To send or not to send a dick pic? When this particular question is directed at viral content producer Lucy Baker the answer is an unequivocal “No”. Her song, “Don’t send girls pictures of your penis” has been viewed over 89,000 views on The Tab Durham’s Facebook feed. The adult subject matter of the song is juxtaposed with Lucy’s sweetly angelic vocal cords to make it ever more side-splitting. The Erotic Review harassed Miss Baker on what (or who?) moved her to pen (th)is catchy tune.
If you enrol at Philippe Gaulier school for clowns, don’t expect to leave as a comic genius - the school believes true talent is only found once in a generation. But according to professional politic-enthusiasts Bobby Friedman and Rupert Myers, Gaulier never checked the Houses of Parliament. Rife with buffoon-like behaviour, aspiring comedy writers can always cut-and-paste government goings on directly into their shows. But it was Jeremy Corbyn’s earnest and heart-felt plight that moved the two to fill the London stage with a full-length musical.
My first experience with dating apps happened when I was studying abroad: I decided to use Tinder to make friends. I’ve always been a guy’s girl, so I figured that in chatting up a certain type of man, I could establish — or at least feel out — a place for myself in creative London. Presenting photos with my best angles and an About Me that stated I was from New York and a fan of hip-hop and whiskey, I had no problem roping in multiple drink offers from journalists, DJs, and innovators. I was able to bypass the need to peruse blogs and magazines to discover where, and with whom, I ‘should’ be hanging out.
On Halloween we went to a Ru Paul’s Drag Race night. We took care with our costumes – the right level of taste and glitz and contouring. People danced with each other, groups of friends leading others to the main stage, praising outfits, winking; we danced all night. One of the last costume changes saw Sharon Needles come onstage in full David Bowie getup, man dressed as woman dressed as man. The place went wild, then sort of teary; I bawled into my gin. This was Ziggy, and so much of what we were here to celebrate was possible thanks to him. The room was packed with people who used to be the odd ones out, and now hundreds of odd ones out of any, all or no sexual/gender identity were packing the rafters to celebrate that difference, that symposium of irregularity.
On the basis of ‘can’t live with, can’t live without ’em’, we bade farewell to our seasonal pilgrims as they drove homeward toward the border and the first traffic jam of their journey on the A30. Such Schadenfreude was a little unbecoming for those of us who are immigrants, but enjoyable nonetheless.
It being a post-New-Year Sunday, a few of us had gathered at random in the Old Doom Bar with our newspapers for a quiet, pre-prandial pint. It is an unspoken rule that we eschew comment on serious news, so it was Mr Danczuk whose misfortunes formed the basis of our discussions. There was a sense of déjà vu about the affair. What is it about middle-aged men that compels them to text or tweet nubile young women in terms that they must – if they thought about it – realise would inevitably be characterised as inappropriate?
The standard perception of Scandinavian society is one replete with liberty and freedom of expression. We think of ‘openness’ as a byword for the Nordic way of life. Sadly, this may not always be the case.
Mathilde Grafström is, in her own words, ‘just an ordinary girl from Jutland’s countryside in Denmark’. But beyond her modest and self-deprecating manner, Grafström turns out to be a scintillating photographer of female beauty – a natural beauty with an edge of innocence.
'For some reason I have a talent for spotting beauty in others, when they themselves cannot see it,” she told me in an exclusive interview. “I hope to increase the self-confidence and self-esteem of young Danish women, who often feel surprisingly bad about their bodies.'
We live in a time where there is no longer one concrete set of traits that make somebody a “woman.” How is it, then, that we have no qualms about telling each other what “feminism” is and is not? Despite what the dictionary might say, I think the shooting range that is the internet has obliterated any one definition of what it means to be a “feminist.” In fact, it’s discouraged me from fully believing in the word.
Let me start by acknowledging my own basic circumstances: like many of the women writing about this topic on the internet, I am white, have received a liberal higher education, and come from an upper-middle class background. In other words, I am privileged. Born and raised in New York City and spending my life in the theatre, I am very sympathetic to and supportive of the plights of queer women, trans women, and women of color, but I still have no idea what it is like to live in those circumstances, and I can only write about what I know.
View All Articles »
One of the many perks of life at Erotic Review is the occasionally atypical things one receives in the post. On returning home last week my front door was stoppered by a heavy package: this’ll be something tax-y, I thought gloomily, as the paper came off.
Underneath lay a smart blue cover, bare except for one word that, in my haste to see what was inside, I didn’t spot. Turning to the first page there’s a print of Adam and Eve, all flora and fauna and Eden and bliss. Except that curled around Eve’s neck is what on first glance appears to be the serpent, but is – of course – a double-ended penis the size of a piece of construction tubing.
There are 40 items included in the rare-book collector Simon Finch’s catalogue. It’s called Eroticism, and all pieces have been taken from a collection of over 300 works squirrelled away lovingly over the years. Finch tells the story of arriving at an old bookseller’s while at university and noticing the enormous stacks of erotica, which the seller didn’t want to catalogue and which Finch subsequently took home in two creaking vans…
After getting lost amongst the hipsters of Shoreditch and wrongly asking directions to “The Glory Hole”, Erotic Review stumbled across Baby Lame’s Shit Show downstairs at The Glory pub. Entering through a staircase plastered in shiny gold foil, we were greeted by the “PUNK-HORROR-DRAG cabaret monstrosity” that is Baby Lame, and various others in genderless, trashtastic costumes. Perching against a wall amongst a throng of young hip people, No Doubt blasting the speakers, we were treated to a collection of weirdly wondrous and straight up crude cabaret.
Adapted from Michael Lewis’s book of the same name, The Big Short is an education in what caused the 2008 financial crisis. It’s informative about without being patronising, and unveils the moral realities of the financial world without being preachy. The flashes of genius in the soundtrack and editing are slicker than the most expensive suits on Wall Street. It is a boisterous, irreverent and intelligent romp.
What if I told you an inconvenient truth; that a flourishing, unwavering feminist movement was an unanticipated consequence of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. This is the starting point of Jewels of Allah, the Untold Story of Women in Iran, a book recently published by Nina Ansary.
It is inspired by Ansary’s academic work, researching the feminist movement in post-revolutionary Iran for a PhD in Columbia University. She lists a series of misconceptions about Iranian women in the first chapter and goes after them one by one, trying to rectify the stereotypical assumptions.
It was her book trailer video that I saw first, a very emotive film that made me choke (watch here).
Based on Ewan Morrison’s first novel, Swung follows David and Alice as they deal with erectile dysfunction and its causes. Areas of blame are evident; David, who has recently been made redundant is a father going through a divorce. While trying to sign up for the dole, he is distracted by a swingers site. When his new girlfriend, Alice, finds the offending page up on his laptop, she begins to research the underground world of swinging in a bid to find something that will sustain David’s hard-on.
The tricky thing about burlesque is that one never knows if it's going to be terrible. It's gathered new audiences in the past decade, and has become more widespread as a style of performance. It's relatively new (not to ER, of course, fnar) but to theatrical companies who might have cottoned onto a winner and started to dabble the proverbial toe. So yes, a blossoming industry – helped along by a renewed interest in cabaret and variety shows – but a spit and shoe polish enterprise nonetheless, which in my book makes it that much more impressive when it's pulled off. And this is – Chic Bonbons is entertaining, it's sexy and it's fun.
Murphy, an American film student in his early 20s is living with his partner, Omi, and their child in Paris as he laments the breakup with his ex-girlfriend, Elektra. He receives a voicemail from Elektra’s mother telling him that she’s gone missing. Instead of going out to look for his ex, he indulges in a set of opium-induced flashbacks.
View All Reviews »
Eve Made A Wish
Eve Made a Wish
has a wonderful selection of high quality erotic toys and lingerie for women at our boutique. We’re not burlesque and we’re not soft-porn – we’re here for positive, sensual erotic pleasure and contemporary design. Be seduced by us!
We stock fabulous products from Shiri Zinn, Je Joue, Rianne S, What Katie Did, Kiss Me Deadly and JimmyJane.
is a friendly, independent cycle shop in Battersea, London SW11. Established in 1992, our bike range isn’t huge but it is considered. British favourites and classics, Brompton, Pashley and Moulton rub handlebars with our favoured hybrid brand, Giant. Come and visit and see for yourself.
OPEN Tuesday – Saturday;
59A Battersea Bridge Road
London SW11 3AU
Tel: 020 7738 2766
Did Johann Salvadorus kill the Homecoming Queen? No, he did far worse…
Why not treat your Kindle (or other eReader) to a first-class read? Now available from ER BOOKS, Heart Killer is a dark, erotic, time-tripping crime thriller by Andy Nowicki.
Heart Killer is Nowicki’s fifth novel, with close thematic links to his controversial 2011 novella, The Columbine Pilgrim
eBook price: £4.30
Erotic Review Books
The web has a new home for creative erotica. An independent online publishing house, ER Books publishes carefully selected digital books, often beautifully illustrated with contemporary and classic erotic art. Browse our catalogue. Explore our website HERE