Viewport width =
April 6, 2014 | by  | in Opinion Shirt and Sweet |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Shirt & Sweet

First off, congratulations for having made it this deep into Salient. No really, congrats. It’s a long way. Uncharted territory and what have you. Being such a dark and scary place, I just wanted to kind of reassure you a bit. First off, I just wanted to say that if you don’t have a vagina, I’m really sorry and I want you to know that you are truly valued even if you, my favourite reader, can’t really participate in what I, my favourite columnist, am writing about this week. Which incidentally is periods. I am writing about periods. Graphically. So if that’s not your buzz, you should not stray into this zone. Here be proverbial dragons. Big, red, bloody dragons that come from vaginas and that society doesn’t really like talking about. On with the show.

A big part of being shirty is not giving a fuck about what other people think, and this can be very hard to do, especially when it comes to dealing with the kind of ridiculous fleshy mucus-house that passes for a body. I understand this. Believe me I do. The fluids, the noises, the stuff that grows, the endless possibilities for malfunction; bodies are goddamn hard to make cute. But dear friends, it is achievable, and we don’t even have to resort to vajazzling. (Not that I in anyway condemn vajazzling, and if you do have any photos of what you consider successful vajazzling, do feel free to email them to Cam and Duncan and you might win letter of the week! If you can use the word ‘vajazzling’ as many times as I have in a paragraph, it’s pretty much a guaranteed win.)

How to Be Unhygienic But Still the Cutest Thing Since They Put Holes in Plastic and Called Them Buttons

Imagine you are a beautiful creature. You are literally the best-looking thing in a 100 km radius. You know this. Everyone knows this. And yet the beautiful beautiful structure that is your body is allegedly letting you down. It is punishing you for not having fulfilled your evolutionary duty. For yet another month, you have failed to begin the process of putting another ridiculous fleshy mucus-house on this planet which can then produce more fleshy mucus-houses until the planet is eventually overrun. And for this shortcoming, gore is dripping from your bits (and by bits I mean Bits.) There’s also pain. Which you’re not even allowed to complain about because someone might not like knowing that you are in fact a reproductively capable being. Aside from the pain, which truthfully is not a thing for everyone, we need to talk about how un-cute it is to have to spend money on tampons. I mean that shit is not even subsidised. Your body is letting you down because it just won’t let you ignore this. It is forcing you to shower possibly more frequently than you would otherwise. It’s taking your money and making you censor yourself about your own pain and your own lived experience. It’s really shoving this in your face and messing up your vibe for five to seven days out of every month.

This is a truly important issue. Do you think cavewomen cared about whether or not other cavepeople thought they were gross? I think not. And cavewomen were cute for sure. I mean, I wasn’t there, but there’s something about the kind of complete abandon involved in not caring about anything past continuing your existence for a few more hours that just really floats my boat. And this is why it should be okay for you to do whatever the fuck you want with your own body. It should be okay for you to do that even if other people don’t like it because actually, it’s none of their business. It should be okay for you talk about it heaps and still have it not be any of their business. It should be okay to have a trail of blood dripping from your vagina.

Imagine your beautiful-creature-ness once again. But imagine that beauty enhanced by a trail of majestic red, marking your passage through the world in a tangible, visceral way. Imagine feeling a complete absence of shame about this. Imagine complete freedom. Imagine the money saved in your non-purchase of tampons. Imagine going about your daily life with nothing getting between you and your vibe, your valued contribution to society. Imagine how your beautiful-creature-ness has developed exponentially. I mean, it’s cute to be confident, right? Any glossy, purportedly ‘women’s’ magazine will tell you that. Imagine a glorious, gleeful, loud, Menstruation Celebration.

 

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. SWAT
  2. Ravished by the Living Embodiment of All Our University Woes
  3. New Zealand’s First Rainbow Crossing is Here (and Queer)
  4. Chloe Has a Yarn About Mental Health
  5. “Stick with Vic” Makes “Insulting” and “Upsetting” Comments
  6. Presidential Address
  7. Final Review
  8. Tears Fall, and Sea Levels Rise
  9. It’s Fall in my Heart
  10. Queer Coverage: Local, National, and International LGBTQIA+ News
Website-Cover-Photo7

Editor's Pick

This Ain’t a Scene it’s a Goddamned Arm Wrestle

: Interior – Industrial Soviet Beerhall – Night It was late November and cold as hell when I stumbled into the Zhiguli Beer Hall. I was in Moscow, about to take the trans-Mongolian rail line to Beijing, and after finding someone in my hostel who could speak English, had decided