I May Just Watch The Rose Parade

Upon hearing the news that Cloris Leachman will be the Rose Parade grand marshal, I dug 'round in my stash for this:



I love Cloris. Then and now, she rocks.

Feminist Carnival of Sexual Freedom and Autonomy: Calls For Submissions

I'm hosting the next Feminist Carnival of Sexual Freedom and Autonomy on January 5th 8th 2009. (Update: Extended due to holiday chaos!)

This sex positive carnival highlights posts/articles promoting the sexual rights and freedom of women -- you can get an idea by seeing past editions at Better Burn That Dress, Sister and Sex-Kitten.Net. However...

I just might be mixing things up a bit with my edition. I'd like to focus on the past -- for otherwise we are doomed to repeat it. So, in my official call for submissions, I'd like to outline a few specifics ideas or topics I'd really like to see.

Because this blog is about history, I'd like to see/read posts which are focused on the past. That includes, but is not limited to:

* Explorations of your personal sex/relationship history -- not fiction, but non-fiction musings about lessons, frustrations, etc. Bonus points if you can tie it to a film, show us art which reflects it, point to parallels in the life of a pinup, or otherwise connect it to some pop culture reference point.

* Biographies or discussions of famous folks; what they've taught you, forced you to think about, or rudely awakened you to.

* Art history, artistic movements, artists, specific works, etc. which explore themes you dig, wish would return "because", or otherwise have you pondering gender, sex and rights.

* Political, religious, criminal, cultural history lessons involving sexuality & human rights.

* Reviews & analysis of film, music, magazines, books, etc. from the point of view of where they fit in or the messages they send/reflect regarding sexuality & society.

* How & where pop culture and public policy intersect regarding sexuality, sex education, and private lives.

Again, the above are suggestions, hopes, dreams -- but don't feel like you are crushing them (or my spirits) if you write/submit something that's more traditional fare for the carnival.

You are free to write anything along these lines just for this carnival edition, send me a link to a piece/pieces you've already written on any of these or related and appropriate themes, and/or submit a post/article you've read by someone else that seems to fit & rocks your world or impresses you enough to make the effort to nominate someone.

Please email your submission to me at Naughty(dot)Words(at)gmail(dot)com prior to noon on January 4th, 2009.

"Paint Me"

I found this at eBay and know little about it -- but that only fascinates me more...

Unusual 50" X 27" poster for "Texoprint printing paper". Little circles of women with painted bodies are glued over the poster in spots.

Odalisque Perfume Ads Stink

Nettie Rosenstein's Odalisque Perfume ads in the 40's and 50's romanticized "odalisque" including the risque use of artistic nudes in the print ad campaigns.



"Odalisque" is a French form of the Turkish odalık, meaning "chambermaid." The term specifically signifies a virgin female slave who, being the lowest ranking member of a harem, was not allowed to serve the sultan but instead his concubines and/or wives.

There's not a whole lot of romance there, Nettie Rosenstein; not in being a slave, not in being the one to deal with the piss-pots of the harem, not in being too-lowly to even deal with the master -- unless, of course, you could prove a 'talent' and work your way 'up' from piss-pots to male pissing tools and be a sexual servant.

But Nettie was not alone in romanticizing these women. In the 19th century, odalisques were common fantasy figures in the Orientalism movement, featured in many erotic paintings from that era.

Scream-Singing The Praises Of The Black Canary Figurine

Collin writes of the latest luck of "B-list DC superheroine", the Black Canary, to get have three high end action figures released at once -- and it amuses me.

Barbie collectors recently got a high-end Black Canary figure for about $40, but the figure caused something of an uproar because of Canary's black-leather-and-fishnets attire. While the comic costume is meant to evoke something of a burlesque crimefighting kind of thing, overzealous parents decried Black Canary Barbie as a prostitute, or a participant in that most unholy of all personal practices, bondage. Never mind that most people should be aware by now that many Barbies are intended for adult collectors and are sold as such - someone just needed an excuse to be outraged.

I don't know why Barbie collectors act so damn weird about this stuff when there's not a kid in the world who collects Babs and Co. All the 'fashion dolls' are for adults, of various levels of perversity and orientations, and they have the adult price tags to prove it.

Collin continues:

Tonner's female figures are absolutely the company's strength but my love of females definitely provides a bias. Man, do I love females. While I loved Tonner's Batman, he's a very pretty man. The delicate, angelic doll look that Tonner employs fits so much easier with the female figures, which are radiant and idealized - very true to the idea behind much comic art. Apparently, superpowers make you really, really hot - unless you're being written by Grant Morrison. That guy's messed up.

I love a grown man who not only admits to playing with dolls (and action figures are dolls), but loves the erotic nature of the babes too. (OK, he doesn't quite use any erotic terms, but do I have to fill in all the dots for you?) Here's a passage wherein the collector hints at his lust more specifically:

Correct me if I'm wrong, ladies, but there must be something pretty awesome about modern fishnet technology, because I'm seeing it used everywhere, and more effectively than ever. Even DC Direct's 6" Black Canary action figure had these great fabric fishnets fixed around her legs - which is always so much more aesthetic than sculpted-on fishnets, which often end up looking like scarring from some kind of horrible waffle iron accident instead of high fashion. Canary has great fishnet stockings, and under them is a thin layer of flesh-colored fabric that covers the leg as a second stocking, and completely hides the knee joins, creating a seamless leg very effectively. And the perfect little boots? They zipper down the back. I almost wish I had some kind of weird shoe fetish, because the engineering of these is really impressive.

"Almost wish" you had a shoe fetish? Sounds like you're already there, Collin.

Personally, I'm intrigued with the metal stand holding her crotch. Now that looks like a great BDSM toy; part chastity belt, with access for forced orgasms.

I don't know a thing about the Black Canary, but I'm told that her secret weapon is a screaming head -- pretty sure that stand's got something to do with it.

Merry Christmas!

From a retro Mamie Van Doren -- and me!

The Pantyhose Jungle

I sent scans of The Pantyhose Jungle, an article in that Tip Top magazine, to Slip of a Girl to post at her lingerie blog.

Bare. Skin. Rug,

But who cares about the rugs? It's Yvonne Romain.

I Wonder What They Talked About...

What did they talk about, this white man who stole black music and this black man who crooned white man's music... It wasn't chicks.

Vintage Stuffed Santa Porn

Great Deals On Smut To Stuff In Stockings

Over a hundred magazines are on sale at Amazon through December 31; here are a few of my favorites:

Maxim (1-year), now just $5

Penthouse (1-year), now just $19.95

Playboy (1-year), now just $10.96

It Could Be Me With My Collection; But It's Not

Via Here's Looking Like You, Kid's review of The Knack… and How to Get It (1965), this screen shot of Rita Tushingham (as Nancy) naked in bed, but covered with men's mags.

Those 70's Lesbians Love Their Nylons

Tip Top magazine billed itself as a "cultural, scientific, and sociological publication produced and distributed as adult educational material aimed at illuminating on-going changes in contemporary patterns of societal behavior" -- but that was just to be allowed to sell & distribute smut. The magazine's tagline, "From the Tip of the Toes to the Top of the Hose," tells a better story of its true nature as a mag for nylon, pantyhose and stockings fetishists.


It's not a teasing peek-a-boo type of men's magazine but an explicit retro publication, with lots of natural (i.e. hairy) pussies shown spread wide open above those stockings, garters, & high heels. Not only does this magazine clearly remove any notions that "old porn was always classier", but I couldn't resist saying that this woman with glasses was no Tina Fey.



Not only do the babes wear hosiery, but they love it so much the lick it -- and of course, that leads to licking and screwing one another.




Tip Top, a Parliament Publication, Volume 10, Number 1 (August, September, October, 1970)' published by Jaybird Enterprises, Inc.

www.silent-porn-star.com/

The blog is moving to http://www.silent-porn-star.com/ -- keep your fingers crossed!

Let's Make Love In The Blue Lagoon

I absolutely abhor it when a person starts off a blog with "I'm sorry I haven't written", a preamble to some excuse that, frankly, nobody really wants to read; but today I have to do it. (Such is the curse of uttering the word "never".)

I've had a dreadful sinus infection, keeping me couch-ridden for several weeks as moms cannot afford to take to their beds and still watch the tots -- yet I was too tired to climb the stairs just for a change of sleeping venue. The reason I mention this is not to 'excuse' my absence (as a hobby-blogger, you pay me nothing for my services; so I owe you nothing in return), but rather to explain just how I managed to watch hours upon hours of films as I just have. OK, and maybe to justify things if, still under the influence of cold medicine & an antibiotic still ripping its way through my digestive tract (and sure to cause a yeast infection), I don't make a lot of sense right now.

Enough of the disclaimers already; get yourself a beverage and settle in to read because I'm about to begin a long post.

For the second time in my life I watched Let's Make Love (1960). The first time I saw it in its entirety I was about 16 & I really disliked it.

I told myself that I didn't like it because of Yves Montand. His personal ickyness in his relationship with Marilyn was so visible in his character (Jean Marc Clement) -- or at least that ickyness was the general perception of Jean Marc Clement & why the theatre group in the film was mocking him. Also, because 16 was the age at which I began stalking Marilyn Monroe, knowing how horrid director George Cukor was to her made me feel the whole film was a mean mess. While this film isn't Marilyn's greatest, and there's something valid in Marilyn's real life situations which would affect the film thus, the real truth -- the honest truth -- is that sixteen-year-old-me was uncomfortable with Marilyn's sexuality.

And it hits you right from the start of the film, with the voluptuous blonde wearing a bulky but short purple sweater over a sheer black nylon catsuit.



Strangely, I've always loved Marilyn singing My Heart Belongs To Daddy. I've owned it on CD and even performed the song, including public impersonation of Marilyn singing it (actually I did so twice, if you count my parody performance of My Heart Belongs To Mommy at a "lesbian music festival"). But the vision of Marilyn in such sexualized 60's beatnik garb just didn't sit right with me at 16; while the song was verbalized peek-a-boo & tease, the physical display was nearly vulgar to me.



Aesthetically speaking, I prefer more glamour and peek-a-boo tease than blatant sexuality in dress; but what made me squirm at that age, though I never would never say so out loud, was all those curves -- including a soft, feminine, rounded tummy. Watching the film again as an adult, I was once again embarrassed -- but this time, over my confused, immature, 16 year old self's reaction.

It's easy to understand, and forgive, a young woman's discomfort with such an out-there, highly-sexualized presentation of the female form. And I did forgive myself for that easily enough. But that other part, that lack of acceptance of a woman's real form -- including her belly, that seems unforgivable... Unless you allow for my early indoctrination of beauty standards which eschew the realities of the female form. And that's precisely what upsets me.



How unforgiving I was, how unkind to my idol, to not allow her her humanness in physical form when I was so ready, willing and able to condemn those, like Cukor and Montand, who wouldn't allow her human frailty-- or would exploit her for it. My inability to accept her non-perfection -- even when so uncomfortable being confronted with her attractiveness, her sexuality -- seems nearly unforgivable.

My only consolation is that I have out-grown such childish notions. Having put them aside, I no longer will need to avoid watching Let's Make Love.

Feeling wiser and somewhat emotionally victorious, but no better health-wise, I was prompted to then watch another movie that I had not seen since I was 16.

That movie was Blue Lagoon.



Blue Lagoon was the 'it' film for teens in 1980, and raised quite a ruckus which I felt was a much-to-do-about-nothing. Maybe it's because I was already reading far 'worse'; or maybe because while I found the film to be a sensual ode to (primarily) Brooke Shields, I did not find it erotic. Shields was (still is) beautiful, but I found the film footage to be more artistic than smutty... The island setting, the flora and fauna, the ocean and sky, were beautiful and Shields' beauty just seemed to blend in with that. It was natural. Not that sex isn't natural, but I didn't feel any heat. Not 'down there', not on my cheeks either.

You'd think that after all I said about Let's Make Love and Marilyn's obvious prancing sexuality that I'd have had some discomfort or other with this film. Especially as Let's Make Love was watched at home alone, while Blue Lagoon was a public trip to the theatre with my peers. But I didn't experience any sexual confusion or discomfort; at least not directly.



Perhaps this was because Christopher Atkins did next-to-nothing for me. He was too soft & pretty -- like those non-threatening boy-band guys (then and today). Which totally explains his 1982 nude appearance in Playgirl.

Even watching it again as an adult I was more moved by, attracted to, Brooke's beauty than his. But I certainly didn't feel 'erotic'.

Not that Let's Make Love made me feel erotic (then or now); but there was the idea of sex, much more so than in Blue Lagoon... In fact, Blue Lagoon, while lush & far more beautiful (in terms of film quality too), just had the feeling of kids playing at being grown-ups. It could have been the awkward acting, simplistic dialog dumbed-down rather than portraying innocence (almost mocking what we then-called Third World countries for a lack of education and superstitious rituals in place of actual Religion), but even then I held the director, Randal Kleiser, accountable for being too in lust with 'beauty' to care about the story.

In fact, I wasn't just "not erotically moved" by the film, but disappointed angry at what was delivered as opposed to what could have been. There were hints of possibilities, things to think about, but it was campy -- and what was up with that tacked-on rushed ending? Wasn't the family's return to 'society' one of the most interesting concepts to explore?

I guess Brooke & Chris were too beautiful for anyplace other than that island setting.

Anyway, the sticking point for this film, the food for thought for today, is what happened after my friends and I had watched the film back in 1980. All my friends, those I had seen the movie with and those who had just seen it period, were absolutely in teenage love-lust with Christopher Atkins -- and staring at me oddly because I was not.

This is where my embarrassment kicks in.

No, I didn't think I was a lesbian; I didn't think I had any problem at all. I was embarrassed by their adoration of this pretty man-child, that they would fall for some mishap of movie making which attempted to manipulate them -- transparently, cheaply, and without any skill or finesse. Like a cheesy country song or the clumsy hand of a careless lover whose only concern is to please himself. (Yes, Kleiser, you can take that personally.) How could girls fall for that? Truly embarrassing.

It was even more embarrassing & disconcerting than those who objected to the film for moral reasons.

I was keen to watch Blue Lagoon again after my recent experience with Let's Make Love, I wondered how I'd feel about it now; but nothing had changed after all. I'm still disturbed that anyone could be moved by the film enough to fall for the romance or be outraged by the immorality.

Whatever points 16-year-old-me lost with Let's Make Love I more than recouped with Blue Lagoon.

But my re-run movie fun isn't over yet.

Next, up The Wedding Singer. There's not much to say other than I have always loved this film (I own it and the soundtrack); as a product of the 80's why wouldn't I? While watching it with my husband he asked, "What else has the actress who plays Linda been in?" I couldn't think of a thing -- which is rather a shame because Angela Featherstone's excellent as the bitch-to-hate.



But the real reason I mention this is that right after The Wedding Singer ended, I flipped channels.

What did I find?

On the Sci-Fi channel, Caved In: Prehistoric Terror, an as-to-be-expected campy horror film -- starring Angela Featherstone and Christopher Atkins!

I shit you not.

Featherstone is still pretty; but Atkins isn't -- he's finally handsome!



Chris and I have finally grown up, I guess. And now I wouldn't mind some nude photos...

PS If you're still reading this, I will be (fingers crossed) moving this blog to its own domain & private hosting this weekend.

I do this because ever since the "blogger warning" has been issued to me (and yes, I take it personally), traffic (also affected by a lack of posting, I know) and stat tracking (which should not change with poor posting habits) has dropped drastically.

I honestly have no idea what fresh hell I shall discover with such a move, but, despite the possibly snarky sounding (yet accurate) statement that I owe you nothing as far as guaranteed postings, I do apologize in advance for any craziness which comes from 'moving' the blog.

Erotic Romance Postcard From The 1920's

Via ~Laura~* at Flickr.