Erotic Review Magazine

Going Tits Up or Balls Out?

by Bruno Phillips / 18th September 2012

As someone who has frequent cause to mock uber-feminist ravings I am compelled to join those who greeted the recent publication of Kate Windsor’s ‘topless’ pictures less with outrage than with a sort of angry sorrow.

The stuff about privacy, affront to royal dignity and Prince William’s personal feelings in the matter are, of course, issues to be given their due weight. What I personally find, and what I can only suppose many women find most irritating is the childishness of the whole brouhaha. This is a world where despite their ubiquity women’s nipples still sell newspapers and magazines because ‘the public’ will pay to see them. They will pay even more to see them because they belong to a future Queen. Is that truly sad or what?

Well, almost just as sad was the theft (which in a sense it was) and publication of pictures of Prince Harry with his dick (nearly) on display. Yet the outrage was far more muted. This was partly due to the circumstances, but I cannot help feeling it was due primarily to the fact that he was a man having a bit of a lark; as such, the event probably did him no harm at all.

If I were a woman I would be doubly fed-up about the Provençal privacy invasion. Firstly, because one expects to be able to relax with one’s intimates, however one is dressed. Secondly and most potently, because of the obsession in our culture with women’s body parts: all of them, including knees. Actually, it’s not just in our culture. In other parts of the world the obsession has led to women’s bodies being completely covered up.

It seems to me that the entire course of human cultural history has peaked – not at some happy point of bio-social equanimity – but at one where technology and primitive human curiosity conspire to show us, of all things, what a prestigious female’s mammaries look like.

Captain Wales may be concerned about whether his penis looked too small in that photo – but at least he has his Apache helicopter to fly off in. Poor Kate has only the task of smiling and waving as she accompanies her (helicopter-flying) husband and lends her interest to various worthy causes. Meantime the media and we, the people, are interested not in her brain but in her tits, her fecundity, and her sister’s bum.

Apart from Ken Clarke and his Hush Puppies, male public figures rarely have their personal appearance commented onwith the intense scrutiny reserved, it would appear, for women. However powerful they are, females must give as much attention to how they look as to what they say.

The only possible explanation for the struggle women have to achieve equality of esteem is that even in our most advanced societies (Norway comes to mind), there is an atavistic bio-socially driven assignment of women to the role they are born with – that of maternity. As Catherine Bennett pointed out (and I paraphrase) in The Observerof 16th September, Kate M is little more than a womb on legs for the House of Windsor.

So whether as earth mother, goddess, wise woman, whore, helpmeet or First Lady, the women of the world are born with a huge weight of predetermination on their shoulders. In the general run of things – the world beyond the feminist liberal left – most women and their men get along with life pretty well, and manage to work out how to play the gender game.

Maybe instead of being outraged, Kate should remind herself that having a nice pair of tits is on balance a good thing: at least she wasn’t caught having her toes sucked. Yet it occurs to me that the main reason for cranking up the anger may lie in the Royal couple’s location in Malaysia – a Moslem country – where anything less than fury would indicate a lax moral attitude toward the insult of having one’s bodyso publicly exposed.

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