Tag Archive: women

The Dot Spot

The Dot Spot by Dorothy Black

dot spot

This book is bylined as ‘Adventures in love and sex’ and while it is that, it is so much more. It really is adventures in you; adventures and voyages.

Ms Black is a sex columnist who finally, thank everything you believe in, decided to write a book.
“A sex columnist?” I hear you say, shocked and slightly titillated (if you were honest).
“We don’t really need another book about all that!”

Oh yes we do. And this is the book we need. This is the book every single woman needs, and probably quite a few men too. It’s the big sister we never had, even if we had a big sister. It’s the friend we can trust who knows more than we do but never makes us feel stupid. It’s the slightly crazy aunt we adore because she makes it okay to say stuff and ask questions, and she tells us the truth.

Because this book is not just about sex and what to do, how to do it and where to find people to do it with. It’s about finding out who you are, what you really truly want and need, and then being empowered enough to go ask for it.

It is chocful of information and opinion as well as experience. Ms Black is not some expert tut tutting at you for not knowing stuff, but rather your mate sitting around a dinner table admitting what she didn’t know and telling you how she gained the knowledge. She shows you the way, she doesn’t drag you down the path.

One of the many things I took from this book is the idea that we should stop speaking of our sex lives as though they are separate from our actual lives. As Ms Black says, it’s your life and how you choose to express yourself sexually. They are not separate things, one of which is active at a time. If one aspect of our lives is not healthy, you can be sure all aspects will be affected.

Ms Black takes women’s sexuality out of the basement cupboard of shame and has created a space where women, and men, can learn, grow and develop as rounded, satisfied sexual being. She simply and succinctly reminds us that we are going to be sexual creatures, and be sexually active – we may as well do it the right way for each of us. It’s too fundamental an aspect of life to screw up really.

The line ‘We do the best we can with what we have’ is used in this book more than once. There is no judgement is what anyone chooses to do, but what Ms Black is doing here is making sure that we all have more, know more, believe more, so that we can better make decisions about what we do.

And that has to be a good thing for the whole world.

The only problem I have with this book is that I didn’t have it as a 20 year old when I set off into the sexual wonderland. I made so many crappy decisions and did so many stupid things because I just didn’t know. Every single responsible loving mother who can admit their daughter will be a sexual being one day should get this book for her. In fact, every woman should read this book and then pass it on to the men they love, be they brothers, lovers, or friends.

Life changing, liberating and empowering – a wonderful book.

shaven haven

An article i wrote for a website a few years ago

Shaven Haven. Bald Beaver. Smooth Snatch. A lack of pubic hair is now the norm for young women and is generally desired by men, considered more hygienic by women and better looking by both. How did that happen? In one generation, the bush got beaten. And we didn’t resist or even see it happen. I decided it was time to look at how and why this happened.

As twelve or thirteen year olds, girls are given THAT ‘adolescent speech’. While squirming with embarrassment and trying not to think of our parents actually doing IT, we are told that our bodies are going to go through some changes. Part of these changes are a thickening and darkening of the hair in our armpits and pubic area. Our moms probably told us that we should shave our legs and armpits as that hair is on display and ugly. What our moms probably didn’t tell us was that at the age of twenty or so we will shave all of our pubic hair off and return in some ways to our twelve year old selves, just with breasts. So with our most intimate partners, in times of great connection as well as times of random fucking, we are going to portray a sanitised scraped clean, childlike version of ourselves.

But its cleaner that way I hear you all shout. Cleaner??? Cleaner than what? We all have head hair. Is that smelly and dirty? No. We live in an age of regular showers and ever present loo paper. There is no reason why any woman in the 21st century who is in a position to read this article should ever have a smelly vajayjay. We have access to cleaning materials for daily cleanliness and doctors should some S.T.D sneak through a condom. Pubic hair is part of our design and exists to catch the pheromones we exude. By denying that most female and fertile of smells as natural, we are creating an even more sanitised version of ourselves to present to lovers. They may as well go stick their dicks in a speculum. All shiny, smooth and clean. It’s supposed to be soft and hairy and smell like a woman.

But back to what men want. Perhaps pubic hair does require some delicate manoeuvring when torpedo tonguing, but honestly, is everything we women do for men a picnic? Do guys have any idea how often their dicks whiff of urine? Do they not know that their farts get stuck in their jocks sometimes, only to be released later, hideously matured, in our faces? Blow jobs are not all sweet smelling and roses you know. And let’s not even start on what sperm tastes like. I think parting a little hair to get at the important bits while going down on a woman should hardly be considered a huge issue in comparison. But apparently men don’t want to have pubic hair in their way. I ask you though, if there is no hair can we still call it muff diving, a fur burger or even a beaver? We are going to have to think of new words for these fabulous bits of slang, somehow going ‘smooth surfing’ rather than ‘muff diving’ just doesn’t sound as sexy.

The shaven haven is also considered to simply look better. What we think looks good, is beautiful or desirable, is not a personal decision much as we like to think it is. It’s a social construct. Different countries of people find different things attractive. They have to. If every person you ever see has green eyebrows, you damn well better find them sexy or you are never gonna want any. And that’s not good for the propagation of the human race. The image of the perfect woman has been through many manifestations. The Mona Lisa has no eyebrows, Rubin’s women were plump and curly haired, the models of the sixties were rake thin, porn queens of the seventies had copious amounts of pubic hair and now it’s all about smooth and clean shaven. The men at every stage mentioned found what was prolific, sexy. And now young men find bald beaver sexy. And they really do. It’s just important that they, and we, know it’s a fashion thing. Just like big hair and leg warmers in the eighties. We shudder when we think of that and perhaps we will shudder as forty year olds in the 2020s to think of what we did to our pubic hair.

And let’s all hope like hell that this constant, and unnatural, scraping of this most sensitive skin, together with constant touching by our clothing, doesn’t desensitise that area. Wouldn’t it be a cruel irony if all this de-hairing for the sake of men, perceived aesthetics and hygiene resulted in decreased sexual pleasure for us eventually? That’ll teach us to pander to men and fashion!

I blame porn for the popularity of the shaven haven. Air brushed fantasy women images abound. No one has labia like those so graphically exposed in skin mags like Hustler. And many women don’t know this. Most of us have only ever seen our own genitalia and have no idea that we are probably perfectly normal and the image on the page or screen is the one that isn’t. So we have managed to find yet another situation in which we can attempt to emulate this fantasy perfect woman and fail. How fucking brilliant of us. Now we have to be perfect working women, mothers and social creatures, ladies in the living room and shaven whores in the bedroom. Any more unnatural pressure we wanna put on ourselves? Cummon, surely we can handle more before collapsing in a self-hating heap. Sex seems to no longer be about how comfortable and connected we feel with a partner, or about how rampantly horny we are, but about worrying about leg hair, armpit hair, pubic hair, smell and taste. Why oh why have we created yet another restriction and let an addition prerequisite creep in?

But, considering that when asked, most American girls interviewed said they thought that Barbie, plastic sealed smooth fanny and all, was one of the two perfect bodies to aspire towards (the other being Britney, pre weight gain and psychological breakdown) it would appear that I alone stand hairy and proud.
The idea of this article is not to stop or even criticize women who do shave. It rather seeks to ask you shaven women to examine and know why you do it. And if you are okay with the ‘why’, than carry on. It’s your choice, that’s the point

Japanese school girls

I had a mailed response from someone i know who lives in Japan following my Hello Kitty post. We got to discussing the whole ‘Japanese school girl as sexy’ thing.

My friend said: Oh the lolita shit. fcuk you  have no idea how much I hate it and how much it weirds me out. creeps me out enough to make my skin crawl

And: when a 40 year old tries to dress like a 15 year old school girl, there is so much wrong with that psyche. with the woman who thinks its acceptable. and the society that forces her to behave in such a way


She lives there so i guess she knows to some extent what she is talking about. At least she has actually seen these women in real life.


I decided to go do some research before i commented. When goggling ‘Japanese school girl’ the first site on the list has naked and near naked pictures of very young looking oriental girls in school uniforms posing in revealing and provocative positions. As do most of the first ten pages on google.

So i googled ‘South African school girls’ and the first site was about Oprah’s school for girls here. No sex on the whole first page.

‘American school girl’ spat out rapidlibrary but admittedly the next site was one offering sexy school girl costumes.

‘British school girl’ first had strippers and then a kid with swine flu!


So it seems that Japanese school girls are certainly not the only ones sexualised but they do seem to be much more of a sexual icon than other school girls. And only Japanese grownups seem to pursue the school girl look in all seriousness. And it is only Japanese school knickers (used) available for sale to rich wankers online and in vending machines!

So why is Japan the site of this horrible Lolita fascination with school girls? Why do Japanese girls and women buy into it? There is even a phrase for it in Japanese: buru sera.

The religious may say it’s the secular society; the result of a society with no moral code being broadcast from the pulpit. Some may say it’s actually just the true nature of man (male not kind) to lust after the ripe yet unplucked and that other men simply deny their desires. The fact that the age of consent in Japan is 13 probably doesn’t help either.

In South Africa ‘Sugar Daddies’ buy the favours of younger women in a ‘cash for affection’ transaction which is a small step away from pure prostitution. This occurs in South Africa mostly between very poor girls, some of whom are child heads of households, and richer men who take advantage of the financial needs of the girls. This cross age dating happens in Japan too, and is called enjo kosai. However, the poverty of the girl does not seem to be an element in this kind of dating, only the age.

Men using and abusing and lusting after school girls is no new phenomena. I just wonder why it is so much part of Japanese culture. And why nothing has been done to protect the girls, partly from themselves!

belly dancing

The belly dancing classes i attend are a wonderful space.

We all shimmy and shake and tinkle to our own personal level of ability. We laugh at ourselves and wear scarves bedecked in clinking coins around varying shaped hips and bottoms. Young girls swing almost undeveloped hips while older women are reminded of unused muscles of youth. Shoulders, breasts and bellies undulate and move rhythmically; knees walk and hips snap; arms flow and veils sweep.

 And in the back row i almost strangle myself repeatedly with my piece of exotic fabric; i step on the wrong foot and pull muscles trying to drop a hip in the wrong position;  i clink whenever one else is clanking and i fall over my own feet.

 I have such terrible co-ords hanging washing is a challenge. And now i am expected to be all flowing and graceful with a veil between my fingers. Now that really is a challenge – and potentially life threatening in an a 3 metre radius.

 But i love it. The women are all just doing their thing; there is no competition or nastiness. The women who are more capable encourage the crap ones (ie me) and remind them that everyone is bad to start with.

It’s not all ‘lets look at our vaginas in a mirror’ hippy women shit where we all share stuff. It’s just easy, gentle energy. I may never even be friends outside of the studio with a single one of these women, but i like the time we share learning to belly dance.

 It’s energising and empowering!

I do think i may be bad at dancing forever but so what, it’s not as if i will ever get a position in a harem.

Twenty-four hours in the Life of a Woman and The Royal Game
Stefan Zweig
ISBN: 9781901285611
Publisher: Pushkin Press
www.kalahari.net: R135,96
Exclusive Books: R195,00

 Two novellas by German author Zweig. And they seem incredibly well translated.

 Twenty-four hours is quite simply a story a woman tells a listener (and the readers) of 24 hours of her life in which she behaved rather uncharacteristically. The story really is rather simple but it is so beautifully written and so engaging that i read the novella in one sitting. Not a huge task, but considering all the other demands i have right now, an accolade to the writing.

 The tale is actually about addiction and passion; deceit of others and of the self; hope and foolhardiness; and ultimately, about the separateness of us all. It’s about one woman’s hope that she could make a difference and her realisation that perhaps none of us can; about how society dictates and may not always be right. And about how the constraints of society, while exhilarating to flaunt, are almost impossible to truly escape.

 While these are always arresting themes in a book, what makes this story so much more valuable is that this novella was first published in 1944, but Zweig died in ’42 so it was probably written in the 30s. Progressive thinker he was in the creation of his protagonist.

 The Royal Game is, predictably, about chess.  Or so it seems. Again, the story starts and seems to be about one thing and then isn’t. In this novella, a dim-witted idiot savant is discovered to be a chess genius. The story diverges from him when the narrator encounters him on a ship and tries to arrange an accidental meeting over a chess board. And so is introduced perhaps the ‘real’ story of the novella. Or perhaps not. It’s hard to decide.

 This story raises the question of the difference between pride and a self-destructive inability to lose, obsession and addiction, single mindedness and monomania. It looks at chess as a motif for the ways in which we construct and conduct our lives; and the ways in which others, more powerful, do that for us.

 Interesting stuff and also a hugely readable and engaging story.

 I also really love the way this man writes – in some ways it is so old fashioned as to be a breath of fresh air.

 ‘Visitors who had come to see their friends scurried hither and thither, page boys with caps smartly cocked slithered through the public rooms shouting names snappily,…’

 I loved both of these novellas and am glad to found Zwieg.