Why so much performance-arting of vaginas?

Ladies, artists, artist-ladies, we have a problem. We’ve reached a new terrain of terrible. My tolerance of this situation has remained civil, but I went right to CODE RED MAN DOWN just now when I saw that apparently someone is now knitting a scarf from her vagina for no reason as performance art. A scarf! Just knitting it from wool she stuffed up her lady flower! Knitter, please.

(Thank you Baby Sideburns)

A few days ago I read about a woman who apparently rubbed her bloody newborn all over her body and took pictures for art. (That’s literally bloody, as in covered in blood ala Carrie, not British swear words, although those are appropriate too.) ¬†I’ve given birth a handful of times and never have I walked away looking like I bear hugged a gunshot wound. Did this woman thrash around in a tub full of razors before scooping up her baby and smiling for that picture? WHY.


A while back another performance artist gave birth on display in a museum and another lady claimed she got herself pregnant every month and then took abortion pills FOR ART (later claiming it was fake, but the principle is still the same: trolling with your baby equipment). It’s gotten out of hand, people. I know shocking people with our vaginas is supposed to be this great equalizer, (the vaginas are just body parts! The owners of vaginas are not ashamed!) but here’s a standard question it’s good to ask yourself: Are the men doing it? I’ll tell you what happens to guys who show their D in public. They get a citation. They get arrested. I did hear of one male art student who performance-arted his jizz and yup, his “art project” was carted off to the trash. Like CIVILIZATION.

Update: Hailey on my Facebook page mentioned the guy who paints with his peen. I find that slightly different because no one sees him paint, nor do they see his bodily fluids and he’s not doing it for some greater point about gender. (Even semen art guy was making some head-scratching soup about “masculinity”. Back to our regularly scheduled program . . .)

Sure, saying the word “vagina” in medical context while fighting a bill is enough to get you banned from the Michigan House Floor, therefore we have a long way to go when it comes to acceptance of that body part. But isn’t putting your actual vagina on display playing into that very problem? It’s like, “hi! My vagina is the only thing about me worth talking about! Look at me! A big old talking cartoon vagina walking around! Just a vagina!!!” Problematic, no? Men didn’t get where they are by showing their peens to anyone who would look. Wait. Maybe performance art featuring one’s crotch is indeed the way to go. (Thinking . . .)

Recently there was a lot of uproar when Maria Kang showed off her smokin’ her bod after three kids, but the brouhaha was rather tame compared to the level of hate being poured on the mom of the four-day-old baby who posed in her underwear on Instagram yesterday. I have no hate for either of those women, but it might be a good idea for them to think to themselves, why is my body the reason for my worth? It seems the intention is to be recognized for their efforts and yet it boils down to how bone-able their bodies are.

There’s nothing wrong with being sexy or wanting attention or even using shock art as a vehicle to those means, but own it. Be honest. You don’t need to knit a scarf out of your vertical smile and act like you’re some art warrior for gender equality. (PS, she even knits on her period. I guess as an artist, she refers to that as her Period period. I digress.) Just knit the scarf out of your crotch and say I want people to look at me. If you want to pose in your g-string ten seconds after giving birth, just say, “hi, I’m a hot ass. Please tell me I’m sexy” but spare me the lecture on your health philosophies. Don’t act like your truth nuggets are being digested, or like your fitness morals shall now be gazed upon by the adoring public or like your vagina scarf is some kind of Statement. Don’t flaunt and moralize, pick one.

No one cares about your message if you have to use your vagina to tell it. Well. Unless you’re those weird Summer’s Eve talking vagina hand commercials. Those were weird.



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Filed under: Freeks, Talking Vagina

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