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I was reading today that the vagina is the key to the female soul. Of course it is. I am writing in response to the Cuntini row, the pasta vagina and the feminist Naomi Wolf

 

I wanted to write a witty retort about how Ms Wolf is over reacting, but if someone threw me a pasta party for my Vagina book and called it “Cuntini” I think I would be offended too. Not sure I would suffer six months of writers block though. Or perhaps I would, perhaps that would be the last nail in the coffin of a woman who is trying to get the vagina taken seriously, on its own, in its own right.

 

If the vagina could walk down the street on its own, talk on its own, have its own friends, beg to be taken seriously. Would we? I mean apart from looking a little like Andrew Lloyd Webber, the Vagina is a hole, and therefore, would we simply see it walking down the street and try to fill it in? Stop it in its tracks. What would it say to that? Well, those with a large mouth have a tendency to say what they feel. Would the Vagina say “I don’t care what you think, I’m a tricky fuck, always have been”  Because lets face it, the Vagina is temperamental. Firstly she has one of those annoying names that no one likes saying because it sounds, well middle class and a bit wrong. I think, if Vagina did walk down the street she would have waist long hair, a skirt from Monsoon and be carrying a cello case. She would constantly have a cold or some sort of allergy. She would of course be excellent at the cello, because she is the sort of girl who is really good when she focuses. She will also be a good mother, but in that cello player sort of way.  Jesus sandals and lentil bakes.  The Vagina is not good at being wrong. She cries and gets very upset.

 

The trouble with Vagina assuming all this importance is that she is of course vain. Tucked away and not talked about is the absolute worst thing that could happen to her. If Vagina extended from our trunk, as the penis does, she would be a simple uncomplicated thing, because to be seen is to be heard.

 

Ms Wolf is right about the Vagina, the problem with it is that some women are ashamed of it, and this shame isn’t helped by the fact that it is constantly needing attention, either because its malfunctioning, or requiring lusty filling, or because its being used as a thoroughfare for our offspring.  She is right that the trauma the vagina suffers is probably long lasting psychologically and does affect the quality of on going orgasm. She is right right right about how it is hard wired in to our nervous system and connected to the spinal column and therefore all sorts of back problems can stymie our Vagina’s pleasure responses. Yes she is right about all this, but will it change anything? Will it make us respect it more?

 

No – because the Vagina is down there, I can’t see it I can’t look at it and can’t admire it. It’s a chore, it’s a problem, whether I like it or not, love sex or not, the fact remains that the Vagina is not an object of admiration like the Phallus.

 

I don’t hate my Vagina, I’m not ashamed of it, it’s just a hole, something that is part of me, something we can celebrate if we like, something that does its own thing, whatever I want or don’t want.  I struggle with the concept of its great importance, because my life is not built around my Vagina or my sex. If my Vagina was to saying anything to me it would probably be something akin to

“Excuse me, would you mind taking a photo of me and my friend?”  I’d do it, I’d take the photo, then smile politely and move on.