This morning, after coffee and watching Girls (an episode coincidentally about speedy weddings…) I tip-toed over to my stunning and amazing BFF Khadeja’s blog (Khadeja is the Body Pride photographer, if ya didn’t know). Continue reading “Vocalize: Tell ‘Em Whatchu Want.”
I love men. I love the way you smell, the way you walk. I love hairy men, strong-bodied men, skinny men, short men, tall men, dark-haired men, light-haired men. I love calloused hands, I love hairy butts and arm pits. I love penis lines, linty belly buttons, a freshly-shaven face, a strong jawline. I love the way you touch me, hold me, grab me. I love the way you look at me – “steak eyes” is what Stella calls this, the way a man looks before he’s about to eat a really good steak – I love the way you dress, the way you talk, how you move in a kitchen, how you order your food, how you interact.
I just love men. Continue reading “An Ode to Men”
The beautiful thing about Body Pride parties is how quickly every girl forgets she’s naked.
Welcomed with warm smiles and open arms, Caitlin offers a glass of vino and seats you in a circle among girls just as anonymous as you; the atmosphere is quiet but full of anticipation. The floor is cozy with a soft spread of blankets and the twinkling white lights adorning the walls provide a level of security that can only be attained with a nurturing intent. In the middle of the circle lies a fantastic spread of munchies (all of which are pro-veggie and health conscious – most of which I generally wind up chopping and plating), as well as the book with veteran Body Pride sisters smiling up at you from the clean white pages, their love-filled manifestos to their bodies hand-written beneath their photographs. Continue reading “Body Pride: A Letter From Your Photographer”
This is what girls do when people don’t show up to workshops…
Outfits courtesy of Misha Lovelock, a ‘sextanista’ to the death.
As a sidenote: This is not a workshop. This is just fun. Super sexy fun.
And some of you may say: BUT CAITLIN. Why advertise this on your website that advocates healthy body-mind relationships full of healing, learning and consensual experiences? Doesn’t it seem kind of backwards, flakey and like you aren’t an adult who is in control of this potential website-boom that could likely make you famous??
A) Maybe. In your mind. If naughty outfits with awesome ladies equates with unprofessional.
B) Wouldn’t it be wildly hypocritical of me to not express and be proud of my own sexuality when I am trying to promote such things in others?!
Yes. Yes it would.
Tune in next week when Caitlin dresses up like a clown and starts sexily popping balloons.
Get it while it’s hot, gooberfaces. Soon this junk won’t be for free.
This is a general, random posting on the current ongoings and fumblings of the Body Pride Workshop Parties.
First of all: There are no orgies. Trust me. I am an instigator of orgies and this is neither the place nor the time for girl orgies to be occurring. Sorry to all of the hopeful and creative sexual minds of men and women.
Second of all: Some of the feedback we have gotten so far,
“Ladies, thank you for such a fantastic night last night. It was so empowering hearing all your stories and learning from them. I will always remember that party. It was a joy meeting you all and I really hope our paths cross again in the future. I woke up this morning feeling (a little hung over) but also so refreshed and feeling like I learned so much about myself. My roommates should get ready because I feel like I will be doing a whole lot more naked dancing around the apartment.”
“I’m rating this as a 10! It was so refreshing to be exposed to girls in their ABSOLUTE truest form! I felt like I was in one of those Dove Real Women ad’s but like a reality version hahahaha. It’s really great to be around real people with real stories, because everyone’s sharing real stories that you can probably relate to in some way or another. It’s was so liberating! Feeling a slight boost of naked confidence now.”
And most influential to my Superwoman ego:
“you’ve enlightened me in a way my therapy and group counseling never did.”
Now. About the booze, because this seem to come up a lot. These ‘parties’ are workshops in the sense that you walk away having gained/learned/grown or whatever have you. It’s hard not to. You are experiencing something that you have not experienced before. And who knows, maybe you grew up in a nudist colony and have absolutely no problem hanging out in the nood with your BFF’s. BUT, this party will be a new experience for you regardless, because: a) I’m the host, and the creation of these parties has developed from the creative, spiritual, and ‘my-mother-trained-me-to-host-properly’ part of my mind – as well as the colorful and comfortable right brains of Stella and Khadeja, b) because… I don’t know, I’m like… teaching you shit, or something…
WHY I DON’T WANT THEM TO JUST BE WORKSHOPS:
1. Every workshop I’ve been to has bright lights, things to distract me and I often get distracted by shiny clothes, how many times the ‘teacher’ uses the word ‘actually,’ and the seam of my jeans. Heh (side note: previous sentence was a really good example of why the Oxford Comma is a useful tool…)
2. I don’t know about you, but every experience thus far in my adult life that has brought reason to ‘celebrate’, there has been some form of alcohol involved. Always. DONT ASK ME WHY. This isn’t a blog about the history of alcohol consumption. It’s a blog about sex and body and relationships and all that junk that is more fun than history. Celebration = booze. Unless you are in AA or are allergic… It’s a general human tradition. A rite of passage occurs and we fuck up our minds to see the world differently. Being naked and happy and accepting with each other seems like a damn good reason to celebrate, if you ask me.
3. Parties are fun. It’s how we bond. We drink, loosen our tongues, pour out all of our secrets to each other, and now we are best friends. It’s just how it works. For some reason, we become closer when we let go of inhibition, are slightly vulnerable and get chatty. And naked.
The above reasons are why there will continue to be alcohol provided at our Body Pride Workshop Party’s.
I am no Sexual Education God (…yet). I don’t meditate every day, I don’t read as much as I should, I don’t know how to orgasm with my mind (JEEZE CAITLIN. Seriously?! You don’t know how to orgasm with your MIND?! WTF is wrong with you!), I’ve done stupid things, I have stupid stories, I’ve done drugs and smoked cigarettes and had sex with people I didn’t want to have sex with. And these reasons, my darlings, are exactly why you should come and hang out with me in the buff.
This is where it gets all deep and weird and when my small amount of meditation and spiritual texts actually come into play:
It doesn’t matter.
Just let go, and let it be.
And, from the wise tattoo I got when I was probably far too young, spontaneous and silly to be getting tattoo’s (nothing has changed…), “Love and do what you will.”
Eh. There it is.
Now come get naked and party with us.
It has happened.
Thinking of getting your beef curtains trimmed?
It is as if someone has handed a beaming stick of light to Mr. Savage and said “Sonny Boy, within this here said stick lies the power to create meaning and intention within language. By me giving you this glowing wand of awesome, you will kick ass in so many ways.”
And he took that stick. Did he ever take that stick. (All innuendo intended.)
As I hopped onto the streetcar yesterday, I chose a seat that was pleasing to my personal Feng-Shui and happened upon NOW magazine flipped open to the back wherein lies the never tiring Savage Love column.
Rick Santorum is running a presidential campaign. This is him on military and gay.
Google ‘Rick Santorum’ and the second link down is where you can witness the power of Dan Savage.
‘Spreading Santorum’ is now defined as “the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the by-product of anal sex.”
Now, it is a personal goal to try and avoid fighting fire with fire, and I’m not going to say that I necessarily support the mission of turning someone’s name into a visually and viscerally unappealing sort of sexual discharge. But, reading this last article in NOW, I have to say, not only was I kind of really impressed (as I march forward altering the negative associations revolving around the word ‘slut’) but I laughed heartily in public, and that, to me, is like a distant telepathic high-five to Mr. Savage.
“You know what gave me a sad? Reading about Janice Langbehn and Lisa Pond. The women, together 18 years, were vacationing in Florida […] when Pond suffered an aneurysm. Langbehn and [their] children were barred from Pond’s room when they arrived at the hospital. A social worker informed Langbehn – who was distraught – that she wouldn’t be able to see her wife because they were in an ‘anti-gay city and state.'”
A Twitter commenter: Time to follow through on your threat to redefine ‘rick,’ Dan.
“Already done: to ‘rick’ is to remove something with your tongue – the ‘r’ from ‘remove,’ and the ‘ick’ from ‘lick’ – which makes ‘rick santorum” the most disgusting two-word sentence in the English language after “vote Repuplican.”
Tell me you didn’t laugh. At least a little.