Why does flesh scare us? Is it because it reminds us of sex? Does nudity always equal sex? Why do we keep sexuality and nudity in a box reserved for the bottom drawer. You know that bottom drawer full of porn, sex toys, and God forbid, stylish, skimpy underwear. Our unmentionables. The stuff we keep hidden. The stuff we don’t talk about. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
That seems to be our consensus about sexuality and nudity in general. When we see someone in underwear or in the buff, we either blush, giggle or gasp. Unless, of course, when it’s in context: That hot blind date, Valentine’s Day, the gym locker room, the underwear section of a department store, et cetera.
Our Western counterparts of the world don’t have that problem. In England, you can be reading the morning paper, turn to page three, an there’s a featured topless women staring back at you. In Amsterdam, sex-education courses are taught at a very young age. Mind you, they also have legalized prostitution. In Madrid, Spanish accessories designer, Loewe, featured nude men in her runway show carrying only her handbags. Penises and balls flapping around for all to see. In Italy, there are a plethora of nudist colonies. The list goes on and on.
And then, there’s US.
Here in America, we censor everything. Swear words, suggestive content and nudity. Except of course, violence. We love violence. HALO, anyone? In the new Fifty Shades of Grey movie, they toned down the sex a lot yet folks still found something to complain about. Basically, from wardrobe malfunctions to breastfeeding in public; we judge it, we shame it, we ban it. Bottom line.
We at BodyAware have had our own run-ins with the censor police. Just ask Facebook, but I’ll save that rant for another day.
In the meantime, and speaking of flapping genitalia, take a look at the following video and tell us if it offends you or not. Do you agree that we Americans are just a bunch of prudes?
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