wrapped up in so many expectations, Valentine's Day is sure to be a bummer if you deconstruct it. So don't. The weather's going to be nice, there's a bunch of cool stuff going on, and you probably got a box of chocolates from your mom — so what do you have to complain about, really? My suggestions for Long Live Monogamy Day:
1. Check out local artist Myles Smutney Hyde's one-day installation. Entitled "Heartless," it's the size of a room and features her usual juxtaposition of skulls, girliness and morbidity. The accompanying party speaks to the horny teenager in you: There's a kissing booth, a Spin the Bottle session and free PBR. Just like seventh grade, right? (Sat, Feb. 14, 10 p.m.-2 a.m., free, Vesuvio, 736 S. 8th St., 215-922-8380, momtried.com)
2. Use your hands with your date at The Hacktory, where you'll learn how to make a monogrammed heart or card that plays music. It'll be just like that scene in Ghost, except you'll be holding a glue gun, you're geekier, and your date is alive. Hopefully. (Fri., Feb. 13, 6:30-9:30 p.m., free, The Hacktory, 1524 Brandywine St., 215-564-6686, thehacktory.org)
3. See "Saturday Night Live with boobs in it," AKA Revival Burlesque's Andy Warhol-inspired show, "The Flesh Factory: A Night of Pop Art, Pasties and Perverts." I'm going just to see if a deadpanned Warhol will be wearing glorious, glittery tittie tassels. (Fri.-Sun., Feb. 13-15, 8 p.m., $15, Walking Fish Theatre, 2509 Frankford Ave., 215-427-9255, walkingfishtheatre.com)
4. Take assistant editor Molly Eichel's advice and watch snails go at it.
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Damnit, UO. Now I can't buy your cute frocks. |
| Courtesy urbanoutfitters.com |
In days past, Urban Outfitter's catalogs were somewhat classy. Yes, almost every picture was of a half-stoned girl in an extremely elegant dress emerging out of the woods. But they were usually covered up and naturally pretty, and the graphic artists decorated the page with ink drawings of bird, trees and flowers. It was wonderfully whimsical, really.
All of that went to hell in the spring 2009 catalog. Philly-based UO have ditched their respectable advertising strategy and replaced it with American Apparel's. Which it to say, they're making porn now. The new catalog is full of side-boobs, side-bums and maybe even a little side-vagina. Yes, you read the last bit right. UO is so committed to emulating American Apparel that they've one-upped their rivals and invented a new way of showing someone's privates without, 'ya know, showing them completely. Also, all of the models look 15 years old, and their despondent expressions make them appear stoned — on H, not on weed.
This sucks, because I have to boycott you now, UO. I stopped walking into American Apparel because I felt like a perv, and now you've went and done the same thing. Good riddance, side boobs.
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Another reason to hate Max: Doing this |
I understand why Tucker Max hit it big on the Internet. That's where hateful, base speech like his flourishes — read any forum discussion, and you'll see a million Tucker Maxes talking about how stupid women are and how cool butt sex is. In that way, Tucker Max is the Joe Sixpack of the Internet. He's commonplace. Almost normative and boring, even.
But now Max has left the Internet and entered your local, cozy bookstore. He'll be reading from his book, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, at Wynewood's Borders (80 E. Wynnewood Road) at 6 p.m. tonight. You shouldn't go. Or better yet, you should go and heckle him. Let's review why:
He filmed himself having sex with a woman without telling her:
This was going to be my first time foraging in the ass forest, and I wanted to have a reminder of my trip, a memento I could carry with me the rest of my life...so I decided to film us.
I planned this beforehand, but I was afraid she would decline, so instead of being mature and discussing this with Jaime, I just made the executive decision to get it on camera...without telling her.
That alone is pretty bad. But instead of just setting up a hidden camera...I got my friend to hide in my closet and film it.
He preys on people who are emotionally damaged. And gets off on it:
So let's see...beautiful girl, been judged on her beauty all her life, depressed about being rejected from her life goal, completely lost her focus...does anyone else see where this is going?
He's written about more despicable things, but I don't want to dirty up the Clog with too much Tucker Max. Basically, he's the worst human alive. And he knows it:
My name is Tucker Max, and I am an asshole.
I get excessively drunk at inappropriate times, disregard social norms, indulge every whim, ignore the consequences of my actions, mock idiots and posers, sleep with more women than is safe or reasonable, and just generally act like a raging dickhead.
Yep, he's an asshole's asshole. The kind that knows he's atrocious, and is proud of it. I hope that a rich helicopter Mom from Wynnewood overhears his reading in Borders and sues him for emotionally damaging her child. Or just vomits on him. I hear he's touchy about that.
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| I'm totally straight for FotC! |
If you appreciate honesty over flattery — for example, being told that you're pretty enough to be a waitress (but definitely not the prettiest girl in the world) — then you'll dig relationship advice from the leading men of Flight of the Conchords.
Will Bret and Jemaine tell you that your boyfriend's ugly and you should dump him for a New Zealander? Most likely. When you ask them if you should wear that cute new sweater on your first date, will they say "No, 'cause you just look OK in it, girl?" Yep. But isn't that the raw, honest truth you've been looking for?
Send in your burning questions to askaconchord@bust.com by Sun., Jan. 25, and read the answers in BUST Magazine's April/May issue. Just don't expect anything sugar-coated.
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