One Woman’s Trash is Another Woman’s Pleasure


still from Papi Pacify

FKA Twigs is one of my most-played musicians these days. Her song Papi Pacify is one of my favorites from her, but the music video. . . the music video that accompanies it makes me hot.

How to describe the video? Well (to use the word again) it’s hot, for one thing. Black and white, subdued, minimal—yet unspeakably, utterly bold. Starts and stops. Sensual, erotic, aggressive. If you’re reading this in a safe space, you should check it out (but fair warning, it’s kind of not safe for work).

If you are not in a safe space, I shall describe the video to you as best as I can. The video starts with Ms. Twigs’ head cocked back, resting on the chest of a very muscular, chocolate-skinned man standing behind her whose face looks down on her, and whose hands and fingers are engulfing her mouth repeatedly. There’s lots of choking, embracing, intimate eye-gazing, dominating grabs and jerks, caressing. Complete submission and surrender.

(Again: hot.)
(To me, at least.)

Now, this video would convey a totally different message if it weren’t for Ms. Twigs crooning in the background “Mmmm, pacify me. . .” which I think adequately sets the stage for what we’re witnessing: good ol’ fashioned kink, yes, but most especially. . .

A sexual woman in the throes of a consensual act of erotic power play, as well as a very shameless display of the broad spectrum of female sexuality, one that, for me, isn’t often shown so blatantly before my eyes.

Very, very powerful, were my first thoughts.

And then this. . .

One woman’s trash is another woman’s pleasure.

It’s crass, but I say it because it’s very, very easy to look at that video (or any other that portrays a sexual expression not akin to ours) with contempt and confusion. Like, “Good heavens, but she’s being brutalized! This is violence! How could she consent to such violence! I would never do this! This is trashy!”—things like that.

But it’s very important to be mindful that sexuality—especially sexuality as expressed by the feminine—is not always roses and chocolates and negligees. No, it can be coarse, savage, aggressive, and all by her own volition.

So here is your friendly reminder: As we are all on our journeys toward sexual sovereignty, don’t forget that sexual expression is as varied and vast as the persons who partake in its actualizations. And while we ourselves may not choose to indulge in certain types of pleasure-pain play, this doesn’t make those unique expressions of other invalid or unsexual.

You don’t have to understand. To each their own. Live and let live.

Or, as I like to say. . . fuck and let fuck. (Tweet that if you dare!)

© 2018 Ev'Yan Whitney. All rights reserved.