If
it wasn't for my ass, I sure as hell wouldn't
be here right now. I owe it all to my butt,
and this is a monumental confession, considering
ten years ago I hated it so much that I told
my mother it was unjust to breed and curse a
kid with wide child-bearing hips and strong
round buttocks. Then I tried to kill myself
the traditional teenage way--anorexia--and damn
near succeeded.
I was a total tomboy. I wanted to play football
and punk rock, not be ogled by my algebra teacher
and wear eye shadow. My ass kept getting in
the way! I tried hard to hide it in extra large
skateboard t-shirts and dad's sweaters, but
still guys came sniffin' around, saying that
there was something in my walk, in my very carriage,
that was so sensual, cocksure and come hither...
something that screamed sex. It was my ass.
God damn it!
My family are all athletes. We have big strong
Norwegian butts that have kicked ass all the
way to the Olympics and the NFL. One favorite
tale at the Las Vegas dinner table is how baby
brother needed a shot in the ass, and Doc's
needle broke on his muscular glute! Big strong
Norwegian butts.
Well, I HATED mine. I wasted away to ninety
pounds and fainted climbing stairs, yet ran
ten miles a day. Still it was there. I've got
wide hip bones which cannot be altered. My ass
fucking followed me everywhere, threatening
to kill me as I tried to kill it. This went
on for years. Until I was SAVED by STRIPPING!!
There are many who claim that stripping is empowering,
allowing women control over their sexuality
and the male gaze. I agree 100%. It is also
empowering and liberating to learn that men/
women/ society don't really believe what fashion
magazines preach, i.e., that thin, androgynous,
mutant-tall women are the definition of female
beauty.
Imagine my surprise when, several years ago
when I was a newbie, some young hot guy at the
rack exclaimed that my ass was the best thing
he'd seen in Portland, that watching it was
"like fireworks going off." I was floored. An
epiphany. My ass was an asset! Guys loved it...and
paid for it. Who cares if less self-assured
chicks still snicker oh-my-god-look-at-her-butt.
That's their fashion-victim problem. Meanwhile
I get compliments all the time that I must be
half black, that my butt is the best in town,
etc., etc. I've even come to refer to it, half-jokingly,
as my best feature. Stripping allowed me to
accept my ass.
Sometimes I still feel like there's a monkey
on my back. It's not a tomboy butt. It's an
inherently sexualized, überfeminine accessory
that I never would have chosen to adorn myself
with. But heck, look where it got me. I've got
a lovely career in the performing arts and edit
fabulous Exotic Magazine, which lets
me do just about whatever I want. Like for instance
this ALL-ASS ISSUE!!
SCARED
OF CHAKA ALERT!!! Broadcast Oblivian,
featuring members of Scared of Chaka
and the Murder City Devils will be playing
at Dante's on May 15th with the Makers
and My Regrets. Word is Broadcast Oblivian
is Seattle's hottest new act. OF COURSE THEY
ARE. See you there.
