A few months ago as I scrolled through my Facebook feed, I noticed an article on the role of sexual power and male/female demographics. Since Tim and I write on this stuff, I clicked.
Two seconds later I realized I had been redirected to the Playboy website. With cheeks flaming red, I furtively glanced around, hoping no one at Starbucks noticed where I had landed and then inhaled the info at high-speed so I could exit the site incognito. In truth, the article was a well-written piece but Playboy is not my usual stomping ground.
A few days later, my husband mentions to me that he accidentally clicked on a link off Facebook and it went to Playboy. He fessed up early because he knows I get an e-mail once a week with his browsing history.
How awesome is my husband?
So why do I get this e-mail, you ask? Am I one of those freaky paranoid wives hiding in the corners and spying on her man?
Uh…no. Although that would make for a good story.
Tim asked me to be his online accountability partner a while back and I am notified once a week if there is any questionable activity. My husband initiated this self-audit–not moi. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I never have anything to razz him about.
So when he mentions Playboy, I know I can mess with a little.
Husband: “Oh, uh, yeah…so there was this really cool article on Facebook and I clicked and I didn’t know it was on Playboy and…”
Me: “Yeah right, you just clicked on Playboy for the articles?”
Husband: “Yes, I mean, I know it sounds bad, but it was so innocent and I totally freaked out immediately.”
Me: Now dying laughing at his awkward attempts to explain this. I poke a bit more and then fess up.
Me: “Hey babe, I read the same article. I know you are telling the truth.”
And he breathes a big sigh of relief and then comes over to tickle me for busting his chops.
………..
When I saw the breaking news on Tuesday that Playboy will no longer post nude pictures it got my attention. I guess it’s okay to read Playboy at work now. Men for the first time ever CAN truthfully claim they read it for the articles.
Playboy explained the drastic move away from their lusty roots citing that nudity is now “passe.” They will instead focus on writing and increasing their readership based on different parameters. Because of the internet and easy access to porn, the “felt need” for nudity or what some would call “soft porn” has disappeared. Apparently, twelve-year-old boys could care less about sneaking dad’s mag now since their iPhone is easier to take into the bathroom.
Wow. It’s hard to believe nudity is so overdone now that iconic brands birthed on a provocative paradigm have transitioned to a less is more slant. When Abercrombie and Playboy drop the sexy, it’s clear the titillation of a naked body is that of a bygone age.
Call me old school, but I want naked to mean something.
I want to get hot and bothered by my naked man. (Just to be clear, I’m talking about my husband here folks) I don’t want to live in the land of rampant sexual inundation where naked is the new norm. Have we become “so numbed out by porn” that Playboy isn’t sexy anymore?
Am I the only one who wants to struggle a little bit at the mall as I walk by Abercrombie when the half-naked ripped young man is at the front door. I want to have the freedom to choose to avoid the men’s underwear aisle because I find toned abs attractive and every package sports a six pack.
I’m the girl who didn’t see Magic Mike, not because I’m not tempted, but because I choose to honor my husband. But darn it I want the freedom to choose right from wrong. I don’t want to just assume our culture is perverse and stop caring.
I want NAKED to mean something.
It allows me to FEEL something called temptation. It means I get to choose to stay or walk away from enticement.
I’m bummed that sex on Tinder is given out so freely that it’s lost its sacredness.
Way too many young people are now so jaded that sex is like flossing. “It’s just sex”, they say.
But it’s not just sex and it’s not just naked.
Naked is beautiful and sex is a gift. Our good God created them. They are not passe.
This may sound bizarre, because I’m not supporting naked men’s mags, but I grieve the fact that we are so far gone on porn that a gorgeous naked centerfold doesn’t cause teenage boys to go bat-poop crazy anymore.
I heard a Playboy rep say, “The twelve-year-old me is sad at this move.”
Well buddy, the 43-year-old me is sad too, because in our overly saturated sex culture, naked isn’t very naked anymore.
–Samantha
