Here’s un petit peek behind the Girly Juice curtain: when I’m asked to write a sponsored post for a client, usually there’s a particular “anchor phrase” I’m supposed to incorporate as a link. I use these client-provided phrases as my jumping-off point for brainstorming topics that could include them.
In this case, the client’s requested anchor phrase was “fart porn” (more on that later), and I knew immediately that I wanted to write about being “gross” and how that idea fits in with the cultural conditioning I’ve received as a woman – plus the ways that kink has helped me work through some of these anxieties. Come with me on a smelly journey into the realm of fetishes often viewed with disgust by those who don’t have them, and even sometimes by those who do…
“Women are supposed to be clean”
It’s funny/horrible how often women are held to standards that are literally inhuman (especially the more heterosexist swathes of society). We’re not supposed to have opinions or speak our minds. We’re not supposed to have our own goals in life, unless they can be neatly tacked onto the goals of whatever man we end up married to. We’re not supposed to wear comfortable clothes, lest we look frumpy; to skip makeup, lest we look ugly; or to let our body hair grow out, lest we look… I dunno… like mammals? And we’re certainly not supposed to sweat, excrete, or smell less-than-fresh – ever. We’re basically supposed to be beautiful robots who never complain, never age, and always handle our own maintenance in private.
For reasons that should be self-evident, this infuriates me. While I personally don’t feel any particular pull toward, say, growing out my armpit hair, spouting a constant stream of toilet-humor jokes, or pumping iron at the gym til rivulets of sweat roll down my back, I nonetheless think it’s fucked up that men can do all of these things without anyone blinking an eye, but if a woman does them, she’ll be judged as a failure of femininity by many segments of society. Fuck off with that shit! Let women be people! Let women be gross!
Fetishism as a portal to empowerment
In 2017-2018, I briefly dated a lovely person who had many fetishes I’d never encountered in partners before, from knives to robots to mortal peril. (Shout-out to those of you who read that sentence and immediately knew exactly who I’m talking about, lol.) They were also into armpits, especially sweaty armpits, and specifically requested that I skip deodorant when we’d be hanging out, because they wanted to experience the natural smell of my sweat, and even wanted to lick the sweat from my armpits.
We discussed all of this and I was open to it – there was no coercion here whatsoever, just so we’re clear! But I’d be lying if I said I felt 100% fine about it. It’s always scary at first to rebel against the rules you’ve been taught your whole life, especially if you’ve been told over and over again that your desirability, loveability, and value as a person are contingent on following those rules to the letter.
I had barely even experienced my own natural sweat smell in many years, having started wearing antiperspirant religiously when puberty popped off in middle school. I was so terrified of being mocked by the other kids back then, the way I’d seen other kids get mocked (which sucks too – we have no idea what circumstances were going on in their life that led to them showing up to school unshowered!). I remember taking the train out to visit this new beau, and surreptitiously wiping the antiperspirant off my underarms with a wet napkin en route – and even just doing that made me feel gross, in a way, like I was wiping off my good-girl femininity.
But through subsequent sessions of decadent armpit worship (which feels better/is hotter than I had anticipated!), sexting about “gross” fetishes with that partner and some others that followed, and (yes!) occasionally checking out stuff like fart porn and dirty foot worship porn just to see what’s out there, I’ve learned that the very things we’re taught to find disgusting are things that some people love more than life itself.
Hell, just yesterday I saw a post on the /r/RandomActsOfMuffDive subreddit that said, “I’m looking for someone who has a strong-smelling pussy. If you are worried you stink, that’s what I’m looking for… Just want to smell you and share in your body. If you are nervous about the way you smell, I will like it.” I’ve heard from so many people that they worry their genitals smell bad/weird, and I imagine it could be affirming and even healing to hook up with someone who actually prefers whatever you’ve got going on. What a revelation!
Being gross now
I’ve been interviewed a lot about my sex life and relationships (among other things), and I’m often asked about the logistics of long-distance relationships, since I’ve been in one for over six years at this point. One thing I’ll often say in these interviews, in a jokey tone that belies how absolutely true it is, is that I really value how LDRs don’t require me to shower. If I’m having a tough time with depression and/or chronic pain, I’ll sometimes skip showers for 2-3 days, leaving me grimy and unshaved – and I love that being long-distance means I can do that without needing to worry about how it’ll affect my partner. After all, they can’t smell me during phone sex!
But it’s also affirming that sometimes they’ll ask me to send them a pair of my used panties in the mail, sealed up in a Ziploc to preserve the scent – or, when we’re physically together, they’ll sometimes huff my sweaty shirt or socks when undressing me before sex. There are definitely still times when this horrifies me on a visceral level – like, “No, don’t do that, you’re gonna find out I’m human!!” – but there are also times when it feels like unconditional love, because it kind of is. My partner adores me no matter how gross or clean I happen to be at any given moment, because they see me as a full person, not just a robot who’s failing to perform femininity the way she was programmed to.
Kinks are fun and hot, yeah – but they can also be healing. They can help you unlearn the old bullshit calcifying in the back of your brain, and replace it with stuff you actually believe – including, if you like, the belief that human bodies may be gross, but they’re also glorious, strange, and miraculous. I think that’s fucking beautiful.
This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.