[dc]I[/dc]n Lauren Sandler’s article, No Sex Please, We’re Domestic Goddesses, she brings up the idea that many female bloggers tend to stick to their niche and forget all about the sexual aspects of life as a woman.
The Internet’s most ostentatiously blissful women — the curators of domesticity on Pinterest, Tumblr, and thousands of female-driven blogs — occupy a sexless aspirational world, a modern Douglas Sirk fantasy of color-saturated feminine mystique. So-called “food porn” or “shelter porn” is as close as we get to corporeal abandon. Forget teen sexters posting DIY erotica online. At the forefront of female cyber-exhibitionism, lifestyle blogging barely even acknowledges that physical pleasure exists, never mind its key role in domestic bliss.
She also goes on to say:
In the past, the figures who inspired us to don oven mitts never presumed to inspire a life beyond the serving platter. Julia Child suggested that she could help us to master the art of French cooking and no more; if we envied her kitchen pegboard, it was incidental. But when a young caterer named Martha Stewart saw the potential in selling crafty perfection to American women, elevating domesticity started a life-encompassing pursuit. Martha taught us to hand-mill, sponge-paint, and fricassee our way to bliss, but never bothered with the transcendent potential of what could happen upon those needlepoint pillows. Furthermore, she has always maintained a professional separation between her tutorials and her own life — the closest we get is gawking at her occasional posted schedule, which invariably involves organizing the stable and label-making. (She knew better than to write a prison sex memoir, but damn if you wouldn’t have read it.)
But the blogosphere is about intimacy, not international market share; memoir, not magnates. And so the micro-inheritors of Martha’s macro-mantle added a confessional veneer, a winking tell-all aspect and down-home relatability that suggested “whole living” really was the sum of the whole. The very framing of the lifestyle blog as a genre — look at me in my bedroom with my flannel-shirted boyfriend, look at the perfect meal I made for a picnic on our living room floor, look at me admitting to the dry skin I cured with this yummy organic shea butter — suggests a world flung open to you by a friend who wants to share every worthy secret to help you improve every aspect of your lifestyle. Those secrets, though, are products and humblebrags. The advice they offer is merely how to make ourselves, as women, ever more decorative.
Amanda Hess takes it a step further in her article for XX Factor – What Women Really Think, Lifestyle Lady Bloggers Don’t Write About Sex. Should They Have To?
The real problem here is not that furniture bloggers don’t write about sex or that sex bloggers don’t write about pillowcases. The problem is the assumption that if a woman does not blog her sex life, she is “sexless.” (Are technology bloggers considered “sexless” if they don’t discuss penetration while showing off their shiny new toys?) The flip side is that when a woman does write about sex—like Epiphora does—she’s seen as slutty, obsessed, or oversexed. (Mainstream stigma is the reason Epiphora remains anonymous.) Actually, she’s just skilled and experienced in reviewing sex toys. She shouldn’t have to blog about the furniture to be seen as a full woman.
What do you think? Should the Julia Childs of the blogosphere feel free to explore and share some of the more sexual aspects to their menu? Or should the twain never meet?