Sex

Love in the age of irony

Young men and women talk back to their elders about life, sex and the new rules of engagement.

Riding San Francisco’s L Taraval streetcar home from work one afternoon last year, sitting across from a rangy, athletic-looking young man with a goatee, I realized I was no longer young.

For several years I had been passing as, if not young, at least not old, not irrelevant, not a clueless asshole with neither respect for youth nor even a memory of what it’s like. I’d been getting by. I’d been a rock musician and a careless bohemian and I knew how to slouch and avert my eyes, move with insolent slowness and ape a kind of apathetic teenage coolness. Truth be told, I still felt like a teenager: wary in public, like a visitor without a hall pass, fearing rebuke, trying to stay low and blend in for my own safety.

It was the young man’s glance, or rather lack of glance, that shocked me. For I had developed over the years a subtle but habitual gesture of recognition of youth, a nod of the head that spoke of solidarity, that said, as the gap of age grew, that I still was on the side of youth and not with the adults. And I expected some recognition in return, some validation that I still held a marginal membership in that world of endless energy, quick-witted alertness and physical power.

It’s true that a certain caution had crept into my life. Because of the penury that my slacker ways had brought me, I had been disguising myself as an adult in order to make money. The disguise had been getting better and better. For a period, I wore ties and slacks and leather shoes. In an epic gesture of accommodation, I had cut my hair. But even though I no longer looked particularly young, I thought my pedigree of youthfulness shined through.

That afternoon, though, it was not the shock of being called “sir” for the first time. It was more like literally ceasing to exist. It was the shock of being passed over in that arrogant and effortless way youth in its delirious solipsism has of passing over whatever is not shiny enough, quick enough, lustrous enough to warrant attention. This was the first signal that, as one letter writer put it recently, youth of today avert their eyes from my generation as if we were derelicts on the street.

So, being curious about this passage into irrelevancy, and realizing that only those who truly have forgotten what it’s like to be young fail to realize that they are old, I inquired of readers of the “Since You Asked” column what it was like to be young today, and what my generation looked like to them. The responses were numerous and quite moving. The issues they raise seem well worth thinking about and acting upon. Youth cried out that we seem selfish to them, that they see us as a lucky and indulged generation, and that struck a chord and held out some hope. For if certain ills of our world do stem from the selfishness of a whole generation, then the generation that follows, seeing our faults, might correct them in its own march to power.

Therein lies a bridge between us, although one fraught with ironic self-recognition. That is, it’s still about us, isn’t it? Even as we inquire of youth, what we inquire is, “How do we look?” Indeed, some letter writers pointed that out, while many others raised the myriad challenges particular to this age that cannot be laid at the doorstep of the boomers: AIDS, for instance, and its attendant effect on sexual relationships; the Internet boom and crash in which young and old conspired equally; the explosion of information and options about marriage, childbearing and work that, even absent a ’60s-engineered dismantling of social institutions, would make formerly clear choices fraught with ambiguity.

So listening to the young needn’t be a narrow exercise in self-recrimination; only some of the letters address the endless cycle of generational conflict. What is more important is that youth define itself and that others listen. One letter writer, Suzanne Morse, a young academic who has studied how the media portrayed “Generation X,” pointed out that the media has too often talked about youth and too rarely to youth. “In other words,” she said, “it allowed the media to impose their perceptions of younger people on the younger generation without actually giving younger people a voice to define themselves.”

So here is a chance for the boomer generation, through the supple and democratic medium of the Internet, to hear the voices of those in their 20s, and perhaps to respond. They are angry words at times, baffled words, words of quiet despair and bitterness, but also words of resigned hope and proud perseverance.

One hopes some good may come of this, that some people, hearing these raw and honest words, will be inspired to work, to change, to keep listening. For it would be sad indeed if we, the generation of the “generation gap,” blithely changed places with our elders, learned no lessons from our war, and quietly became what we beheld.

– Cary Tennis

Dating

I’m 28. Hope that’s youthful enough for you.

Being in a relationship today is like walking into a hail of gunfire with no bulletproof vest. You take your life in your hands every day.

Condoms, condoms, condoms. Of course. Always.

You try to date guys your own age, but they really only want anonymous fuck bunnies. Fuck and run, fuck and run, fuck and run. I’m tired.

So you decide one day, “I’m only going to date rich older men. To hell with my neo-feminist ideals; bring on the sugar daddy! But every man over 40 who’s single with cash always says right before you have sex, “We need to talk.” Then he tells you he has herpes. (Thanks to the carefree ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, I guess.)

Plus the old guys always act like they are so much smarter than you. Well, genius, if you’re that fucking smart how come you didn’t know your wife was fucking the guy who built your patio? How’s that alimony treating you, asshole? Why can’t you keep it up? Why am I here?

If you let a guy pay your way, he will treat you like a prostitute and you will eventually feel like one.

So you date younger guys. Or at least you try. At least they want to have sex all the time. So that’s a bonus. Sort of. They have enthusiasm if anything, but it’s sort of like an all-you-can-eat buffet at Denny’s. It wasn’t great, but at least the portions were large.

You find a long-term guy. Or so he says. He’s 31 and Jewish and his parents would give you both their kidneys if they could just marry this sucker off. He’s the last of his friends to be single. He wants to be in love with you. He tries. Only you don’t know it’s all an act. You take the conversion classes. You pick out your new Hebrew name. You wonder if you’ll have a boy or a girl first. You never see the signs that he’s a classic narcissist — an obsessive-compulsive anal-retentive control freak. You never stop to ask yourself why, despite everyone’s best efforts, he’s single at 31 and has been for ages. You never ask that question until he disappears for two days and then calls the police on you when you show up at his apartment to find out what’s going on.

Right, sorry. I didn’t realize that you couldn’t fit me in among your alphabetized CDs and color-coded slacks. Sorry for disturbing the order of your sad, lonely life with my new sheets, pillows and gifts. I didn’t mean to mess your life up by adding love to it. Motherfucker.

You eventually decide to stop calling severe psychological disorders “charming personality quirks” and take out an Internet personal ad. You remind yourself that you were the prom queen for christ’s sake; surely someone will want to date you. People used to like you, right? You like your work. You’re a size 2-4 depending on the time of the month. You get asked out lots, just not by people who aren’t alcoholics or drug addicts. You’re really excited when your in box fills up. Then it tops 100 in less than five days and it’s too much. You realize half these yahoos didn’t read your profile. They just looked at the picture. You just delete everything.

Then you adopt a dog and stow the gross of condoms behind the waffle iron you never use. You just give up. It’s not worth it. You’ll never be able to afford a house anyway. You’ll never be able to afford kids. You’ll certainly never see a Social Security check. You just pray that you die in your sleep sooner rather than later.

Wait!!!! Is that the phone? Maybe it’s him! My guy, my dream, my hope, my salvation … Nah, it’s probably just someone I owe money to.

Ah, youth. Wasted on the young, my ass.

— Katy Medders

Love and irony

One uninvited guest of the last 30 years is irony. Life today, as we all know, is constantly self-aware. “The Daily Show” has replaced the evening news. David Foster Wallace has replaced Allen Ginsberg. Reality TV has replaced sitcoms. Advertisement has replaced everything. Irony is anathema to love; it is its opposite. Irony takes a large world and makes it very small, conceals it within a turned phrase; love freezes the world, expands a point into the universe. Lou Reed, who has spanned our generations, sings that love is “turning time around.”

I have not been in love. So maybe love is not any of those things. Most of my friends my age (22, 23) have not been in love, either, even the ones who have been in ultracommitted, I can’t live without you type relationships. It is something, but it’s not love. Perhaps we’re holding out for something that isn’t there. In the meantime we date, date and date some more. Properly protected, there’s no harm in getting laid while waiting for The One to sway her hips in our direction. Maybe modern birth control reinforces this; condoms turn sex into a “yes, but” affair. But with all that sex, can a true love make herself heard? It worked for your generation.

Life since last September has not only been ironic, but also stained with the possibility of radical human evil. Unlike the hippies who begat us, I don’t think we have the confidence that we will change the world forever for the good, or even that this is possible. We have to think local. Italo Calvino writes of one way of escaping despair: “Seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”

The simple sentence “I love you” is the most powerful one in our language. It does not discriminate based on wealth, race or intelligence. Love is an unconditionally good thing, but the promise of it is a weapon, accessible to all. When I fall in love it will be with the fervor of a born again finding his Lord Almighty. Car commercials, budget cuts, half-caff lattes and existential loneliness can go screw themselves. Instead of irony and fear is certainty: this small thing, this love — I know, we know.

Of course, there are so many things in relationships between indifference and self-obliterating love, and not everything that is self-obliterating is love. Love may strike like a flash flood or may swell slowly over the course of years, but it will exist as long as we believe in it.

Fighting for it.

– Alexander P. Nyren

Beatlemania vs. Batmania

I think one of the key experiences in my cultural development as a child was sitting in my parents’ living room in 1989 at the age of 9, reading a story in the society section of Newsweek about the merchandising campaign behind that summer’s “Batman” movie. The writer had dubbed the craze “Batmania,” and it seemed to my somewhat naive 9-year-old mind that there were larger forces at work — perhaps I was mistaking commerce for something more profound.

Anyway, I wondered aloud to my father if this so-called Batmania could be something important, something to remember. I had an idea that each generation has defining events, and was there a chance that this one was mine? My father flatly replied, “No. Nothing will ever be as big as Beatlemania.” And that settled it.

I still think about that comment, years later. I think it still colors a lot of my perceptions. Dad was very specific: What would be bigger than Beatlemania? Nothing. Absolutely nothing that came out of my generation, no defining event, could ever hope to achieve the lasting significance of Beatlemania. I don’t know if Dad was consciously trying to perpetuate a sort of cultural imperialism of his generation, or if he was mistaking a personal reaction for larger social significance, or if he really was right: American culture being what it was in the early 1960s and before, no single event could ever have as much of an impact. I still wonder.

That’s what it’s felt like to me. There has always been this shadow hanging over my generation. This applies to any area of culture, from lifestyle to sex to relationships. I know other baby boomers and fortysomethings who have told me about the great sexual revolution of the ’60s, the complete accessibility to any kind of carnal pleasure and the total eradication of any kind of traditional value system that would inhibit such pursuits. Sex as metaphor for social revolution, I suppose. Today that seems impossible to me — unthinkable, really. My relationships with women have been very small in comparison. I certainly wouldn’t claim to speak for every man and woman born between 1970 and 1985, but as a 22-year-old male, I don’t sense that there’s any sense of history or global purpose or importance: It’s simply two people getting together and doing their best in a world that’s much, much bigger than both of them. I think the majority of my generation regards love and particularly sex as a completely personal act, with little or no political or cultural impact — that’s certainly how I view it. Perhaps that has led to some problems, particularly in regards to HIV/AIDS.

Regardless, it’s like sitting around listening to, say, Sleater-Kinney or the White Stripes. I truly believe that the music being made by these groups is the most important music in the world. But there’s that little nagging voice in the back of my head, cocking its eyebrow and saying, “How on earth do you think the White Stripes could possibly stack up against the Beatles?” And I don’t know how to answer that voice.

– Andy Sturdevant

Activism and idealism

I certainly don’t think your generation is anything like what your parents were like, though you do seem to have a vast repository of a particular brand of nostalgia that I’ll call “activist/idealist.” Just this weekend I debated my dad’s claims that people are growing up to be so much more superficial, disengaged and passionless than they used to be. He sounded like a cranky old man at the age of 47, except that he wasn’t bemoaning a decline in morals in the traditional sense, but a lack of spirited engagement with the world. He maintains the Internet and TV saturate us with so much that younger generations learn to passively accept these virtual realities as their own experience.

I’m 27, raised by parents who caught the tail end of the hippie era and have always been crazier than I am. Maybe that’s because they had me when they were 20 and divorced shortly thereafter, but it seems to me that they’re still trying to get their lives together, still trying to figure out what they want and how to be happy.

My dad always told me to experiment with life, with relationships, to do what makes me happy. He bought me my first bong, read me Richard Bach and Tolkien, and made furniture with fairies and flowers on it. My mom took another route and became a divorce lawyer, remarried and moved us to Connecticut. And now, neither has retirement savings or health insurance, one had cancer and still smokes, while the other has a host of new-age illnesses that no one can fix. I think of my parents as representative of the baby boom era, with their combination of passion, self-delusion, freedom and irresponsibility.

I say, as it has always been, there are many things both worse and better now, and it all balances out in the end. I may have a shorter attention span thanks to so much surfing on the Net, but I’m passionate and engaged and I’ve learned from my parents’ example — and the threat of AIDS and nuclear attack — to be strategic. Key rules I’ve lived by:

1) Experiment safely: Date people of different races and classes, but make sure they don’t trample over you.

2) Change jobs, but only when you’ve got another lined up or at least savings to see you through.

3) Look ahead for the breaking point in a relationship so you can leave first.

4) Pay off debt and put some away in a 401K.

5) Avoid musicians and artists at all costs unless it’s solely a one-night stand.

6) Try to change the world because it’s really messed up, but do it within the system or else you’ll burn out.

I fell in love with someone who balances me and makes me happy, not someone that sets me afire because I know that kind of passion is part delusion and always temporary. I’ve tamed my freedom a bit for the joys of a genuine commitment, but unfortunately, it hasn’t appeased that hunger you talked about, that unfillable spiritual emptiness.

I used to wait for the magic wardrobe/cairn/mirror to appear, the one that would take me to my real life in another reality, the one that would finally give me the sense of abiding comfort that I’d been missing. But then I thought about all the time I was wasting just waiting, and tried to follow the advice of spiritual texts that say the key to happiness is learning to appreciate what you have. It hasn’t really worked, but what else can you do?

In the end, I’m more like my parents than I’d like to be, and I feel sometimes like the parent/child role has gotten switched. They don’t have the answers either, and they’ve made a lot of mistakes, but they sure have had a lot of fun along the way.

– Rachel DuBois

AIDS and divorce

I’m not so very young, but I can tell you what it was like to become sexually active after the dawn of AIDS. I was born in 1975, and everyone my age wears a condom every single time. It’s expected, and the men don’t complain. In fact, many sexually active women from my generation never even tried hormonal birth control. If we need to use a condom anyway, why bother? Besides, the pill is way out of most college students’ budget. Sex without a condom (using the pill or a diaphragm) is considered a luxury built into long-term relationships. A discussion about switching birth control methods is a declaration of trust, and a commitment to stay together for at least another season.

Among my peer group, there is a growing positive attitude toward marrying young. Marriage doesn’t seem to carry the same shackles that it used to. Children of divorce grew up watching their fathers cook, clean and do laundry, and their mothers fix the toilet, change the oil and cut the grass. The idea that husbands and wives have different roles is a foreign notion to many people my age. My husband and I view marriage as a piece of paper that makes it easier to deal with other pieces of paper — specifically the rectangular green ones with pictures of presidents on them. We’ve saved thousands of them on car insurance and health insurance since the wedding. When you hear about people who got married in their early 20s, they don’t necessarily have “traditional” values. They may simply want to share the love, the dental and the 401k.

– Heather Wiatrowski

We hate you guys

OK, you asked. To begin with I will let you know that these days I don’t even consider myself that “young” anymore, being in my early 30s and having bought a house last year. However, I am obviously younger than you, and since you asked what you members of the ’60s generation look like to us younger folk, I will give you the perceptions of this one Gen-Xer, which I know from conversations with my peers is not an unusual opinion.

We HATE you guys.

We have spent our whole lives growing up being told how “important” everything that happened in the 60s was. We have had the remnants of your hippie culture shoved down our throats since birth. We have heard how “No generation ever celebrated being young the way mine did” repeated like a mantra to deny the fact that almost all of you didn’t actually do anything in the ’60s besides take some drugs (if you have ever seen the movie “Rivers Edge,” the scene where Ione Skye and Keanu Reeves are in school listening to their teacher talk about “the ’60s” pretty much sums it up).

Meanwhile you wander around looking like fools, doing anything to avoid feeling old. So yes, the answer to the questions “Do we look like doddering fools? Do we look like people who have not accepted our age?” is yes and yes. I really do have respect for the people who made significant cultural and political innovations in the ’60s; I just know that most of them actually did it in the early ’60s, then everyone jumped on the bandwagon after the hard stuff was done.

OK, I don’t want to pile on here or seem excessively hostile. I think that even if things did “quiet down” a little in the ’80s as far as drugs and sex are concerned, kids have been drugging and screwing just as much if not more since the ’60s as they did then. The perception that things were “wilder” back in the ’60s has more to do with the fact that it was a new kind of thing then combined with the unwillingness of the boomers to admit that they are old.

Anyway, that’s just the opinion of one soon-to-be 33-year-old.

– Jotham Stavely

Political activism

I’m 19 and in college. Speaking at a demonstration these days will not get you laid. It might get you looked at funny.

Up until last year, I thought my generation was a repeat of the ’80s — career-driven, self-interested. When Seattle happened in late 1999 I was 16, and that was something I found inspiring. It showed me that there were other people out there who cared about the direction of the world. I was involved in local activism stuff in New York City in high school, around issues like police brutality and the drug laws, but for my generation the ’60s is like some distant memory or dream where people had lives that were interconnected with history. Kids who care about issues have a tough time surviving with MTV around telling everyone to drink up and party hard.

The sexual revolution pretty much just left us with no idea what to do. No one “dates” anymore — you “hang out” and “hook up.” You know someone’s your boyfriend or girlfriend after you’ve hung out and hooked up with them for a while. Courtship is abolished, I guess.

Most girls nowadays don’t want to consider themselves feminists. They think it makes them seem pushy or shrill, I think. I’m a feminist even though I’m a guy, but that’s because I know enough to know there’s no contradiction.

After 9/11 I think there was some sense that our generation might be entering history, that we might have something to do all together. Unfortunately, that was thought of in pretty militaristic and apocalyptic terms. And since there hasn’t been a horrifying terrorist attack since then, the end-of-the-world sense of last year has pretty much gone. Things are sort of back to normal.

To me it seems like your generation stopped its war in Vietnam but then stopped short before changing society. That was the promise you didn’t follow through on and now we’ve got to pick up the pieces, but I’m not sure we can with all this mental pollution everywhere. It’s gonna be tough.

– Sam Hayim Brody

Wimpy

I wish I could say that being young and swingin’ in today’s world was a fabulous good time, and it damn well should be considering all the possibilities out there, but all I could think about when reading your questions was how wimpy my generation is. Not just when it comes to the pursuit of true love, but it seems in the pursuit of any and every dream.

There are just too many choices. As a child raised by multiple baby boomers who’ve held on strong to their own youth culture, I’m jealous of the freedom they experienced in breaking through the ceilings and rewriting all the rules. While I’m grateful that they’ve given me so many options in how and why and where to live my life, I can’t help but be resentful that now I have to consider whether I would rather sleep with women or men, with or without the black leather accoutrements. And if I choose not to pick a personal fetish, am I boring? I could be and do just about anything, and that thought leaves me paralyzed with indecision.

And I am not alone in this dilemma. It seems like all my peers are having the same difficulty. Off trying to do their own thing, they don’t know whether to stick with what they started with or try something new. We’re a generation of those annoying people at parties who are always looking around to see if maybe there’s more fun happening over there.

Since now we don’t have to get married for money or to bolster familial connections, we’re free to hop relationships for the rest of our lives. We don’t have to stay with one career. You’re as likely to hear about a virgin-till-marriage 25-year-old as you are to read about a 23-year-old who put himself through college as a male prostitute. There is no more national youth consensus on what we want to be. Those with even a mild interest in self-analysis, therefore, find ourselves always thinking, always wondering, always trying to define ourselves and be different.

I know I’m making huge generalizations. I know that confusion about one’s future or one’s love interest is not limited to my generation or to people under the age of 35. But to be honest, getting laid has never been my problem. Sex and relationships are definitely out there to be had. The problem lies in how we approach love and the making of it once we’re in the middle of it. We spend too much time worrying about where this hand goes or whether that girl is the one. The legacy of our beloved partying parents is that they gave us the opportunity to try everything. The challenge is to figure out what to do with the smorgasbord of deliciousness we’ve been presented with, without the structure the previous generations took such joy in smashing.

– Alayne Freidel

Grateful

He asked if they looked like doddering old fools. Doddering old fools, she repeated incredulously in her head. Like the generation that preceded his?

No, they only looked like doddering old fools when they worried about what they looked like. She remembered her ’60s radical boss, an intellectual who chose to take on his father’s tool-sharpening business. He only seemed old to her when he was concerned about the effect of the advancing years on his hipness.

Otherwise, she was grateful to his generation. Grateful for the progress they pushed for, the culture they cultivated, and especially for those who did not succumb to greedy, self-righteous Republicanism as their idealism faded away. And in a more frivolous vein, she was grateful to them for having enjoyed their youth. They enjoyed it so much that they extended it.

She was grateful that because of this generation that refused to get old, she would not be as restricted by her age as women once were. She could have her cake and eat it, too. She could wear blue jeans and a sexy short haircut at age 55, and this would not even be considered eccentric. She could look forward to the oncoming years, rather than blow out a single birthday candle with dread and resignation.

And she felt that maybe, as they aged, this generation that previously warned against trusting anyone over 30 would change the unhealthy American obsession with youth. Or maybe they would keep chasing after it and searching for it in pretty little bottles. She hoped they would celebrate their young hearts.

– Amanda Vassigh

Cary Tennis

Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.

Join Cary's Online Writing Workshops

Massage therapists rubbed wrong by sex talk

A Jennifer Love Hewitt show and the Travolta allegations have masseuses tired of being confused for sex workers

(Credit: iStockphoto/sybanto)

Joe, a licensed massage therapist, knows what it’s like having a famous client who expects something extra. He had an Academy Award-winning actor begin gyrating on his massage table before raising his hips in the air to show off his erection. “He was hoping that I would play with him in some shape or form,” he says.

Needless to say, Joe isn’t surprised by allegations by two masseurs that John Travolta got handsy during massages. (Travolta’s attorney has denied all the allegations, and called them “ridiculous.”) “It happens all the time,” he says, and not just with celebrity clients. He frequently encounters men who try to fondle him, usually while he’s working on their glutes or lower back and their hand happens to be level with his crotch. “They think they’re so original, but they’re all so much the same,” Joe says, his voice rising. “They all use the same tactics, the same body movements, the same gyrations and grinding my table, the [heavy] breathing.”

Usually it’s men, but he’s had a couple of women do it, too: One grabbed his crotch and then pulled his sweat pants down before he could stop her. Then there’s the woman who had an orgasm just from him massaging her thighs. “All of a sudden her knees locked and her legs became straight and I thought, ‘Oh no, maybe I hurt her, maybe she has boundary issues.’” Afterward, though, she made it clear what had happened — and that it was the best massage she’d ever had.

Even massage therapists who haven’t personally experienced sexual harassment or abuse on the job are fed up with the need to constantly reaffirm the fact that they are licensed medical professionals. Shows like Lifetime’s “The Client List,” which stars Jennifer Love Hewitt as a single mom trying to make ends meet by providing happy endings, certainly don’t help to diminish the nudge-wink side of massage, nor does the ubiquity of euphemistically driven ads for massage parlors. And, for the record, many object to the use of the terms “masseuse” and “masseur” because they leave too much room for misinterpretation.

Even still, some question the legitimacy, or at least earnestness, of the allegations against Travolta and suggest that it’s the massage therapist’s responsibility to avoid sketchy situations. Barbara Joel, a massage therapist and former president of the New York State Society of Medical Massage Therapists, tells me, “I disagree how he is being portrayed as the brute and the therapists as the innocent victims … I doubt that the therapists were unaware as to what they were walking into.” Joel says experienced massage therapists understand that “many male politicians, celebrities and men of power feel a sense of self-righteousness and that they are above the law.”

To others, that sounds too much like blaming the victim. Turning down clients — particularly high-powered clients that could make your career — is challenging. Joe was voted the best masseur in New York several years in a row, but when the economy tanked his business did too, and he moved to Kentucky for the affordable rent. Now he finds it hard to reject new clients during the initial screening process because he sorely needs the gigs. “It’s difficult when you’re a therapist trying to make money in this economy,” he says. Usually, he simply tries to dodge the wandering hands. “I move my legs away from the table and after a while they’ll mellow out,” he says. “If it starts to get really bad, I’ll grab their hand and press it firmly down onto the table and say, ‘C’mon now, I’m a licensed massage therapist, this is not about sex.’”

Like Joe, Cameron Richards, a massage therapist in New York, describes encountering inappropriateness from both genders. He recently had a male client ask to be undraped during the massage. “This was all red flags,” says Richards, who’s only been in the business for four years. “To make a long story short, he wanted me to fondle him.” Once, he had a female client try to urgently book a session within the hour and then she attempted to get him to massage her breasts. “She told me when she went on a cruise they massaged everything, which I knew was a lie,” he says. Richards also knows a massage therapist in Florida who is thinking about quitting the industry because “she is getting lots of phone calls from men looking for happy endings.”

In over a decade of massage therapy, the worst Eva Pendleton has ever encountered is a client grabbing her butt. “I just quickly stepped out of the way,” she says. But Pendleton had plenty of clients get “a little frisky or flirty” when she worked in a health spa. Now she specializes in geriatrics and end-of-life care, but still she’s encountered a hospice client who asked flirtatious questions like, “Who massages you?” He was also “really into having his abdomen rubbed, hinting about wanting me to work lower.” (That’s an example of the hospice saying, “You die as you lived.”)

Massage therapists often become accustomed to the hint of an erection under the sheet. “It’s tricky because the male body sometimes sends a signal just as part of the relaxation response,” says Pendleton, “not because they’re having a sexual reaction, so I learned to ignore erections and I usually gave the client the benefit of the doubt,” she says. “It’s rarely as obvious as perhaps some of Mr. Travolta’s massage therapists experienced.”

On the whole, the female massage therapists I spoke with reported less frequent in-person sexual harassment, maybe because they are more motivated to screen aggressively. Whenever she gets a call from a potential client, Denise mentions that she offers both massage and martial arts classes — which is not easily confused as a sexy euphemism. Most people who are looking for sex hang up after that, but the ones who stay on the line usually send up red flags by asking for “adult” or “full body” massage, or asking what she looks like or what she wears during the treatment. Recently, she had a man call to ask if he could “confess his bad behavior.” She suggested that he seek “psychological or spiritual counseling” and he hung up.

Elise Constantine has been working as a licensed massage therapist for 14 years and only once had a client cross the line: He kept asking to be naked during a Thai massage, which is usually done on a clothed body. “I was infuriated,” she says, “but did not engage in any further discussion beyond saying, ‘There is the exit. No payment is expected. Do not contact me again.’” Since then she’s developed strict policies to avoid inappropriate clients and dangerous situations. She only books new male clients when one of her colleagues will be in her office suite and never does outcalls for men unless they come with a direct, reliable referral. Constantine also makes a point of dressing “modestly” and not posting photos of herself on her professional website.

The erotic plagues the industry for some of the same reasons that massage is a good cover for sex work: the intimacy of nakedness and the sensuality of healing touch. We have a hard enough time separating nudity from sex, let alone naked touch. So it’s no surprise that there’s a genre of porn that eroticizes the tension between the legitimacy of massage therapy and the naughtiness of a paid-for hand-job. “Some people don’t get touched very often, they don’t have a love life, and to them it’s like, ‘Oh my god, this feels so good,’” says Joe. “It’s synonymous with sex or foreplay to them.” Of course, there’s a crucial difference between the occasional boner on the massage table and trespassing on another person’s body. One represents a natural physiological response, the other a raging dick.

Continue Reading Close
Tracy Clark-Flory

Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter.

A night at the vibrator museum

Early vibrators were hand-cranked, two-person jobs -- and prescribed by doctors. How far we've come since then

(Credit: Antique Vibrator Museum)

I can now say that I’ve used a turn-of-the-century vibrator — on my hand, but still.

The silver, hand-cranked contraption is usually kept behind glass at Good Vibrations’ Antique Vibrator Museum in San Francisco — but staff sexologist Carol Queen made a rare exception. “This is very special,” she whispered, unlocking the case and carefully pulling out Dr. Johansen’s Auto Vibrator, a relic from 1904. The “auto” part is not so much: It was a two-person job, with her having to crank the device’s handle to get it thrumming. Pressing my finger tips to its inch-wide circular platform of pleasure, I was pleasantly surprised by its power.

As I was by the two other vintage vibrators that I got to try out — the White Cross Electric Vibrator from 1917, which has a pronged aperture that makes it seem like the ancestor of Jimmyjane’s Form 2, and the Beautysafe Vibrator from the 1940s, which is reminiscent in look, feel and sound to a car waxer.

The U.S. release this week of “Hysteria,” a Maggie Gyllenhaal flick about a Victorian-era doctor who invents an electric massager and uses it to bring about “paroxysms” of relief in female patients with “hysteria,” seemed like a good excuse to get a private tour of the museum, which provided vibes that appear in the film, to learn about the history that’s left out of the movie’s fictionalized story line — and, of course, to try out antique pleasure devices while on the clock.

While the movie is set in the 19th century, doctors’ “manual manipulation” as a treatment for female hysteria goes back as far as the second century. “That took too long,” said Queen. “So doctors started training midwives to do it.” In Rachel P. Maines’ “The Technology of Orgasm: ‘Hysteria,’ the Vibrator, and Women’s Sexual Satisfaction,” she quotes a 1653 medical book that advises:

When these symptoms indicate, we think it necessary to ask a midwife to assist, so that she can massage the genitalia with one finger inside, using oil of lilies, musk root, crocus, or [something] similar. And in this way the afflicted woman can be aroused to the paroxysm.

Of course, this paroxysm was orgasm, but it was rarely acknowledged as such. Instead, it was said to be the exorcism of hysteria, a vague, catch-all diagnosis for female ailments thought to arise from a displaced uterus or, charmingly, a “wandering womb.” “Some of these women probably had PTSD, some of them were overworked, some of them had extreme stress in their lives, some of them almost certainly had sexual issues going on,” Queen explains. As Maines points out, “many of its classic symptoms are those of chronic arousal: Anxiety, sleeplessness, irritability, nervousness, erotic fantasy, sensations of heaviness in the abdomen, lower pelvic edema, and vaginal lubrication.” Married women were often given the prescription of sex with their husbands.

Eventually, doctors turned to technology to speed up the laborious treatment. “It started with hydraulic devices, water jets, but that really only worked well at spas,” said Queen. In 1869, an American physician patented the Manipulator, a padded table with a steam-powered vibrating mound that rested between the legs. A decade later, British physician Joseph Mortimer Granville – who’s at the center of “Hysteria,” albeit heavily fictionalized — patented a battery-operated vibrator for treatment of muscle pain. Interestingly, he was vehemently against the device being used for hysteria. He wrote, “I have avoided, and shall continue to avoid the treatment of women by percussion, simply because I do not wish to be hoodwinked, and help to mislead others, by the vagaries of the hysterical state.”

Ads selling vibrators as home appliances began to appear in women’s magazines, often showing “women in attractive nightclothes, using it on their chest,” Queen said. “You see facial massage shown from time to time.” These spots referred to them as “aids that every woman appreciates” and promised “all the pleasures of youth … will throb within you.” But when vibrators started showing up in stag films in the 1920s, the ads started to disappear, Queen says.

“Within the next 10 years or so, the doctors close up shop,” she said, perhaps in part because it became impossible to deny the sexual nature of these therapies. “In 1952, hysteria is taken out of medical books,” Queen explained. “The medical associations voted to say, ‘Nothing to see here, there’s really not a disease – no, no, no, we haven’t been treating this with clitoral and vulva massage.’”

Vibrators were still sold direct to consumers, but manufacturers made no mention of hysteria and instead “talked about body massage and vague promises of health, vigor and beauty.” The ’60s did away with the subtlety and euphemisms: Maines explains in her book, “When the vibrator reemerged during the 1960s, it was no longer a medical instrument; it had been democratized to consumers to such an extent that by the ’70s it was openly marketed as a sex aid.”

Asked whether doctors or patients saw the treatment as sexual, Queen said, “One of the schools of thought is, ‘How could they not?’ They’re touching the genitals, she starts to sweat and flail around and vocalize and her breathing changes and she gets a flush.” But others argue that “the definition of sex and sexual functioning for a woman was so associated with intercourse,” it was so male-centric, that this treatment, which was most often external, wasn’t seen as sexual. As Maines puts it, “Since no penetration was involved, believers in the hypothesis that only penetration was sexually gratifying to women could argue that nothing sexual could be occurring when their patients experienced the hysterical paroxysm during treatment.”

Paradoxically, Queen explains that hysteria was overtly linked to sex “in that they said women without husbands who were spinsters or widows or whose husbands had become incapacitated were more likely to suffer from it,” she said. “So there was a subtext of, ‘What this lady needs is a good fuck and, sadly, she can’t have one — but this is the next best thing.’” Maines attributes the demand for the treatment to two sources: “The proscription on female masturbation as unchaste and possibly unhealthful, and the failure of androcentrically defined sexuality to produce orgasm regularly in most women.”

We haven’t exactly escaped the expectation that women should be able to climax from penetration alone, but we’re slowly improving on that front — and the mainstreaming of vibrators has played a big part. That point was only driven home as I left the museum, which is located in the back of a Good Vibrations store, and walked past scores of sleek and sexy toys in every color of the rainbow, all unabashedly advertised as what they are: Tools for sexual pleasure.

Continue Reading Close
Tracy Clark-Flory

Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter.

Maggie Gyllenhaal on sexual liberation

The beloved indie star tells Salon about her "vibrator movie" and why she loves playing transgressive women

Maggie Gyllenhaal (Credit: Reuters/Mark Blinch)

When I met Maggie Gyllenhaal about six weeks ago, she was enormously and gloriously pregnant, stretching out on a sofa with her shoes off and feet up in a Manhattan office building. (Since that time, Gyllenhaal and husband Peter Sarsgaard have welcomed their second daughter, Gloria Ray, to the world.) We were there to talk about “Hysteria,” the charming, lightweight feminist farce from director Tanya Wexler that explores a key event in the history of female sexuality: the invention of the vibrator by Mortimer Granville, a Victorian doctor who was seeking to cure the mysterious “female malady” that lends the movie its title.

While I wouldn’t assume there’s a vast amount of historical and social accuracy to “Hysteria,” it’s a lot of fun, and could definitely provide a viable moviegoing alternative for adult women eager to move on from “Iron Man” and “Captain America.” Gyllenhaal’s character, the crusading feminist and social worker Charlotte Dalrymple, who becomes the comic and romantic foil to Hugh Dancy’s stuffy, stammering Granville, might be described as a supporting character who takes over the movie. Charlotte effectively becomes the modern viewer’s window into the world of “Hysteria,” insisting as a matter of course that women indeed enjoy sexual pleasure (but are often plagued with partners who don’t know how to deliver it) and espousing then-outrageous views about women’s right to vote, go to college, work outside the home and so on.

Although still best known for her roles in independent films like the 2002 spanking-liberation manifesto “Secretary,” Spike Jonze’s “Adaptation” and the underappreciated “Sherrybaby” (not to mention her early role opposite real-life brother Jake Gyllenhaal in “Donnie Darko”), Gyllenhaal has also appeared in several major Hollywood productions, including “The Dark Knight,” “Crazy Heart” and the forthcoming “Won’t Back Down,” in which she stars with Viola Davis as parents trying to rescue a failing public school. Her prodigious on-screen charm is matched by a reputation as one of the most genuine and easygoing people in the movie business, and although I’d never met her before, this was one of the most relaxed interviews I’ve ever conducted.

We began our conversation, in fact, by talking about the Park Slope Food Coop, the legendary Brooklyn collective grocery store where we are both members. Unlike some celebrity members I could name, Gyllenhaal and Sarsgaard perform their assigned Coop work shifts personally. (She works in the basement, wearing a kerchief and packing nuts, teas, spices and cheeses, although like any other new mom she now has a one-year work exemption.) Is the Coop’s produce both better and cheaper than the pretty but nosebleed-expensive stuff for sale at Manhattan’s outdoor markets, we asked each other rhetorically? It is. Then we moved on to “Hysteria.”

So it seems like this must have been a fun character to play. You get to be the totally uninhibited character in a movie where everybody else has the 19th century hanging over them. You’re the liberated woman at a time when there almost weren’t any.

Right. Sometimes, a movie is set up where you’re meant to be winning, you know what I mean? I’ve certainly played a lot of characters who were really flawed and did horrible things, and where the challenge is to ask the audience if they can be compassionate enough to still have empathy for you. That’s really important to me, and I think that’s a really interesting thing to do with film — play a character who’s really flawed and ask the audience to practice being compassionate. Or who does things that are really outrageous that the audience might have judgments about, and make them question where their judgments come from.

This is completely different. This is like, you walk in and the movie doesn’t work if Charlotte isn’t winning. But the one thing I really did think — I mean, the script was so great, and so much of the tone of the movie was in place. I didn’t think it needed to be shifted almost at all. But one thing that I think comes from me is that I didn’t care at all about her being historically accurate. About her not having the 19th century over her, like you said. I think the movie is served better if she seems wild even now, if she seems so full of life that she could come from any time. Or any planet!

Because what she’s talking about in the movie — the actual politics — is very simple. The movie doesn’t have room for a complicated discussion of socialism. She says, “Socialism is a lot of people working together.” Well, you know, I mean — there’s a lot more to say about it! (Laughter.) Or, you know, women should have the right to vote, women should be able to go to college. We’re good with that here! So because her politics are so simple, and because the things that were so outrageous that she was saying do not sound outrageous now, she needs to be more outrageous in her spirit. So, yeah, it was fun to be able to just go, “You guys are constricted and constrained by all these things, and I just don’t feel them!”

I have to say the question of historical accuracy, or lack thereof, really never bothered me. It’s not that kind of movie.

Yeah. I think you’re on the wrong track if that’s what you’re worried about!

But one thing the writers really got right — or maybe this is your theatrical background and English-lit education at work — is that Charlotte feels like the heroine of a George Bernard Shaw play that Shaw never got around to writing.

Right! Right! She fits into a history of great wild women, you know? Even, like, ’40s women, screwball women, who you love even though they’re pissing you off. So, yeah, I agree with that. I liked that about it. I thought it would be fun!

You know, I probably can’t push this analysis of your career too far, but you do have a pattern of playing transgressive women, women who are defying social norms. Do you see it that way?

Well, I guess I think — and this might not be true either — but if you think about who might be interesting to watch, is it interesting to watch someone who’s absolutely following the norm and the pattern you’re used to watching? Sometimes people write those characters and they’re much more secondary characters meant to give you some exposition or whatever. Usually, the interesting character in a movie is either making a big change or transgressing somehow — making you think about how you live. So, yes, that is what appeals to me, but I also think it appeals to many people.

But no, I think maybe you’re right. When I think about Chekhov’s “Three Sisters,” for example — did you happen to see the production that we did last year?

No. I really, really wanted to. I love that play.

Well, so, of the three sisters, the transgressive one is Masha, and that’s who I played. But of course Olga is such an interesting character, and she’s not really transgressing at all. And in the movie I did after this, which is called “Won’t Back Down,” I’m also fighting against everything. It’s coming out in September, I think. I’m so pregnant! I’m all like, “It’s coming out sometime! I’ll talk to people about it!” Then there’s my character in “Crazy Heart” — she’s transgressive too, in a way. In her heart.

And of course everybody’s going to bring up “Secretary,” which, although it’s quite a different movie from “Hysteria,” is also about liberating female sexuality.

Well, yeah. That’s why people think about me that way. It’s always about what your first big movie is, that anybody knows about. And that movie is about transgression. I mean, that movie is overtly about what it means to transgress, and how it feels, and how you can live as a transgressor. But maybe it’s true: I am interested in people who are thinking — although the girl in “Crazy Heart” definitely isn’t thinking, or she wouldn’t do a lot of the things she does! I don’t know, you probably can’t tie them all together.

No, I wasn’t arguing that they all fit into that template. I’m always curious about the effect of having appeared in a really big movie. Do people see you on the street now and recognize you just because of “The Dark Knight”?

Some people do, yeah. It’s funny, because I’ve moved back and forth a lot. Even last year, I made “Hysteria” and then I made “Won’t Back Down,” which is a studio movie. There’s such a different feeling in terms of schedule, in terms of time, in terms of subject matter. I used to find it much easier to work on little movies: the pace and the way of working was just better for me. But I think I’m starting to change. I think I work the same way now on a smaller movie as I did on “Won’t Back Down.” It depends on the style of the movie. It’s harder when you’re in and out, like on “Dark Knight” or “World Trade Center.” I find that difficult. You’re not going to work and working for two months, going into the tunnel and just getting in your body who you are.

How has moving into your 30s changed your career? Don’t get me wrong, you’re still young! I was actually thinking it might have opened up some different possibilities.

Yeah, I actually feel like getting older has opened up a spectrum of roles to me. When I was younger, a lot of the roles that were coming to me were like, especially from a more Hollywood standpoint, the wacky girl. (Laughter.) Now I feel really drawn to playing grown-up women. I’m 34, and maybe it’s the way people age now or whatever, but I still feel like some roles I play are not grown-up women and some roles are. In “Won’t Back Down” she’s a child. In “Hysteria” she’s a woman, and in “Crazy Heart” she’s kind of half and half. You know, I have one foot in and one foot out. But thank God I’m done with, like, the wacky 25-year-old girl! That never worked that well for me. Plus, it’s so interesting to see a crop of really talented new actresses who are in a different generation.

Tell me who you especially like.

I love Rooney Mara. I was absolutely blown away by her performance in “Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.” Absolutely blown away. And to be honest, when you’re an actress, you go in and say, “All right — show me what you can do!” And every turn of that performance was excellent, and not just excellent in the way that some young actors are, where they’re just working on instinct and they have no craft. That was a crafted, excellent, beautiful performance. So to root for someone younger, that’s new for me. (Laughter.) You know, I’m sort of not in that young group anymore! I’m in another group now, but I like seeing talented young women come along. It’s exciting! What are they like? What I loved about Rooney Mara in that movie was that she wasn’t asking for anyone to love her. That’s hard to do!

“Hysteria” opens this week in New York and Los Angeles, with wider national release to follow.

Continue Reading Close

Mother-daughter sexperts

Susie Bright and her daughter, Aretha, make parental talks about sex look easy -- and fun

Most parents loathe talking to their kids about the birds and the bees, let alone pubic hair grooming, faked orgasms and “water sports” — but most parents are not legendary “sexpert” Susie Bright.

Better than talking about these things, she penned an advice column in 2009 with her daughter, Aretha, then 19, for the ladyblog Jezebel. Their answers to questions about everything from porn to Paxil were unflinching but playful, and at times controversial. Now the pair have collected those columns into a new e-book, “Mother/Daughter Sex Advice.” Together, they read as an irreverent version of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” for the Internet age. The mother-daughter team also reflect on what the experience of writing the column was like, and it turns out it wasn’t as weird as many would think: For the most part, it was just a continuation of conversations they had been having throughout Aretha’s life.

I spoke with them both by phone about sex-positive parenting, where they draw the “TMI” line with each other, and their tips for making “the sex talk” less awkward.

Aretha, this might be an annoying question, because I’m sure you’ve gotten it for most of your life, but: What’s it like having a “sexpert” for a mom?

Aretha: I’ve been getting this question since second grade. Kids brought it up in the line at the cafeteria. I remember being way more defensive about it then, because just saying the word “sex,” it was like a four-letter word.

But now? It’s the same answer I always give, which is that it was pretty cool. I was the envy of all of my friends throughout puberty and high school. It’s interesting because now that I’m college-aged, I can see differences in how kids were brought up and, you know, I can see how my upbringing has affected me.

Did you have friends in high school who desperately wanted to come over and ask your mom for advice?

Aretha: I started community college when I was 13, so I had college friends who were in their 20s and late teens, and they felt really comfortable talking to my mom. Sometimes I got really jealous because they’d want to have alone time with her to talk about their relationship problems. With my high school friends, they felt too shy and inhibited. It was more that they’d come to me with a crisis and then I’d bring it to my mom.

Were you ever uncomfortable talking to your mom about sex when you were younger?

Aretha: No. Never. From age zero to now, I don’t think it’s ever been uncomfortable.

Susie: There’s an important distinction between “Do you feel comfortable talking about your personal sex life with your parents?” and “Do you feel comfortable talking about other people’s sex lives and sex in general, sex in the news and ‘what if’ sex, where you say, ‘I have a friend …’” All of that we’re very comfortable with. I think anybody would be shy when you feel like you need a little distance between you and your parents.

Sometimes I talk to kids and they tell me, “I have the opposite problem. My parents confide to me as if I was their little friend.” For me, that isn’t a healthy, sex-positive parental frame any more than being uptight and refusing to let a single word be said about it. Somehow, it’s the opposite but the same thing. A good parent says, “You can talk to me about anything and it can be in general terms. If you’ve got a physical problem and you’re uncomfortable talking, can I help get you to a clinic or a doctor that you would feel comfortable talking to?” Don’t get all hurt that they don’t want to tell you, just help them find someone that they can talk to instead of getting all sulky about it and saying, “You have to tell me everything or else I won’t help you!”

Aretha: I think we’ve always been sensitive about talking about each other’s sex lives. Except for when it comes to things that happened earlier in her life. I remember being really curious about how my mom lost her virginity. I could hear that story a million times.

Susie: There’s so many different levels of what it’s like to have conversations about sex, and because so many families don’t discuss it at all, they think that once you open the door it’s somehow like there’s no privacy, there’s no boundaries, there’s no self-respecting way to talk about anything. But I knew that wasn’t the case, even from my own growing up. My mom told me about getting her period, which I thought was fascinating, because she told me about the nuns stuffing a rag down her pants and they wouldn’t tell her what was happening. Her moral was, “I’m telling you this because you’ll never have to go through that, because I’m going to tell you the scientific reason for menstruating.”

My dad was the same. He would say, “I was so shy, I never kissed anyone until I kissed your mom, and I was in college,” but there were other things he wouldn’t have expressed to me — and of course not. It just starts to feel creepy, and I guess not everyone’s creep line is in the same place.

It’s just knowing that you can hold your privacy and yet you can share things that are part of a valuable conversation. Part of what I liked so much about writing the Jezebel column, and writing this book, was that I could hear Aretha’s reactions to things and it made me realize how strongly she felt about certain topics. I wasn’t going to just say to her, “So, Aretha, what do you feel about oral sex personally?” No way, I would have been too embarrassed and she would have been like, “Are you out of your mind?” When I heard her sticking up for other girls getting satisfied in bed and not just lying there and crying afterward …

Aretha: Why would I want them to do that? That makes no sense!

Susie: Well, you say that, but I know plenty of women who would say, “What do you expect, you shouldn’t be so romantic or you should try harder.” There are some really negative, shaming answers. The fact that you were such a good advocate, it just made me so happy inside. It wasn’t like I had dragged you over to a desk every day and said, “Now, Aretha, how do you spell ‘orgasm’?”

Susie, what sort of parental anxieties did you have about sex?

Susie: Well, I still have them in the sense — this is more dating and relationships — when she meets someone new, I wonder if I’ll like her boyfriend. If I don’t think they did something right or they hurt her feelings, there’s part of me that wants to run over and slap them — even though I’m supposed to just listen and be cool because they’re probably going to make up in 10 minutes and then I’ll look ridiculous.

Aretha: From my side, I see my mom worrying, like, “I want Aretha to feel like she can ask for what she wants with anyone, because not everyone’s had the same upbringing she’s had, so they might not know that everything’s supposed to be egalitarian.”

Susie: Yeah, but you haven’t had any really terrible sweethearts. You’ve had pretty open-minded people in your life so far.

Aretha: Well, there might be ones that maybe you don’t know about …

Susie: OK, now it all comes out! [Laughs] When you first asked that question, Tracy, I wondered what you meant, if it was, “Were you worried that Aretha would get pregnant too young?”

Well, here’s another question: What do you think most parents are afraid of when it comes to sex and their kids — is it the fear of them getting pregnant, of them having sex too soon?

Susie: I think the fear of having sex too soon is this big, tender topic that covers a lot of things. On the surface, they would say, “An early pregnancy or some sort of STD could be tragic and wipe my kid’s life out.” But if you scratch at that a little bit, lots of times it’s because the parent identifies with the kids and is having memories about regrets, about things they did or didn’t do when they were teenagers. So their child’s coming of age is like their chance of doing it over again.

As much as it’s true that I could just jump in there and completely micromanage every detail for Aretha, it is so important not to do that, to be a good listener and let them know that you hear them, to respond if they want your help but to mostly just be really solid and say, “I’m there for you.” You have to take every lesson you ever learned from a good therapist and bring it to bear and give them the space to figure it out on their own — not to be neglectful but not to be a busybody either. It’s such a hard line to walk, I’m not trying to make it sound easy.

Why is it so hard for most parents and kids to talk about sex with each other? We make such a big deal about the Sex Talk, as though it’s one talk that happens, ever, between parents and their kids. Why is that?

Aretha: Where to even start?

Susie: There’s so many fingers you want to point. For me, it had a lot to do with being raised in a religion that was very condemning of sexuality outside of procreation and women’s subjugation.

That sure covers a lot territory. So how can you make talking about sex with your kids, or with your parents, less awkward?

Susie: I got some of my first lessons of how to handle this when I worked in a vibrator store and someone would say, “How do I raise this with my husband?” or “How do I raise this with my wife?” I got really good at answering this: First of all, if talking is the part that freaks you out, buy a book and leave it in the bathroom or on the coffee table.

Aretha: I think you have to be careful with that, though! So many people complain, “My parents left a book under my bed about our changing bodies and they never said word one, they just expected me to find the book and come to them with questions later.” And guess what, they never came to them with any questions because they figured, “My parents are too shy to talk to me about it so I shouldn’t talk to them.” Not to, like, totally slam your suggestion, mom.

Susie: But they did something! People are always asking me, “Are there any particular books I should have in my house for sex education?” and I say, “You know what? If you have books at all, that’s great.” Books! Newspapers! Talk about what you’re reading on the Web! Sex will inevitably come up if you’re talking about it like you’d talk about anything else — in politics, in science, in arts. It’s not a ghettoized topic.

Here’s another thing: I call it “the cool aunt theory.” You realize that you, the parent, are too upset and uptight about sex to say anything, but your sister or friend or ex or someone you know very well has a sense of humor and has a good head on their shoulders and you go to them and ask, “Could you do this?” Or here’s another thing, when your kid raises an uncomfortable question, to just say, “You know, that is a really good question and I’m not sure I know the answer.” You’ve given yourself some time, but you’ve been friendly about it and then you can decide if you bring in somebody in the family or you get a book or find a documentary on PBS. The point is you don’t just freeze like a deer in the headlights and go, “Ahh!”

You can use that for a million things. People act like this is the only difficult topic — try talking about death in the family or money issues. There are so many things where people feel tense and if you can find some calming, loving ways to handle touchy questions in one area, you can pretty much apply it to everything.

Aretha: And definitely you can never start too early. Kids are talking about sex in one way or another starting in kindergarten.

Generationally, how were your youthful sexual experiences different?

Aretha: My mom was in high school in the ’70s — you know, a lot of free love everywhere. Seriously, when I was in high school and I liked two boys at the same time, my mom would suggest that we have an open relationship, like it was the most normal thing in the world! And she was like, “Why are you so possessive of each other? You’re so young, you don’t know who you are yet, so just experiment! They can’t even say they’re straight yet.” I just remember feeling like, “She does not understand. It is so different now.”

There’s also way, way more virgins and people who are waiting to have any sexual experiences. In some ways, I think kids know more, but they also know less, practically speaking.

Susie: I knew I was being kind of snotty when I was saying, “Why not have an open relationship?” but I just had to make my little feminist point.

Aretha: Well, you said it a lot.

Susie: I have a lot of feminist points to make, I guess. You know, all these people that are trying to live out the romance bible are going to grow up and realize that life is more complicated, and why not be exposed to reality? People either are having open relationships or they’re cheating, and here are these people in ninth grade acting like they’ve got to take their vows and it’s just so silly!

I not only came of age in the ’70s, I was also in a major urban high school and I was in a feminist consciousness-raising group, I was involved in an underground commie anarchist newspaper. So it’s like, yes, I was in an extremely different scene, but the tenderness, the inexperience, the shyness and all the drama that happened every day, that was the same.

Did you notice any themes in the questions that you got for the column?

Aretha: Um, that they have horrible boyfriends and that they should dump them?

Susie: The funniest line was people would always say, “Our sex life is awesome, but …” and then they would tell me this problem that would negate it being “awesome.” This is from my crabby old feminist dyke warrior lady position, but I was constantly saying, “Why would you give a fuck what he thinks?” Or I’d think, “What you need is a nice, big lesbian experience.” I would think that the lesbian cure, if you were in a lesbian milieu, you wouldn’t be so second-guessing yourself and your femaleness all the time, but I realized that’s a generation gap too. I get some questions from young lesbians and some of them are just as fragile as any straight girl. I realized it’s more my feminist point of view rather than gay or straight.

What was your favorite question that you got for the column?

Aretha: This wasn’t my favorite question, it was what happened afterward: Someone sent us a picture of her hand and an engagement ring on it and I was like, “Yes! It worked out!” I liked the throw-up column, the girl who throws up every time her boyfriend comes in her mouth. I liked the boyfriend who asked how he could ask his girlfriend to shave her pubic hair, politely.

Susie: Aretha’s answer to that is, “There is no polite way!”

Aretha: I stand by that.

Susie: My favorite was we answered a question from a girl who was given a Paxil prescription after a five-minute intake and it had a terrible impact on her libido. We wrote her a super-sympathetic, supportive thing that basically said, “Go see someone who will pay attention to you.” We thought it was a great answer, but it got a lot of pushback from people who are using and approve of the SSRI’s in their life. The Paxil cheerleaders were enraged!

But the girl who wrote the question really, really liked our answer and felt encouraged. It felt good, it makes you feel great when you’re a total stranger and you’re able to make a positive difference in someone’s life or their health. That’s what I like about my job in general, and it was even more poignant to do it with Aretha. It was like suddenly having a million daughters instead of just one.

Continue Reading Close
Tracy Clark-Flory

Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter.

On the rack: A cultural history of breasts

Did breasts evolve for lactation or to enhance sex appeal? A new book explores why they matter

(Credit: iStockphoto/NadyaPhoto)

It’s hard to be boobs. Sure, breasts are cherished as givers of milk and the pinnacle of sex appeal, but the modern world hasn’t been good to mammaries.

As Florence Williams writes in “Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History,” they’re the most tumor-prone organ in the human body. They “soak up pollution like a pair of soft sponges,” and transmit environmental toxins to babies through breast milk. “Breasts are bellwethers for the changing health of people,” she says. While we’ve “genetically modified our crops to be able to protect them from the ill effects of pesticides,” Williams writes, “we haven’t yet figured out how to modify our breasts.” Aside from using saline and silicone, of course.

Speaking of, breast implants are more popular than ever: It’s the most common form of plastic surgery, above even nose jobs and liposuction. Even cosmetic enhancement notwithstanding, breasts are bigger than ever, and girls are getting them at increasingly younger ages. These recent dramatic changes are the heft of Williams’ book, although she also covers evolutionary basics, like why we have them, what they’re made of and how they work. It’s an interesting and engaging read peppered with factoids the kid from “Jerry Maguire” would no doubt appreciate (e.g., “the average breast weighs just over a pound”). Occasionally, it veers into technical territory that will put some readers to sleep, but overall it’s a much-needed look at why breasts matter more than we realize, even in our boob-obsessed society.

I spoke with Williams by phone about the myth of the perfect pair, growing bra sizes and toxic breast milk.

One of the trickiest questions posed by the book is the simple one of why breasts exist. After all of your research, where do you stand on that question?

It’s a pretty contentious debate and surprisingly so. I think both sides have some biases and also some logic behind them, but where I see it coming down is between natural selection — like, “Are these breasts for women and their babies?” — or sexual selection, as in, “Are they signals for men?” Ultimately, I really fall down on “Let’s look at how breasts work and what they’re made out of.”

So, for me, it made sense that these are naturally selected organs, which is true for mammary glands in every other mammal that we know of. There are no other mammals in which breasts are sexually selected. It just makes sense that in our deep evolutionary past we really needed those extra few percentages of fat, and breasts gave us a place to put that, and really helped gestate and lactate the human infant, which has these unique fat requirements. The mammary gland in the breast in humans is filled with estrogen receptors and those actually make fat. There’s this relationship between fat and estrogen, and where there’s estrogen, that’s going to tell cells to start storing fat, and as there’s more fat, that’s going to help make more estrogen.

So it’s possible that breasts are the result of natural selection but they also play their part in sexual selection?

Yeah, absolutely. There’s no doubt at all that a lot of men are really, really attracted to breasts! But it could be that that attraction came later or was secondary, and it’s never really been satisfactorily proven that all men in all cultures across all times are obsessed with breasts.

It so totally goes against common wisdom, but it’s common wisdom that hasn’t been proven?

It hasn’t been proven. In fact we have such strong cultural biases about breasts that it’s easy to see how some of these anthropologists may just be projecting their own beliefs back into evolutionary times, and that’s just a classic no-no. We don’t really have fossil evidence of when breasts evolved because you can’t dig up a fossil of an early human and know what her cup size was.

So, there’s no “perfect” breast in terms of male sexual preference?

Well, certainly Hollywood and plastic surgeons would like us to believe that there’s a universally preferred large breast, but the evidence just doesn’t really bear that out. There are a lot of men out there who like small- or medium-size breasts, and there are some men out there who don’t seem particularly interested in breasts. In fact, breasts are so varied in humans that if there really was this evolutionary or even sexually selected preference for large breasts, you’d think we’d see a lot more of them. Women with small breasts are just as capable of nursing infants and that’s why those traits persisted.

Speaking of plastic surgeons: You actually had one evaluate your own breasts for the book. What was that like?

It was really bizarre and funny. I always thought my breasts were sort of perfectly fine. I kind of went in there thinking, “Oh, he’s gonna tell me that, ‘Congratulations, your breasts are fine,’ because he’s this great judge of breasts and presumably he’s seen all these incredible deformities.” I walk in there and take off my robe and he squeezes me and squishes me and pulls out a measuring tape and gives his final pronouncement, “Well, let me just say you would be a perfect candidate for augmentation.” I had to just crack up. So much of that industry is about the soft sell — they’re just so good at making women think that they’re not good enough the way they are.

When did breast implant mania really begin?

The first silicon breast implant was performed in 1962, so 50 years ago. It was up and running pretty quickly after that. It was particularly popular among women who made their living onstage — the go-go dancers and the burlesque dancers and the topless dancers and then Hollywood. Eventually it leaked into the broader culture, and certainly by the ’70s and ’80s women were going for this. Then there was the implant scare of the ’90s, in which a lot of women had problems with their implants, and the FDA actually banned them for 14 years. But now they’re back; they’ve never really been proven to be linked to disease or cancer. In fact, more women are getting implants now than ever before — over 300,000 a year.

And breasts are getting bigger in general, not simply because of plastic surgery. What’s going on there?

The main factor there is, of course, the American diet. Women’s bodies are getting bigger and their breasts are getting bigger along with it. Men are getting bigger, too! In fact, men are getting breasts more often and male breast reduction surgery is becoming more and more popular.

There also may be other factors at play that have to do with hormones in food and birth control pills and in hormone replacement therapy, and of course we have all these estrogenic chemicals in our environment. All of those things appear to be interacting with our breasts on some level.

Somewhat related, why are girls experiencing puberty and getting breasts earlier and earlier?

I would say similar reasons. We don’t know for sure, but it appears that diet is the major factor there. Girls are sort of undergoing what’s sometimes called over-nutrition. A third of kids now are overweight or obese. You’re also seeing skinny girls getting breasts earlier, so the obesity theory does not seem to fully explain the phenomenon. There are researchers out there that have tried to examine the role of chemicals and pharmaceuticals, but the jury is still out.

Turning to the function of breasts for feeding infants, one of the purposes of breasts that’s not actually up for debate: How and why did lactation evolve?

Lactation evolved 200 million years ago, even before there were mammals as such. It evolved in the precursor to mammals, probably not as a food but as an anti-infection substance. It helped fight pathogens and helped the immune system, and many of those qualities have been conserved. Breast milk today is not just filled with nutritional substances but it’s filled with these immune system-boosting substances that scientists are just beginning to understand. There are proteins and enzymes and complex sugars that are really quite amazing at inhibiting parasites and killing E.coli on contact. It also seems to be filled with bacteria too, and so it may be inoculating the infant’s immune system or educating it as to which bacteria are good and which are bad.

It’s an amazing, complex, highly evolved substance. It’s the only food on the planet that’s really meant to be eaten by humans.

It seems that nearly everything breast-related is controversial and lactation is no exception. What’s your position on the breast-is-best debate?

Really, throughout human history there have been women who just didn’t want to breast-feed, and I totally get it. Breast-feeding can be really hard. One of the earliest professions was not prostitution but actually being a wet nurse.

Certainly in Western societies it’s really safe to be raised on formula. Where you see the more dramatic benefits from breast milk are with preemies; they do much, much better. When you go to developing countries where the water isn’t safe, formula isn’t a great option, and you can really use these extra immune-boosting benefits because of these pathogen rich environments. It makes sense from a public health standpoint to really advocate breast milk in developing countries. In our country, what would be great is to really support women who want to breast-feed through better workplace policies.

We see negative entities in breast milk as well. The weight of the book is devoted to ways that our breasts are, as you write, “the catchment for our environmental trespasses.” Why are we seeing toxins show up in breasts and breast milk, of all places?

A lot of these substances, if they exist in the breast they also exist in the blood and in a lot of cells in our body. But many of them are attracted to fat and our breasts are among the fattiest organs we have next to our brains. So breasts are these soft sponges and they soak up a lot of things in our environment. They’re incredibly good at converting these substances into breast milk. It’s a little creepy.

What about the transmission to nursing babies?

It appears that the benefits of breast milk still by far outweigh the risks, and even though we have these unnatural substances in our breast milk it still exists for the most part in small quantities. Nonetheless, we don’t really understand what the health effects of this are. It seems wise to look harder at these chemicals. If they’re not proven safe, maybe we should try to use something else. It would be great to provide greater incentives for manufacturers to put safer chemicals on the marketplace.

I’m so curious what you think of sexualized attempts at raising awareness about breast cancer — ads like the “Save the Boobs” PSA, which pictured a pair of bouncing bikini-clad breasts, and the explosion of “I (heart) boobies” bracelets.

I guess the sexualization of breasts is a reality and we’re not going to change that any time soon. I did like that those ads tried to reach a younger audience, so there you have it. Breasts are filled with contradictions and conflicting messages, but the more we can understand their complexity and appreciate that complexity, the healthier we’ll be down the road.

Continue Reading Close
Tracy Clark-Flory

Tracy Clark-Flory is a staff writer at Salon. Follow @tracyclarkflory on Twitter.

Page 1 of 403 in Sex