Listen up, boys: we are bringing back the Speedo.
By we, of course, I mean you, I already have a scandalously scanty bathing suit. You, the sexy chunks of man tuna I see at the pool hiding your white-legged shame beneath floppy surfer shorts. You, the middle-aged dads who could be total DILFs if you would just stand up straight and own your years. You, the prematurely-balding college kid sitting on the edge of the hot tub with a look that apologizes for being half-naked anywhere, ever.
You, sirs, are bringing back the Speedo. I hereby free you from the tyranny of clothed obscurity! It's your turn, you get to be sexy. I don't care what you look like, you are going to take joy in your body. You are going to be happy with your random assortment of borrowed molecules. You are going put on that stretchy man hammock, and you are going to work it hard.
Objectification: it's not just for ladies anymore.
After my last post, I received an email from a male friend voicing his concern that I had chosen to talk about my own personal vagina (instead of just pooti-tang in the abstract sense). He wondered what I hoped to accomplish by making people think about my genitals. (There you go again... Naughty.) He said that he was sure "all of the non-hegemonic women who read your blog loved it", which is sort of a nice way of saying "whores like whore stuff, duh", but in the beginning of his note he hypothesized that if a man had written a similar essay about his penis, it wouldn't be as well-received.
Subtly patronizing slut-shaming aside (good girls don't talk about their nethers, and you want to be a good girl, don't you?), he makes a valid point. While men are very rarely shamed for their promiscuity the way women are, they are often equally objectified and ridiculed according to rigid definitions of masculinity, denied the full and dynamic range of their personhood.
Male sexuality has been long neglected, treated with a sort of callous, bro-style chest-bump that leaves very little room for nuance or variety. Men in our culture have been led to believe they are incapable of being sexy. Any attempt is looked down on as "acting like a woman", or being "metro-sexual". Men are allowed very few avenues of physical vanity while women have a full toy chest, an arsenal dedicated to attracting the opposite sex. We get silky panties, and fishnet stockings, and stiletto heels. Men get aftershave.
This is, in part, due to popular and pervasive attitude that women are just inherently more sexy than men, that the female form is smooth and curvy and soft, while a man's body is all angles and pointy things, hairy and gross.
Well, we are done with all that. Men, take note: times are changing. We want to see you naked. There's a ladyboners section in Reddit's popular gonewild subreddit. There's LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know it" video, which is both a parody and a male-centric homage to the typical rap video. There's... Manuel Fucking Ferrara. Your masculinity is quickly becoming a commodity, and you don't have to be Daniel Craig to cash in. You just need to figure out what about being a fella makes you feel sexy. Is your shoulders? Your biceps? Maybe your beard? Or is it more primal, when you get right down to the meat of things, is it, as my friend seems to imply, something too long unmentioned and neglected?
Enough thinking about my vagina, honey, talk to me about your cock. At length, if you like. I wait with baited breath to read your blog about how powerful and sexy and duderrific your member makes you feel. I can't wait to see men of all shapes and sizes shaking their money-makers at the beach. I want to catcall construction workers, and ogle teachers. I want Boylesque to be a big and sensational thing, I want this attitude that women don't really look at men banished, gone forever from the public consciousness. I want the Full Monty. Bring me your naked, your hairy, your erect and flaccid masses...
You're sexy, and it's time you knew it.