Interestingly, given that my vagina is always rearing up and trying to kill me as I sleep, I seem to be drawn to write blog posts about the more decorative aspects of them from time to time. I am lured to the prettified vagina like a moth to a flame.
I have written about vajazzling them, steaming them, and sticking lumps of semi precious stones up them, with a side line in nipple tassel twirling just for the bantz.
It should come as no surprise then, that people have started to send me links to articles on other vagina based larks. I have been reading them in horrified fascination. I haven’t written about them for a while due to me having fallen out with my own vagina, with which I am sulking.
As Nancy Mitford would say, we are not on ‘speakers’.
I can’t get my head around people titivating theirs when really I’d just quite like all my reproductive organs to disappear magically overnight, to be replaced with the laminated, Barbie non-vagina of joy. I’m not interested in festooning it with boho bunting, or throwing it a party, or making it look alluring.
It doesn’t make sense to me that I should be spending my time poking things into mine to encourage other people to want to poke things into it too. I’m going to run out of room eventually, and with all my pre-existing conditions, I’m never going to get planning permission for an extension.
I cracked this evening after reading about a shimmer highlighter cream that you can use to contour the vagina. I knew that I just had to write about it, regardless of my feelings towards my own nether regions. Luring my unruly lady parts into a trap using glitter (more of this later), I laid about it with a mallet, and leaving it stunned in a corner, I have returned to share my thoughts with you.
Firstly, who the hell wants a shimmery vagina? Actually, it’s probably those people who were keen on the vajazzling thing, but didn’t like the idea of getting Swarovski crystals stuck in their clitoral creases, or accidentally ramming one into a passing urethra when the glue wore off isn’t it?
As for the contouring, I know it’s all the rage. Tallulah is so about the contouring, and has quantities of palettes in various shades of beige, which she slathers all over her cheeks (facial, just in case you were wondering), so that she can achieve the ideal cheek bone, which is basically one that looks like you could carve ham on it.
Am I alone in thinking that labia don’t really need to look like they have bones in them, or indeed shine? Does anyone look at their partner’s vagina with a critical eye thinking ‘hmm, I’d really like to get jiggy with those bad girl lady parts, but on second thoughts, the fact that they don’t look like a shiny bacon slicer has just put me right off? I shall retire to my study and read Proust instead.’
Apart from anything else, one would assume that if things were going right in the rudies department, it would be more about the feel than the aesthetic. If you’re far enough away to notice the quality of the shine I’d say that you’re probably making some fundamental errors of play and are likely to be out on your ear in short order. I mean, as my granny used to say; ‘Never mind the quality, feel the width.’ Although I don’t think she ever said it about vaginas. At least not in my hearing.
Moving on from the aesthetic to the medical for a moment, I was also sent an article about women who are putting ground up bits of wasp in their vaginas in order to make them tighter.
Technically what they’re using are called oak galls. These occur when wasps lay eggs inside the buds of oak leaves, and the larvae hatch into them, creating a kind of oak/wasp based mash up around them.
You are supposed to grind the galls into a paste and whap it up inside ya where it will apparently tighten the vagina walls as well as making it less whiffy. (Hint – if your lady parts whiff of anything other than lady parts, probably best to get this checked out by a medical professional rather than poking a load of chewed up insect spit up your foof. I’m no medical expert, mind you. I’m just giving you my best guess.)
You can get much the same effect with the application of toothpaste mixed with haemorrhoid cream, or grout with a soupçon of horseradish.
How tight is tight enough I wonder? Will it contract until your entire vagina can fit on a grain of rice? You could get your name engraved on it by a skilled craftsman whilst on holiday.
I’m not sure I’m on board with ‘tightness’ as a hugely desirable thing in a vagina. I mean, I’m all for not sneezing and finding your uterus in your flip flop as a result, but I’m not happy if we’re talking golf ball in a hosepipe tight. I like a bit of wiggle room myself. I’ve never got over reading that bit in a Jackie Collins novel when a chap died whilst on the job and the lady he was pleasuring was in such shock her uterine muscles clamped over his penis and she had to have him surgically removed. Would that be more likely to happen if you shoved a shit ton of dead wasps in your fanny? I think it would.
If you could get anyone to go near it in the first place.
Finally, I saw that you can now buy capsules of glitter which you can also shove up your lady parts, which dissolve and then allow you to shed glitter all over the shop during sex. This is presumably for those of us who are into Tinkerbell style sex fantasies. Or have the horn for Neil from Art Attack and think this might lure him into bed.
I am troubled by this because glitter is really scratchy. Anyone who has had craft obsessed children will tell you this. They will also tell you that it is impossible to get rid of, and is worse than sand for getting into nooks and crannies you don’t want glitter in. So if you think for one second that your magical love making with optional glitter foof transferring to sparkly knob wand is going to stay secret, I’ve got news for you.
It will irritate the living crap out of your urethra for a start, and you will have the fun job of explaining to the doctor quite why your cystitis is so other worldly. There’s nothing magical about having to drink forty gallons of cranberry juice whilst pissing razor blades, even if they are more decorative than usual.
And it is a stone cold fact that any smear test you have for the next decade will come back with ‘hint of glitter’ as a result, even if you only try the stuff once. Seriously. If they made space ships out of a heady mixture of Calpol and glitter, they would be able to land on the sun and not melt. That stuff is indestructible.
So here’s my advice for what it’s worth. Aesthetically, a vagina in the wild might look a bit like a bearded clam (as my friend described it), but it seems to have worked pretty well for the entire duration of human existence in luring sexual partners to their doom/joy/impending parenthood.
You might not like the look of it. It may not go with your new stair carpet, or the latest spring/summer ’18 colour palette, but it’s totally giving some other vaginas and penises the horn somewhere, which is kind of the purpose as far as I can see. How about just letting it get on with its business without feeling the need to put up flock wallpaper or rinse it out with essence of wombat’s tears?
Rule of thumb for vaginas everywhere – If Gwyneth Paltrow thinks its a good idea, give it a miss.