Retail porn

Sex and shopping -- together, at last, on a blog called the Clothes That Got Me Laid.

Topics: Broadsheet, Love and Sex,

What were you wearing the last time you had sex? (OK, not while you were having sex — the specifics of your bondage gear or naughty nurse costume are not relevant to this conversation — but rather, what were you wearing beforehand.) There is an entire blog devoted to this question, and its name is the Clothes That Got Me Laid. If you’re a fan of  both sex (especially the casual variety) and shopping, this “third-wave feminist” site would seem to be right up your alley.

Here’s how the Clothes That Got Me Laid works: The morning after a sexual encounter (you know, when most people are going home to get some sleep or trudging off to work with a hangover), you e-mail the blog a detailed account of last night’s festivities, including what you wore. Some time after receiving your message, the site’s anonymous blogger will use your submission to concoct a tale of sex and style to post on the site. Plus, she’ll post photos of clothes readers can buy online that match your descriptions, thus enabling them to purchase an outfit that has already sealed the deal for one lucky lad or lady.

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Now, I know this is all in good, stupid fun, so I’m not going to get all bent out of shape about it. But I do find it annoying. There’s just something pathetic about the idea that sex appeal is something you can go out and purchase, whether the cash you’re shelling out is for breast implants or a $372 pair of riding boots. (Never mind that a recession seems like a particularly inappropriate moment to push the idea that consumerism leads to fulfillment.)

At the heart of what bugs me about the Clothes That Got Me Laid is the lip service it pays to third-wave feminism. Contrary to popular stereotype, the movement isn’t just about wearing makeup and sleeping around. It’s about individuality, freedom and personal agency. Could someone remind me again what those three things have to do with decking yourself out in other people’s outfits because you don’t have the confidence to snag a bed buddy all by your cute, smart, witty self?

Judy Berman is a writer and editor in Brooklyn. She is a regular contributor to Salon's Broadsheet.

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