Have you seen the one about The Great Wall of Vagina? British sculptor Jamie McCartney poured plaster over 400 vaginas and displayed the plaster casts over ten panels to create The Great Wall of Vagina.
I am a fan!
I am a fan not because I love vaginas, even though I do, and not because the vaginas are scratch & sniff, because they are not. I am a fan because this piece is thought provoking and empowering and beautiful.
Jamie spent 5 years creating plaster casts of women’s lady bits. He included vaginas in their 20s and vaginas in their 70s, mother and daughter vaginas, pierced vaginas and post-op transgendered vaginas and even labiaplastied vaginas.
I tried to pick out the labiaplastified vaginas, but I soon realized that I have no idea what I was looking for. The supposedly perfect vagina is not like the supposedly perfect set of boobs.
I get boob jobs. I mean, I don’t GET boob jobs. Mine are clearly natural – low set and low hanging like ripe mangoes in the Caribbean in July. I mean to say that I understand the desire to get a boob job. Boobs are external and visible. They stick out … or slope downwards. In ancient times, big boobs were a sign of health and fertility because they were associated with the ability to provide milk for babies. Today, large, gravitationally impossible boobs represent the ultimate in femininity and sexuality, and now YOU can look like a fertility goddess with a bit of surgery.
Boob jobs aren’t always about augmentation. Some want smaller boobs to ameliorate back pain or to eliminate the ability to store pencils and protein bars under pendulous bosoms. I get that, too.
But labiaplasty for aesthetic reasons? Why? What are perfect vaginas SUPPOSED to look like? Come to think of it, what does my vagina look like??
I stared at the rows of vaginas for a good while trying to figure out which looked most like my own and came to the realization that I really don’t know what my splayed self looks like. Looking at all those vulvas, I don’t think I’d be able to finger my own vagina…
I do know, however, that I am not at all bothered by my own folds and flaps or hanging bits. Everything seems absolutely normal to me. Maybe I do have a weird vagina. Or maybe, as this piece suggests, our vaginas are all like snowflakes, individual and special and made to be caught on the tongue. Well, I don’t really think that Jamie meant to say that vaginas should be caught on the tongue, but he did mean to call attention to women’s sensitivities about their parts and the world’s obsession with a twisted view of perfection.
“The world’s gone mad,” he said in an interview. “We’re so focused on the physical instead of the person. You have a relationship with a person – it’s not just with their body, it’s with the whole of the person.” His pun was not intended. It was…hole-istic. Brilliant.