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Big “feet”. Tee hee!

September 10, 2013

I like a woman with big boobs. And a tight vagina. I can’t do without them.

Did you spot the lies? There were three of them.

I don’t give a damn about size of breasts and I’m not going to say anything about slack vaginas, not yet anyway. More on that later. Aren’t you excited? Well, why wouldn’t you be? Everyone loves a good body comment. “Is bigger better?” People ask, and I roll my eyes in exasperation because it’s a very limited (and indeed, limiting) question.

Just between you and me, I always thought I preferred small breasts, but then I sort of fell for someone with a bit of a larger size. When I say “a bit” I mean “a lot”. And it turns out I do like bigger, too. The fact is, I like a lot of things without knowing what all those things are yet, and so do you. It’s always of passing irritation for me when I hear people bang on about their physical “type”. Listen, you don’t have a type. You know what a “type” is? A type is an assumption on your future preferences based on your past ones, many of which have bugger all to do with each other. You can no more make such a prediction than you can predict tomorrow’s weather based on yesterday’s. And you’re are a good bit more complicated than the weather.

So it’s not that I like big ol’ boobs in general – I don’t go for contextless boobs. I don’t go for strangers or porn stars or strippers or all that stuff, though I understand that many people do, and that’s fine as well. Personally, I like those particular big ol’ boobs because they are attached to somebody whose personality I like, and as a result, whose entire physical body I like including attributes I had previously never particularly rated.

It would be incorrect to suggest there is no such thing as instant attraction, or even that emotional attraction isn’t often secondary to physical. But it would also be incorrect to suggest that your attraction, or lack of it, is set in stone. Anyone who has ever dated a dear friend who they’ve had for many years beforehand can attest to this fact, as can anyone whose sexual orientation has flipped 180 midway through their life.

We’re not anything like as shallow or picky as we think we are. OK, so few people would actually call themselves either of these things, but in a way when you say “(s)he’s not my type” when referring to the way someone looks, that is kind of what you’re saying, and you’re underestimating yourself when you do. You aren’t willing to give yourself the chance to become attracted later, because you believe that you won’t, but there’s every chance that you will, because you are a beautifully complex and muddled little cupcake. Essentially, you’re sabotaging your own chances with someone who could potentially be The One. Or at least, one of the the several hundreds of thousands of people who you would probably be able to have a perfectly happy and fulfilling sexual encounter / long term relationship with.

What’s interesting to me is how much women have bought into this notion that physical attractiveness is everything. It’s just my experience, so shoot me if you think I’m wrong, but I’m sure I’ve seen more slightly-less-attractive men with considerably-more-attractive women than the other way around. Or maybe I’m just biased because I prefer women. My female friends have an alarming tendency to spot all the women I think are attractive and spout an impressive string of inventive slurs against her physical appearance – which just highlights quite how subjective the whole thing is, and how based in insecurity it could very well be. I think men are taught to be shallow, to think that women are a little bit (though not entirely) like trophies, and you don’t want one that’s going to show you up as having bad taste.

Even though I don’t think this socially enforced attitude extents to women, there still seems to have been an increase lately in the number of hetero women who are a bit too keen to talk about their physical preferences in relation to height, muscle mass and the ultimate: penis size. We are all a bit too quick to make an assumption about someone else’s willy size, or else to express preference in one direction or another. Usually more in one direction than the other, to be honest. The downwards direction.

It’s very masculine to be preoccupied with penis size, and not in a good way. Penis size is the ultimate in lazy judgements as to someone’s masculinity and sexual prowess, and is a good way for men to judge each other, because humans just love to judge each other. Female assessment is, I fear, less to do with actual preference and more to do with bandwagon jumping. If you’re going to jump on a bandwagon, be careful which one you aim for, because this particular one is riddled with pokey splinters.

In fairness, penis size has some kind of a meaning for hetero women; it’s reflects how good a time she’s going to have with him. Despite the best evidence denoting that it doesn’t indicate anything of the sort, we still hold onto that notion. Even in this enlightened age where we know people have sexual relationships that involve not one single penis, we think that bigger is better.

Hetero A: I know, I know! He’s talking about gay women! Ah, but gay women use dildos.

Hetero B: Gay women use dildos?! But, but… Dildos represent a penis. They’re practically straight!

Oh, go boil your heads, both of you.

We use penis size, not as an interesting observation of the physical phenomenon of how much our genitals vary from each other, but rather as some weird symbol. As shown with the silly depute over the dildo thing, the phallic symbol Means Something to us that is quite separate from physical pleasure or the actual reality of human anatomy. Even people who try hard to be body positive can’t resist but suggest that any male who annoys them does so because he is insecure about the size of his penis.

I find this annoying for the same reason that I find PMS-accusations annoying; it limits half the populations’ emotional experience down to one, barely meaningful surface element. There are a billion and one reasons why a man might be insecure. Penis size is one. Plus, there is no guarantee that bad behaviour is caused by insecurity, must less physical insecurity. It very well might be, but it is not for a friend, stranger or casual acquaintance to make that call.

My problem is that it places too much emphasis on size. My problem is that it places too much emphasis on size. In a society that polices every’s looks, I suppose you might say that specifically picking out penises is part of the “coddling culture” we excersize when talking about man parts. I’m told this exists, but I see less examples of it than I do the opposite.

Ask yourself; why it needs to be done in the first place? Because we do see the opposite, day in day out. The media makers have the cheek to pick all the most body negative women imaginable and shove them into the public eye, and say “This is what women think” which is as much misogynistic claptrap as it is misandrous objectification. Women are no longer allowed to be anything other than shallow, putting them closer and closer to the influence of the disease that has afflicted men for centuries, before consumerism and advertising exacerbated the whole thing to epic levels.

My theory is that men’s and women’s body issues are the same, as in they stem from the same place. You can’t win whether you’re male or female because advertisement doesn’t want you to win. Your shame and your wish to better yourself for other people’s satisfaction drives the whole industry. Women get it worse because they are considered the bigger consumers (some reward…) but let’s not act like it’s ever a bad thing to say that size doesn’t matter. It’s just that the message should be universalised, across all genders, and should be passed around on somewhere other than Tumblr for a change.

The fact is that more and more people, mostly women, are coming out now and saying that when it comes to sex, technique is more important than size, girth is more important than length and that more important than just plan old being “big” is complimenting the size of your partner. Because, you know, vaginas vary too. Which brings me to the promised vagina comment. Are you ready? Here goes: be aware that if you, as a woman, declare the need [ah, when hyperbole gets pathetic] for a big penis, that will lead me, a man, to assume that you have a slack and saggy vagina. Oh! Ouch. I’m sorry about that, but there it is.

And we don’t really want to get into that, do we? It’s not really a very pleasant exchange to have. You see, it’s not that you’re not allowed to have a preference. You are. Men are allowed to prefer big breasts, women are allowed to prefer big penises, though I would advise both groups to think carefully about these preferences and to what extent they are socially constructed as opposed to “natural”– after all, social factors change our bodies beyond what our evolution might lead us to think of as attractive symbols of fertility. My point is that these preferences should not be expressed, either at the person about whom it is meant or otherwise.

When last I checked, you couldn’t increase the size of someone’s penis or breasts by merely stating your preference. Frankly, it serves no use at all, other than to make uncomfortable all the people who do not fit your ultra-picky specification. We live in a world where people are very funny indeed about their own size, to the extent where they will try all sorts of fancy and not-particularly effective to effective-but-sort-of-extreme interventions. What we do when we express our conventional preferences is contribute to the insecurities that cause people to feel the need to undertake these interventions If you want an enlargement, go for it. Live the dream. But once again, I encourage you to think carefully about why you want it and how much of it is probably just a wish to be “better” than the person next to you.

I highlighted “conventional” preferences, because I think there’s a difference. If your preference is unconventional, then I think you should sing it. Live long all the people who like shrivelled little penises and uneven, sagging breasts! For at least it terms of expression, you are in a minority and it is what I like to call a “helpful minority” – a group of people who can help our currently limited ideas about the way the human world is or should be by showing us that this is not the way it always is or has to be.

Unfortunately, we are always embarrassed to express a preference that is unusual. That example earlier with my friends who judge my choice in women, this has been going on for too long and has to stop. Judging people’s physical preferences is almost as bad as judging people’s bodies themselves, because it stops us from feeling free to like what we like and encourages us to prescribe to body shaming when we don’t even believe the things we’re saying. Which in turn makes other people listening who don’t agree with you, and aren’t mind readers, think that there’s something wrong with their preference And so on and so forth, all because we feel like variety is a Bad Thing. “Variety is the yeast of life.” That’s how the expression goes, isn’t it?

The significant point is that when an idea of this kind is expressed too long by too many people is it becomes oppressive. Just like how women really hate to be cat called on the street or be subject to comments on their breasts from strangers at parties, men don’t like to hear a load of garbage about penis size. And I think I know where it comes from, when it comes from women; the new ideas of sexual liberation are based around the view that women should be able to do what they like sexually and say what they like about their sexual experience.

And I agree. I totally agree. But the unspoken counterpart of this is “provided it doesn’t hurt anybody”. It’s a mistake to think that blithely and publicly listing of a bunch of conventionally attractive male features that you happen to enjoy is not harmful – when was the last time you actually enjoyed listening to someone talk about how Big Breasts Are The Only Way?

It is even more of a mistake to think that it is ever funny to make a joke about someone’s lack of ability to meet your standards. Being less well-endowed is not a character flaw and not worthy of mockery. We hear it with jokes about the Wonder Bra and they are no different to the jokes about the Promised Gherkin That Turned Out To Be A Button Mushroom. If one hopes to get through this life with any shred of integrity, it can’t be one rule for one and another for t’other; it is a misguided train of thought that accepts that this kind of casual male body shaming is an expression of feminism.

Even if the person you are speaking of happens to be someone you find contemptible, when speaking in anger for humour’s sake, be sure only to mention the parts of them that you find contemptible. If you mention the things about them which are neutral and that they cannot help, you simply make other people who do not deserve it feel bad for something which is not worth feeling bad about. Another good reason to avoid these comments is that you’ll find that one body comment leads to the other; just like the earlier vagina slur, it usually just leads to an escalation of steadily more infantile insults – and you set off from a pretty poor starting point as it is.

The truth is, both male and female body shaming are big no-nos. And, believe it or not, expressions of patriarchy. They put an unreasonable emphasis on the importance of the male member which has absolutely no social significance, only a personal one that is entirely yours to keep. It is only our ridiculous ideas about the penis as the Implement of Power (fuck you very much, Freud) that keeps us harping on about them like they’re something special. They’re genital organs. They make the owner of them feel good when correctly handled. Does there really need to be anything more to it than that?

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