Refocusing The Lens

As a native Chinese girl, I have observed that the most successful actresses in China and Korea all have one thing in common: their glowingly fair, glass-like skin. No matter which part of the world you are from—be it Asia, Africa, or South America—media, art, literature, and television all have an overwhelming preference for white beauty standards. As a result, Chinese women often carry umbrellas on a hot summer day just to avoid getting a tan, or wear foundations 5 or 6 shades lighter than their actual skin tones. These are only a few phenomena illustrating how a Western image has impacted Eastern culture.

I believe it is best to teach young women around the world to explore their cultural beauty, so they can be confident, powerful, and strong without the need to change who they are. I am repulsed by the fact that there are so many whitening creams sold in Asian countries such as India, Japan, China, and Indonesia. These products scar young women’s self-esteems. Personally, I wear a foundation that matches my skin tone and I always feel good about it. Other girls in other parts of the world change their appearance just to fit the social standard, a standard which depicts the ideal image as pale—what chance did they have?

I grew up in the United States, where there is not as much pressure to be pale as there is in some Asian countries. I am very lucky to have received this type of education that I do not need to become darker or paler; I can just be me. I have a medium-tan skin tone and I do not use skin whitening products. Ultimately, you have to feel comfortable with who you are to achieve confidence.

If we accustom our eyes to seeing different cultural beauty, then we could appreciate a variety of skin tones. This appreciation was hard for me because the town where I live is predominantly populated by white people, and I was one of the few Asians in my grade. A few years ago I attended a fashion show in my school’s diversity festival. I saw girls wearing their cultural clothing such as hijabs and Qi-Pao. It was an eye-opening experience, different from anything I had seen on TV. The girls I saw were so beautiful, and I really appreciated this experience that showed me different types of beauty from around the world.

As a beauty blogger myself, I have witnessed how the beauty industry has failed to satisfy its diverse audience. On Instagram, the cosmetics company Tarte unveiled a picture of their highly anticipated “Shape Tape” foundation, but the foundation swatches only contained four shades for tan and dark-skin women, and about ten different shades for light-skin women. On the other hand, Fenty Beauty by Rihanna aims to be all-inclusive with their “beauty for all” campaign. Fenty’s “Pro Filt’r” foundation contains forty shades that suit women with various skin tones. After the backlash, Tarte released a statement with a mission to include a larger variety of shade ranges for all skin tones. It shows that, collectively, we can make progressive change.

In addition, social media can be a powerful tool with which we can empower women to embrace their natural states. I learned that prior to June of this year, only two Asian women had been on the cover of Allure in 28 years and 327 issues. Maybe beauty campaigns and magazines have failed to feature Asian and African women, but that doesn’t mean we can’t post our own selfies on all sorts of platforms. We can refocus the lens of beauty by embracing ourselves, showing women of all ages that they do not need to change their appearances to satisfy what the media advertises or what society prefers.

My favorite poet, Rupi Kaur, said, “We all move forward when we recognize how resilient and striking the women around us are.”

Some days when I don’t wear makeup I feel self-conscious about the state of my skin. However, I need to keep in mind that what really matters is not physical appearance, but how much you give to others. Being pretty has many perks, but it should not be all we value in a person. What makes me feel good is helping others, being a loyal friend, and working hard for something I really want. We all have insecurities and are bound to not feel beautiful at times, but all the negative little things you say to yourself about your skin tone are their own form of self-harm. A gentle reminder that you are so much more than your skin: acne, stretch marks, skin tone. You are incredible and strong.

Meet The Team: Eileen Kelly

Killer And A Sweet Thang originated as Eileen Kelly’s high school Tumblr account. Growing up in a conservative Catholic community in Seattle with a single dad, she didn’t have many people to talk to about puberty or sexual health. Forced to figure out the answers to important questions on her own, she would often turn to her peers or the internet. But everything she found online seemed to be written from a solely clinical point of view.

Tired of watching herself and peers struggle with sexual situations, in the spring of 2016 she set out to create the platform she felt her community lacked. In only two years her little website has grown into a full-fledged movement, racking up over 3 million page views and counting!

Inspired by our writers’ vulnerability, we figured it was only fair we let you get to know a little more about the team behind KAAST. So we sat our very own founder and CEO down for a little chat!

Where are you from?

Eileen: I’m from Seattle, Washington.

And what influence did growing up there have on you today?

People in Seattle are a very unique breed… the outdoors are very important. I would say everyone [in Seattle] is pretty down to earth, which was nice to grow up around and be surrounded by that energy. But at the same time I think it’s a much slower pace, so I was always itching to get out of there.

How old were you when you moved to New York?

I moved to New York when I was 17.

What was that like?

Crazy! I moved right after I graduated high school. I lived alone, actually, and barely knew anyone. I think spending as much time as I did alone and in my head had a lot of influence on where [the idea for Killer And A Sweet Thang] stemmed from.

Can you talk a little bit about your family dynamic growing up?

I have three siblings, they’re all older—so I’m the baby of the family. My mom passed away when I was young, so I grew up with a single dad. [Since] my siblings were all out of the house by the time I entered high school, and my dad traveled a lot for work, so once again… a shit ton of alone time during [those] really young and formative years. At the time, maybe [that] bothered me a lot more and maybe I felt neglected in some ways, but as I’ve gotten older I really appreciate [growing up as I did], because I think it really shaped my personality and ability to start my own motor.

How do you think your experiences growing up have influenced your work today?

Oh, I mean I think it has everything to do with the work I do—especially the part of growing up without an adult female figure in my life. I really had no one close to me to talk about sexual things or puberty, so I felt extra alone in those topics. I think it just pushed me to be like, Okay, for other people who felt that immense kind of murkiness, why isn’t there a resource for them to figure out the answer to these questions that aren’t from a medical point of view? So [KAAST] is as if you’re talking to someone, like the older sister or mom you wished you had.

Dating apps or meeting people IRL?

Meeting people in real life.

Sub or dom?

I think it depends on the situation.

How do you sexually identify?

I guess I technically identify as bisexual. But I don’t really love the label. My sexuality is so firmly unique to me, as is everyone’s, that I feel like I’m succumbing to someone [else’s] view of it by having to label my own sexuality. For some people it can be incredibly empowering to label themselves, but personally, I don’t feel that way.

Sex on the first date—yes or no?

Personally, no.

What turns you on in a partner?

I like people who are outgoing, funny. I like people’s energy. I also like motivated people more than any physical quality.

What turns you off in a partner?

Not having confidence. I think it’s really sexy when someone’s confident in what they’re doing, and has the ability to ask you, “does this feel good?” But I also think that’s the Leo in me speaking! *laughs*

Have you ever ghosted someone?

I think I’m too nice to fully ghost someone.

Have you ever been ghosted?

Yes, I have.

How did that make you feel?

Shitty. But also at the same time, I feel like at the end of the day I’m like, this is your issue and not mine. If you don’t have the emotional maturity to just tell me, “This isn’t working.” Then, that’s not really my problem.

That’s a very well adjusted viewpoint. Good for you!

I mean at the time it definitely hurt, and you’re like I want to smash a window! But I think afterwards you’re like why am I wasting my time? There’s so many people out there to experience that I don’t need to mope on one person. It’s part of being human, it’s okay for not everyone to be attracted to you and vice versa. And that’s just something we need to accept.

How do you show someone you like them?

I’m very straightforward. Even how I met my current boyfriend, I approached him at the bar. I thought he was attractive, and I walked right up to him.

What did you say?

I think I waved at him? And kind of like waved [a] come-over-here-you-can-talk-to-me-I’m-down type of thing. And then we started making out.

Can you talk a little bit about some of the DMs you get?

I would say I get crazier DMs if I post a more sensual photograph. So, I feel like on some level I’m prepared for what I’m going to receive because I know what I just posted. The other day I got a dick pic… I hadn’t gotten one of those in a long time. That was a little startling. If I asked for it? Sure. But I didn’t.

Would you say men tend to DM you more than women?

Women probably DM me more. It’s going to be only men who DM me sexually—actually, that’s not true. Some girls have said they have girl crushes on me or they wanna hook up.

Who do the aggressive messages normally come from?

Men. Hands down. I would say [with the] women, they want advice on very specific situations—which is really awesome, but at the same time, it’s a lot of pressure. Because I don’t know you, and I don’t know the whole situation. Sometimes I just don’t really know how to answer [them]. I can’t tell you how to live your life.

Have you ever hooked up with someone who DMed you first?

I’ve DMed someone and hooked up with them, does that count? I said, “I heard you have a big dick, can I get a pic?”

And he was receptive?

He was receptive. We did end up hooking up. [But] I would say that was more of a situation where we had mutual friends. It wasn’t someone who was completely random. I was newly single and was playing around and sent it.

Do you send nudes?

Maybe in a long-term relationship? But not super explicit nudes. I’m kind of paranoid about my iCloud getting hacked one day.

That’s fair. Do you have phone sex ever?

I like sexting. Honestly I could go into a side career of writing literotica.

What’s the worst thing a former partner has ever said to you?

Oh my god, I probably blocked it out! [However] I found these old texts with an ex-boyfriend the other day, because I was cleaning out my computer. And he called me heartless bitch. But I guess that’s not even that bad.

I had one person, way after the fact, say that [he] never loved [me]. But I knew that wasn’t true.

What’s something really dope that a former partner said to you?

I always find it nice when they compliment what I do. For someone who’s been so active on the internet, I feel jaded in some sense if they tell me I’m attractive or certain things. I’m like, I hear this from a lot of strangers on the internet… so it doesn’t feel as special.

Do you find it harder to connect to people in this digital age?
Yes, because I think it’s one thing to be intimate over the internet, and it’s an entirely different phenomenon to be intimate in person.

Text or call?

Call. I’m actually a caller.

Have you ever been with someone who wasn’t that great in bed—if so, how did you handle the situation?

I wouldn’t say someone who’s been bad in bed, necessarily, but more so inexperienced. Something that’s really great about my job is I have a lot of practice communicating and talking about sex. So that’s something I have no problem doing in the bedroom, as well. No matter how comfortable or not comfortable I am with someone. *winks*

Do you think social media makes it harder to be monogamous and focus on one person?
Yes. It’s this idea that there’s so many more options out there. I think [social media has made] monogamy a lot more muddled, like [when] they’re liking or DMing other people on the internet… is that emotional cheating? Like what is cheating anymore? I feel we don’t have these distinct lines of what cheating really means, so we can’t have them about monogamy.

Have you ever felt empty after having sex?

When I was younger I used to really heavily connect love and sex, and I think that was [from] waiting to only have sex with my first boyfriend. And from that point on, for multiple partners, I only had sex with people I seriously dated. And that’s something I’ve been trying to outgrow. That put me in the position to revisit and have sex with exes—because I felt like that was more comfortable or more safe than going out and finding a new partner.

Which now, looking back at it, I don’t know if it was the best thing for me emotionally.

I would say that sometimes revisiting ex-boyfriends and having sex with them made me feel kind of empty. We’re here because we’re comfortable, and we’re here because we’re having sex… but it’s not the same as it was, and I don’t know if I [was] ready for that.

Have you ever been heartbroken?

Yeah. I’ve never been broken up with, though, I’ve always broken up with people. I would say a few of my breakups felt very devastating at the time. It was the situation where it was like, I’m leaving but at the same time I’m breaking my own heart.

And how did you get over that?

I think time.

Can you name a sexual fantasy you have?

I would love to have a threesome with a long-term partner. I’ve only ever had them where I was the random—or not even random, but I was the one who wasn’t in the relationship.

I hope your boyfriend reads this.

We’ve talked about it…

Do you have any advice for dating?

Just remembering there’s a lot of people out there. I think as young people we tend to get hung up on one person if they’re not into us, and just remember it’s okay that you’re not into everyone—so why aren’t others allowed the same? And just being safe and confident in your needs.

Has it ever been difficult to date with your public persona?

I get asked this on panels, and I always say I wouldn’t be attracted to someone who isn’t into what I do. But it has been an issue when I was younger… It is so funny, because there’s a specific type of guy I know [who] would be the type of guy who likes all my photos, comments, DMs me a dick pic, and would maybe wanna sleep with me but would never want to date with. Ya know, it’s the mother [versus] the whore type vibe?

I would say it has brought out some of people that I’ve dated insecurities, from watching other guys be into me or just people online, and that [can] make them feel some type of way… but I just try to set this overview and a reminder of like, Listen, I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t want to be with you.

My Boyfriend Likes Her Pictures

There is something to be said about trust in the digital age.

Trust is a small, glittering fish that slips through your grip if you are careless. I have watched my own little fish dart from me, no matter whose hand was held in mine. I have even fantasized about crushing my little fish with a rock—an expulsion of scales and guts and the last of my ability to be truly vulnerable.

Relationships are tricky. Especially in a current climate where social media rubs its dark hands over our heads. Images are piled in front of us every day, bright and terrible in their consistency. Instagram is like a bazaar in some fantastical kingdom: here there be girls, a menagerie of babes with skin as lustrous as candy shells! If you type “my boyfriend follows models on Instagram” into Google, you’ll find pages and pages of results. It would appear the girls are worrying about the girls. Love has a razor-sharp smart phone at its throat.

I doggedly check my boyfriend’s Instagram. I heave myself through his followers, through who he is following. It’s an exhausting exercise in compulsion and fear. There are hundreds of babes. Beautiful blondes with savage teeth, their backs arched like greyhounds. He likes the photos of the babes. He paints the Insta hearts red. He used to leave stray comments, bits of acknowledgement like flower petals over a body. There was a hot babe in glasses, so he left the smiley face with glasses emoji. A babe in a hat was smiling holding a bee, and he commented “that hat!”

He doesn’t know these babes. They don’t follow him back. I would screenshot these moments and send them to girlfriends, is this ok? No, they would wail, this is despicable! I scrolled some more. Eventually my little trust fish nosed itself out of my hands and slimed through my fingers. I lost it. I imagined his direct messages, the invented strings of communication he must be having with these women—is that normal now? Have our expectations become so thin and starved that they huddle together instead of rallying against social media’s onslaught of instant gratification?

There is a hell of a lot of choice nowadays, or at least it sure looks like it. Twenty years ago we had to be visually satisfied with whatever we saw in the flesh, or whatever looked good on cable. Today, we carry the Kingdom of Lost Babes around in our hands. I wonder sometimes, if it’s good for the brain, all these curves, these bottom cheeks bruised against the camera lens—so that you aren’t sure if you’re indeed looking at an ass or a squashed ball of mozzarella. Is the accessibility to the Insta babes too tantalizing to ignore? With one tap you are instantly connected; it’s as delicious as sorcery.

I asked him, why do you follow the babes?

Wouldn’t you prefer I fantasize over an attractive girl on Instagram instead of porn?

No. Social media has become a safe tower for the voyeur.

I would rather he salivate over deliberate babes, the girls with the rabid loins, the ones who purposefully swallow cocks and splay their bodies to the eye of the camera. The girls with brave brown limbs, ridden as prize racehorses, skin shiny with fluids. They are there to be seen and to be enjoyed. The Insta babes have no courage in their crotches, they just want little red hearts and the most they will give in return is a sly peak of areola.

He protests as if it’s something he has to do, something undeniable that comes from being male, something that I just have to learn to accept or to turn my attention from. But it’s feels like watching your boyfriend blow a kiss to a girl on the street. It’s something that makes your guts burn.

Inevitably, I compare myself to the babes. I stand in the bathroom in my underwear, my skin silver and uncorrupted from any filters. I wonder if he too compares me to the babes. If when his zombie eyes pass over their haunches, he remembers the everyday weight of my own limbs. I pinch the screen and zoom in on their pretty faces. I have a lot of friends. I love girls. I think, you would like me more than him, we could be friends! But he has hunted you, trapped you in his phone and now you are his idea to drool over.

At wild, terrible moments, I fantasize about messaging a babe and asking her if she and he communicate, of liking one of her photos, of showing him that I too can play the game.

I went for a beer with a friend of mine the other night. He blithely tossed me his phone and asked me to look something up. I held it in my hands, horrified, as if it were a disembowelled animal.

You’re giving me your phone?

He laughed at my incredulity. He pulled at his mustache and wiped the beer scum from his chin.

You’re better at writing than me anyway, reply to that message would you?

He doesn’t have Instagram or Snapchat. He says he doesn’t have time. I thought of my boyfriend, who holds his phone close as if it were his last secret left. He has told me he would never show me its contents as that is breaking a boundary. My brain heard there are truths in there that would break your heart. My little fish was a sliver of tarnished gold.

Am I insecure? Do I have trust issues? In reality, I am happy with my body, my face, my mind. I am not threatened by connectivity, and I love meeting new people, especially babes; they have great clothes you can borrow. Another male friend assured me that not all men do this, some men tie themselves to the mast and avoid the sirens’ howling. Some men do not succumb to base temptation. A girlfriend declared following pretty girls that you don’t know when you’re in a relationship is tacky, like having a Porn mag from 1980 under your bed.

If anything, watching your boyfriend rack up the number of babes on his Instagram followers list has been a lesson in self-control. I peruse a new babe, scroll through her photos to check which ones he’s liked. I follow his actions, I nose after him, blood on my lips—the little fish is torn to pieces at my feet.

I wonder if it will ever stop, if this is a compulsion he will enjoy for the rest of his life. And the babes will remain timeless, trapped in plastic like insects in amber, flawless wings and thin as whispers. I will age, and hopefully be past the want or need to validate myself online. It’s already becoming dull. It’s already beginning to hurt.

DoubleTap: Eromatica

DoubleTap is a monthly interview series highlighting artists whose work explores sex, body, and identity.

You have probably seen some of Eromatica’s erotic illustrations on your feed — but never the same way.

The multi-medium artist is taking inclusivity to new heights by offering feature-flexible graphics of people in love and lust. With the apps Colormatica and Teematica, the viewer gets to play artist and alternate each subject’s gender identity, hair color/style, and skin tone. Not only does this ensure diversity, but it grants viewers the autonomy to reflect themselves in the artwork. Once you’ve curated a love scene that satisfies you, Eromatica gives you the option to print the graphics on pins, t-shirts, postcards, and more. Additionally, the artist/brand has launched a set of original Bluetooth vibrators with remote control settings, allowing a partner to operate the intensity of your session from any where in the world. Talk about upgrading your phone sex.

While Eromatica’s sexy illustrations can sometime feature alien or mystical individuals making love, their appeal is based not in fantasy, but in embracing the reality of love’s diversity.

We had the opportunity to chat with the coder, illustrator, and visionary.

What inspired you to create interactive illustrations which allow the viewer to change the subject’s skin tone, hair, etc.?

E: I believe art is only art when the viewer feels something for what they’re seeing. At first my illustrations were colorless, but I started [to] learn that these drawings would be more pleasant for the viewer if they’d resemble, in any way, the viewer. Art has to be done so the viewer feels connected to it, and this is the way I found to connect to them.

If a chef would cook only food that he likes, he probably wouldn’t have that many clients. But if he cooks personalized dishes, he’d probably have way more clients.

Your work often depicts people in intimate situations—are these fantasies or do you draw from your own experiences?

E: I combine fantasy with [my] own experiences. But mostly they are all fantasy and random scenarios made up for the drawing.

Have you ever felt pressure to censor your artwork?

E: More like, have I not felt pressure to censor my work? Instagram is an open platform, therefore anyone can access any account, no matter how old the person is. My main account had more explicit images, but Instagram kept censoring them and ended up disabling my account.

Since then, I opened a second account and started all over with a less explicit theme. Censoring body parts with clothes, hairs and hands. It’s hard to keep it “clean” when it’s such a subjective topic. I would think nipples and butts are okay to show, but Instagram thinks the other way around.

So, as long as I keep using Instagram as a platform to get to know my art, I’m keeping it within the rules of Instagram. Would be way better if I didn’t have this constrain, but Instagram is a really cool platform to work with so let’s keep it cool for them.

How has your work evolved over time?

E: It all started in March 7th, and it began with only simple lines and incomplete drawings. It was something new for me so I couldn’t go that complex. With time I started learning new techniques, getting better and getting lots of insight from my followers. And voilà, Eromatica started evolving and is still evolving. At the moment, all my posts have 10 variations of the illustration, some are turned into wallpaper format, some are uploaded to my Coloring Book app, and some are used for prints.

The biggest evolution of Eromatica has been the personalization of the illustrations, letting my followers customize the drawing so it looks more like them. I can tell right now Eromatica is starting a new phase of evolution, but cannot talk that much about it. Still a secret.

Most of your illustrations depict sexy and tender scenarios. Would you ever consider exploring the darker side of human sexuality in your work?

E: If by darker side of human sexuality you mean evil dark side… no, I don’t plan to go on that area. My account is about [a] couple’s love, sexual situations, healthy lust, self-love and inclusivity. One of my goals is to erase the gender gap and empower women in any possible way, and going to the “dark side” of human sexuality kinda goes against this. I’m here to empower and reach sex equality.

Your brand’s vibrator can be controlled through an iPhone at any distance (which, by the way, we think is a game changer for people in long-distance relationships). What gave you the idea to marry the virtual and physical realms for pleasure?

E: I’m actually a coder, not an illustrator, so my entire life has been dedicated to making software and hardware. I built my first websites and video games when I was 11 years old. I found a perfect mix of my techie-knowledge with my art project, and built this long-distance controlled vibrator.

It’s one of the multiple side projects that are starting to bloom from Eromatica. Still working on some more, and some are already out there on the site, like the Coloring Book app and the site to build your own T-Shirts with your own colors. I believe I can reach Eromatica’s goal easier if I take advantage of my techie skills, so here I am trying it.

In your wildest dreams, what does the future hold for Eromatica?

E: My very first goal is to make women feel powerful and confident enough to achieve anything in any aspect, either sexually speaking, or life-wise, job-wide, career-wise, etc. I’m sick and tired of having a world ruled mostly by men, we need powerful women doing powerful stuff. There is a lot of work to be done, and I hope I’m on the right path to do it.

What’s the future for Eromatica? Any future that leads to achieve my goals. What I’m doing right now [is] working on multiple apps for women, new illustrations, a blog/forum for women, networking with women in the industries, looking for collaborations, [developing] a clothing line, and doing research.

You can follow Eromatica on Instagram here, and buy their products at www.eromatica.com.

How Sex Changed My Body Image

I hadn’t known to take my body seriously.

To a degree, I saw my body as a foreign object for as long as I can remember. I knew that I needed it to carry me places, to relieve my hunger when I fed it, and to memorize information that I needed to know for school. I was taught to keep my body clean, and to protect it from being taken advantage of. In my sheltered mind, what I knew of my body and what I was taught to do with it was all that existed.

As I got older, my body started its natural changes. It began to curve and jiggle in ways I hadn’t observed before. I was told about training bras that I didn’t want to wear. I was asked why my legs were so hairy before I even knew that it was the norm for girls to shave them. I was congratulated for being fertile when my period first reared its god-awful head when all I could do was feel like vomiting from the pain.

One night, I carried all these observations with me to the mirror and looked at myself completely nude. I cringed at what I saw. I was shaped like a defective rectangle; had nothing too ladylike about the outline of my body. My boobs looked, to me, like down-sloping bananas from the side, instead of the full, perky ones I’d seen in movies. My ass was supposedly where it should’ve been, but not fully visible, and it held stretch marks in place of the invisible growth. My stomach ebbed and flowed, instead of remaining completely flat like I figured it should have. I wouldn’t even look at my “down there” area. I didn’t entirely know what to identify my body as, though, from what I’d seen in all forms of media at the time, it didn’t look the way it was supposed to. From that point on, things were different… I saw my body as something that was happening to me. I knew that it needed more attention, but I wanted to be as separate from it as I could. I felt ashamed of it.

I knew about sex, of course. Like most kids, I was definitely curious about it. The way directors made sex look in movies and TV shows was enticing, and I knew that rubbing something “down there” felt good. However, I was the golden child, an innocent angel. I was me, and I was too pure to see or do anything that pertained to sex. Even asking about it made people think I was growing too fast. It ruined people’s perceptions of me, and it ruined my perception of myself. Naturally, it all left me confused, but still wanting to know more. It was like a forbidden fruit.

All I knew was that, in the right circumstances, a body could provide pleasure and a unique emotional closeness with another through sex. I found this idea one of the most interesting and beautiful things, and I sheepishly searched about it on Google in my free time. But even once I’d gotten my period and was “fertile,” sex still wasn’t something I could connect to myself. It was always something for the more experienced, for people who’d already owned their bodies and knew how to use them. As someone who had a separated and awkward relationship with their body, sex seemed like a distant reality.

So when I first experienced it at twenty-one, it was obviously a tricky process. I didn’t want my partner to see the body I hadn’t fully owned yet. It felt incomplete, like it would never be good enough. I showered him with apologies about my body, and was initially afraid to go too far. This caused frustration on both sides. This was a sexually experienced man, who couldn’t even get a chance to cum because his lover was too afraid, and I was an all-around inexperienced woman, who wanted so badly to see firsthand what sex was like, but felt it was out of her league.

Thankfully, my partner was patient and straightforward with me while we explored sex together. When he and I finally orgasmed together for the first time, something else changed for me. I felt more natural in that moment than I had in any other. I got to do something with my body that not only made me feel good, but also made someone else feel good. My rectangular shape and my sad banana boobs didn’t matter in the enormity of a climax. Instead of seeing my body as something that had happened to me, I discovered how to use it to serve me and how strongly I would cum. It was the most freedom I’d felt in a long time; probably ever.

I began to see my body differently once I experienced sex. Slowly, but surely, it became less foreign to me. I became more confident from seeing it as a sexual temple that I held the reigns to. I could go out in public without a bra. I could look in the mirror without grimacing (as much, at least). Hell, I could sleep entirely nude if I wanted! Those things felt like such breakthroughs for me as a person who’d hidden her body away in embarrassment for so long. At the same time, those things felt so natural, like my newfound confidence revealed to me that I’d been capable of this the all along.

I still don’t feel comfortable in my body all the time, but I’m more willing to explore it now. I no longer apologize as much for how it looks in front of my partner, and knowing how to work it during sex has become second nature to me. I’ve found more importance in being in tune with my body and what helps it to thrive, realizing I control whether or not it does. Today, I can look at my “down there” area, and know that it’s mostly comprised of my vagina, and not feel uncomfortable about what functions it serves. Now, I can talk to people more freely about sex, as I see that sex shouldn’t be something scary. Most importantly, I’ve learned to take my body seriously. I can say that it’s mine now.

Assault Within The Scene

Hardcore and punk music have attributed a lot to my character, my values, and the ways in which I treat my counterparts. I’m unconditionally grateful for the female artists who have shaped how I look at myself and the other women in my life. I was looking forward to seeing a woman I admire deeply talk about her experiences in recovery and music.

I went to a reading of Patty Schemel’s autobiography, Hit So Hard, in New York City. After Patty read about her band, Hole, and her struggles with substance abuse, she asked us if we had any questions. I raised my hand and asked her if she thought that women in the punk and hardcore scene are treated better today than they were in the 90s. She looked at me and said, “No, I don’t think they are being treated better by any means.”

That was the answer I was expecting.

The hardcore community that I know resides in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. In the winter of 2017, and in the spring of 2018, local bands and musicians came together to raise money for Planned Parenthood. Wilkes-Barre was the first place to show me what it looks like to attend shows with hopes to achieve a better life through music. Wilkes-Barre’s shows are full of many different people who are more or less there for the same reasons: friends, music, community, and to feel like they belong somewhere that matters.

Shows can be a tough place for women.

There is a saying that often pops up on online hardcore messenger boards, “no clit in the pit.” There is a fear of being intentionally hit, touched, grouped, or harassed while in the mosh pit, because you are a woman. There is also the fear that any of these things will happen and nobody will care because you came here on your own and are thereby responsible for whatever happens to you. Violence against women is happening everywhere in venues across the country. It’s happening in the places where women are told they are the safest. It’s an epidemic that has grown out of control.

Audience and band members are rarely held accountable for their actions. Sexual abusers are constantly being forgiven. Harry Corrigan, the drummer of the New York-based band REGULATE, sexually assaulted a woman in summer of 2012. Fans called this assault “alleged,” because they don’t want to believe that their friends and favorite musicians are abusers. This “innocent until proven guilty” approach contributes to the stigma that women are dishonest about the behavior asserted by their aggressors. Corrigan made the following statement two years later:

I’d like to address the event on July 23rd, 2012. I feel extremely remorseful about what happened that night. I am not apologizing because of public scrutiny, but because I treated someone incorrectly. I was insensitive and I was wrong….. This event has forever changed my view of what consent is. I was 19 at the time of the event and I’ve spent the last three years confused as to why people were upset with me because I knew in my heart I would never do anything to intentionally hurt someone…. I take full responsibility for being insensitive and misjudging the situation. I believed it was a consensual occurrence between two adults and in the heat of the moment I should have been more responsible and conscious of the parties involved.

(Corrigan, 2015).

REGULATE continues to house Corrigan, even with the knowledge of his past behavior. This speaks volumes of the character of his bandmates, as well as those who continue to book and support the group. This summer they are playing This is Hardcore Fest, an annual punk music festival in Philadelphia. If the hardcore community doesn’t care about booking a rapist then doing so becomes relatively acceptable; ignorance breeds ignorance. It’s unfathomable to think that those who know what Corrigan did are still feeding his career. Celebrating REGULATE’s music is disgraceful. To openly allow a rapist to perform in a space that is supposed to be safe is shameful. It seems as if there is no pressure to take accountability.

Most men often get to speak from a place of safety, a place that women are not fortunate enough to occupy. It’s devastating to think about the how the woman Corrigan assaulted must feel. Once people started to stand up for Corrigan and accept his unspeakable actions, her community was lost. How safe can a show be if rapists and aggressors are welcome there? The victim is often forgotten because that is what is easy. It’s easy to ignore what has happened in order to allow the community to carry on unchanged.

The hardcore music scene is truly not a safe place for women. I say this because the evidence presented suggests that fandom prioritizes their image over individuals’ safety. Women are welcome at shows until their rapist or aggressor is playing the gig. While I would like to speak up for all women in the hardcore scene, I will not speak for them.

There is a huge lack of female visibility at shows. Lineups at shows and festivals rarely feature women, which makes it appear like there aren’t many female-fronted hardcore bands. But this is because many aren’t granted any kind of platform, resulting in a lot of hardcore girl bands going unnoticed. Knock us around in the pit, and don’t let us perform.

I recently listened to a music podcast called The Callout. It featured the story of a young woman named Emily who spent a lot of time in the Richmond, Virginia hardcore scene. After she graduated from college she toured with her friend’s band and met a guy she was interested in. An acquaintance warned her that he wasn’t a very good person, and that she shouldn’t hang out with him. Emily ended up letting him and his band stay at her apartment one night while they were on tour. He slept in bed with her and they started kissing. It started off consensual, but Emily soon grew uneasy due to the fact that his bandmates were sleeping just outside of the bedroom. Once she announced her discomfort, he got up and locked the door. They eventually fell asleep. Emily woke up to him touching her. She pretended to remain sleeping in hopes that it would end quickly. Emily said, “I was very uncomfortable with it and [was] hoping that he would just stop on his own. And eventually he did after, like, I guess he got what he wanted out of it. And it’s like ruined, like, that – it’s just stuck in my head, in, like, my body and my skin.”

His band had a lot of influence and power in the scene. Emily assumed that regardless of what she said, her abuser would be backed by his friends and fans. Years passed before Emily eventually decided to use the internet to call out her aggressor, which inspired several other women to come forward and share their own abusive experiences within the scene.

I’ve noticed that it’s difficult to ask other women about the lack of representation, respect, and the sexual violence happening in our music community. There is a very obvious hesitation about discussing these topics, as if they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing. Fear of retaliation is a huge contributor to the silence surrounding abuse within the hardcore fandom.

It’s common to be dismissed for being both female and resilient, but women do not need to adjust their feelings or repress things that happened to them in order to preserve the reputation of others. The values that surround the music we love are inconsistent with violence. So, the fact that violence against women is a common occurrence in the hardcore scene is deeply unsettling.

If we don’t continuously address this issue and have open conversations about it, then those who have never been through it or felt the weight of its devastation might forget that it’s even an issue. It is pivotal to make those who carry the burden of sexual assault aware of the fact that they have support and love.

Hardcore is about doing the right thing in the name of social justice. If we want that justice to be both honest and efficient than it must begin with those within the community. It may cost something to do the right thing, but you should do it anyway. Speak up if it feels right and call out those who hurt others. The only way to get through pain is to address it.

What Does Consent Look Like?

In the last 6 months, the world has seen an outpouring of stories related to the #MeToo movement. Countless men have been exposed as men who rape, men who assault, men who coerce, men who use the power of their money, fame, and gender to have sex.

Media outlets have tried to explore every angle of these stories — should the victim be believed, will his career be destroyed, how many women will come forward? At the core of all these questions, another remains unanswered: how could it be that men, so many of them revered and loved, be sexual abusers?

It’s easy to label the Harvey Weinstein’s of the world as monsters — they were deliberate about their abuse, it was calculated, and the evidence of their guilt is detailed and overwhelmingly plentiful. But what about the “woke baes” and the Aziz Ansari’s of the #MeToo movement, whose stories appear more like a breakdown of communication than a calculated and willful assault?

It’s here that I think we must critique how our society teaches men and women to behave in their sexual relationships and the gendered expectations that both women and men enact upon their sexual interactions. To begin to understand the complicated nature of the sexual communications that occur between men and women, all Canadians must acknowledge that socially, statistically, women in Western urban society are constantly under threat from some men, and that these threats may range anywhere from cat-calling on the street to sexual harassment in the workplace, rape, domestic violence and sometimes even death.

However, it is equally important to accept that men are under constant pressure from both women and their male peers to reassert a hegemonic version of their manhood: a version of tangible masculinity that always pays for brunch and opens doors just as much as it leers on public transit and “flirtatiously” pressures for penetrative sex after a first date.

Men are taught to avoid all things feminine. In adhering to this convention, they often begin to develop an attitude of seduction and authority towards women, a disposition which women eventually learn to subscribe to and normalize after repeated exposure to male-centered mainstream pornography, movie plots and personal experience. Women too, are educated from an early age that they are to be pursued by the men in their lives and that romance, love and sex follow this game of pursuit.

Femininity comes with its own social rulebook; one that states a woman should be chaste and play coy, if she wishes to avoid the slut-shaming that so often accompanies a lengthy sexual history as a woman. It becomes clear that one of the most obvious constraints to achieving a sexual landscape where assault and rape is infrequent, are the current attitudes and perceptions about sex that dominate our culture.

If we are to do better, we must understand the stereotypes and the gendered expectations that influence the way men and women interact with each other inside and outside the bedroom. When women are socially primed to romanticize a man who forcefully pursues them emotionally and sexually and men are taught that they are most valued when they are stoic, rugged and aggressive, we perpetuate a society where sexual communication is at best, unhealthy and where the lines of sexual consent are impossibly blurred. The role of gender norms and how those norms inform and influence the way sexual interactions occur must be unpacked if we are to enter an era of consent where the hashtag #MeToo refers to a movement of wanted and healthy sexual encounters for people of all genders.

Using an anti-patriarchy and sex positive feminist perspective, I hope to critically assess how consent forms a story. I’m interested in how consent is performed in heterosexual couplings that are established and intimate. Does consent change when you have been sexually active with the same person for many months or many years? Does consent move away from being verbal and explicit to something that is more fluid and assumption based? Does love change the stories of consent or even just the way they are told? Can this give insight as to how our stories of consent change once they are pushed out into the world, to be influenced and critiqued by the media, by society and by gendered expectations of sexuality?

Bailey & Lucas

What does consent mean to you?

L: I think consent is being open with somebody, and you know, in that moment having the same interests sexually.

B: Yeah, going off that , I think it’s being open to someone else’s opinion of what is “right” but also being open to hearing that and not shutting it down — being able to step back in the moment and be like “whats going on” and just take a second to think more about what the other person feels and what the vibe is… like, is this a good thing or a bad thing and also remembering to check in with yourself.

Is consent sexy? Can it be?

B: I think so.

L: I think so too. Bailey wanting me sexually, I find that sexy.

B: Yeah, that’s what I was gonna say… I think knowing that you want each other sexually is a super important thing, making each other feel like you want what’s coming, I think that builds up the moment even more. I totally think that’s awesome.

L: A big part of it for me, is Bailey enjoying what we’re doing and that’s when I enjoy it most…

B: I also feel like a part of building up that, sort of sexy feeling might be sexting or whatever — which in some cases, could be a form of consent but in other cases, you might just be doing that for fun and not consenting to anything else. This stuff can go either way and I think a lot of behavior that could be seen as consent isn’t and also vice versa. It’s definitely a blurred line.

What is wrong with how consent is being performed in today’s sexual landscape?

B: I think in the heat of the moment, a lot of people don’t want to sit and be formal and ask a bunch of questions. But there is totally a way to incorporate consent into the build up of everything. Even if it’s just to take a minute and look at each other and be like, “Are we good, is this okay?”

Bernie & Isabelle

What does consent mean to you?

I: Consent means giving attention and care to oneself and one’s partner. I think consent requires personal reflection and reflexivity, as well as patience, and attentiveness… I don’t think it’s enough to simply ask your partner what they want or feel comfortable with… it is also about creating an environment for each of you to identify your own feelings and feel empowered in communicating them.

What role does consent play in your relationship?

I: I think our relationship is a little unusual in that we are extremely open with one another about everything. Our relationship is built on mutual respect and unconditional love. That means that we are in constant negotiation and discussion, practicing care and understanding in all areas of our relationship. So, it’s absolutely more than just “checking in,” it’s also like — inviting each other to really think critically about what we want, when we want it and knowing that it doesn’t have any impact on the status of our partnership.

B: For me, personally.. I started engaging in sexual activity later in life, a bit more recently. Before, that was seen as a negative thing by a lot of people. Which I expected, cause I know how North American culture is. And uh, yeah, people would say a lot of things, questioning my masculinity and even when I would just be interacting with women… I’ve been assaulted because I’ve said “no” to sex. I’ve been slapped. This is the first relationship where, if I’m not into it I can just say “no” and there isn’t any anger or negative ramifications — there is just understanding on the other end. If I don’t want to engage right now, that’s okay… so, yeah. I definitely think that before, masculinity played a huge part in things because if you’re a man, then you only want it, and you can’t say “no” to it, but now [with Isabelle] things are very different.

I: I think that if the assumption is that men are supposed to pressure women into sex… that men want to have sex always, and women are supposed to reject sex and not want sex always — well then, how do two people come together on that? Sexual interactions are then based on taking, violating or pressuring… or based on rejecting and like… giving in — and these ideologies are a really negative force on any kind of development towards respect, mutual understanding or self-understanding. And consent in general.

How could performances of consent be improved?

I: I think consent must be contextualized and complicated. In addition to identifying someone’s interest in a specific interaction at a specific time we must also invite people to examine their own sexuality and sexual desire within the construct of femininity and masculinity, and examine the way in which specific bodies are expected to perform sexual desire, and how sex and sexuality stigmatizes some bodies but is celebrated in others. We must critically examine how such inequalities inform our own perceptions and desires as none of us exist outside of the patriarchy and gender normativity and neither do our relationships with ourselves or each other.

B: I think that pretty much says it.

Savannah & Will

What does consent mean to you?

W: I think for me, in my experiences, consent has really been up to my partner because I think men are often the aggressors in these situations and uh, so most of the time, I’m almost waiting for a green light… but then, also understanding that can take time. But to be honest, it’s really grey a lot of the time. A sexual partner could be having a great time and laughing and then you make a move and it goes wrong so like, consent has been a thing that I’m not even sure I have a definition of… mostly because it’s been such a scatterplot of hit or missed results.

S: Consent, at least for me, is about being respected enough to be seen as a person, whether that be in a sexual situation or just having regular conversation. [In an emotional setting] there are things that, I could be like “Hey, let’s just breeze past this as something casual” or things I’m clearly more sullen about it, I don’t want any prying… and it’s the same in sexual situations, there are some things that are obvious, you can’t just start doing things without there being a mood and a proper setting.

What role does consent play in your relationship?

S: Will approached me in a way that gave me assurance that I could make my own calls and I think that’s really the only thing that I personally, would want in a sexual place. That allowed for trust.

W: Yeah.. you know, I think it’s tough to feel affected by societies expectations of men — that they should always be “on.” Savannah could come in and feel either turned on or off by seeing me and you know, sometimes I just want to rest, or rejuvenate before things start and I think especially as a relationship moves towards a long term partnership, sex can sometimes start to feel like a chore — and like, you never want sex to feel like a chore.

S: *laughs* You make it sound like we have sex every twenty minutes!

W: I think what I’m trying to say is that when it comes to affirmations of consent, the onus often falls on me to “get it”—and you know, there are other things that you need to actually have sex, protection and other things, and it’s like, sometimes it can be awkward! There can be laughter because of that, uh, but I think sometimes the time it takes to get organized—taking off clothes or clearing a space, to have sex can be an opportunity to actually communicate about consent and what everyone wants.

Is consent sexy?

S: Super sexy, I love it. It’s pure communication about something that is important and personal… and like, that just improves the experience. So yeah, super sexy.

W: Yeah, it definitely helps. Because then you get to understand that person more on like, a sexual intimacy level and you know, what turns them on, what settings are more appropriate, what moods are more appropriate… in a long term relationship, I think the verbal communication of consent kind of falls off because you become more symbiotic… like, it definitely applies, but more fluidly. I think from a guy’s perspective consent is something that is less sexy and more nerve-wrecking… I dunno.

S: You know that first day? You just asked me to cuddle and I thought that was the cutest thing and I was so turned on by that. Just because you’d even ask to me cuddle. Usually, it would be like the guy just puts on Netflix and assumes it’s now “chill” and like, “let me put my arm around you, babe” … you were different, and I liked that.

Consent & You

This project is an artistic study of how consent is being performed and used in long-term intimate heterosexual partnerships. Its purpose is to encourage people of all gender identities, sexualities, and relationship statuses to question their performances of consent and the gender expectations that have been imposed upon their sexual experiences by society and the gender binary.

What it is not, is a definitive guide to what kinds or “types” of consent are right or wrong. In every situation where you are being physical with another person, please remember that consent must always be:

A) informed

B) specific

C) enthusiastic

D) freely given

E) reversible

By adopting this model of consent and incorporating it into your sexual experiences and rituals, whether that be with an established partner or a person you have never been intimate with, you create a sexual landscape where both you and your partner can feel safe, respected and autonomous in your sexual decision making. Each of us are responsible for changing the way consent is communicated and used within our sexual contexts, and by challenging hegemonic notions of feminine and masculine sexuality, we work towards a future where honest, open and reciprocal conversations of consent are the standard.

Photos of couples by Madeline Taylor.