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My question is, why does it matter? People have all sorts of investments in giving names (and meaning) to their sexual practices. I know I do. Part of 'vanilla', I'm sure, is about identity and the ways in which we inhabit communities: BDSMers need a boundary, especially the ones who think that BDSM sex is more 'special' than other sex.
But part of it is also about shame, or, to be more taxonomically correct, privacy. BDSM/fetish is available as a sexual practice to almost anyone, in the privacy of their own homes. You may occasionally see trashy documentaries that feature kinky adult babies and their (far younger) 'mummy'-cum-sex-worker, but it's provided as extreme spectacle, contingent on the fact that the home viewer doesn't do this stuff and is a cultural tourist.
When do you say that someone else is vanilla? Does anyone here actually describe themselves as vanilla? See, in my experience 'vanilla' operates as a label spread by gossip, or semi-public movements around reputation: 'Yeah, she's spunky, but she's hopelessly vanilla.' (Okay, so in some circles I move in, vanilla is an epithet. Sorry.) At the same time as vanilla acknowledges a particular person's way of having sex, it also works as a warning of an individual's active dislike for 'perverse' sex acts, or a certain shame which prevents her from declaring perversion in the semi-public languages of casual sex and dressing up and eyings across the floor of a night-club and, of course, gossip, that lubricates some of our sexed communities. I do, really, think that everyone is perverse. Not in a Freudian sense, either, belbin: m/f genital sex (or 'penis-vagina sex', as I like to call it) can be perverse too. But this doesn't enter the public sphere: 'vanilla' is a symptom of that.
Whiskey said: "The nails thing is shorthand for passion - excitement - can't control my fingers - the little bit of pain doesn't count as SM any more than nipping someone's earlobe, surely?"
For you, maybe. Not for me. |
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