Collis Sex Festival: Deviance on Tap

By Joseph Rago | Sunday, March 23, 2003

Despite the reputation of our nation's sex shops—seedy private establishments where individuals in trench coats and dark sunglasses peruse the endless supply of smut, asking in quiet husky voices for the latest Barely Legal or Transformations—the academic élite are seeking to change all that. Never wanting to leave any deviant behavior private, lest it be oppressed, the common thought of administrators is to parade it around for all to see. Perhaps it started at Cornell University, where students and faculty debated the need for vibrator sales through the campus Health Services. After all, "we know masturbation is healthy, so any tools that can help people discover their sexuality are positive. Any action by the University that gets the idea of sexuality out of the marginalized place that we're used to seeing it in is a good thing," said Orlando Soria, a Residential Advisor. But if any campus prudes got all huffy, a student health services worker explained, 'Vibrators or personal massagers may have a broader appeal to people who use our massage therapy and physical therapy services for muscle relaxation. [Using a vibrator] can be a part of a holistic health approach.' Nonetheless, never wanting to come second in the parade of idiocy, Dartmouth felt the need to one-up rival Cornell. Why just sell vibrators behind the veil of health services? Why not sell them next to the dining hall?

When I heard that the Center for Women and Gender was holding a 'Sex Festival' to celebrate 'sex, sexual expression, and sexuality in its myriad manifestations and complexities,' my interest was piqued. 'People of all genders' were invited to participate, and I heard that it would involve free stuff. I was there.

My heart pounded as I walked into Collis Commonground, festooned with festive colored flags and a swanky rotating discoball,all illuminated in seductive mood lighting. Hearts were a prominent theme. In short, the atmosphere beckoned for some sweet lovin'.

I was greeted by a young woman in a pink wig named 'Moby,' who handed me a ticket for raffle prizes and ushered me into the Sex Festival. In seconds, I was approached by an older woman flouncing with a hefty wicker basket of prophylactics. This condom fairy had a wide variety of latex to dole out, offering colors all shades of the rainbow, including glow-in-the-dark rainbows. I suggested that she should dump the cornucopia all over the floor and have people roll around seductively in them, but she ignored my request.

Tables lined both sides of the room, and an island in the center offered punch and trays of cookies. A television blasted the film The Truth About Cats and Dog. Collis Commonground buzzed with a healthy crowd of students, and to a lesser extent a gaggle of faculty and community members.

At 'Ask an Older Woman' table, older—and apparently fatter—women were chatting about a wide variety of subjects. One was instructing a young neophyte in the use of dental dams, repeatedly mentioning 'the vulva area.' Another dispensed free samples of flavored lubricants. Visitors could savor an ample spread of culinary delights, including 'pina colada,' 'passion fruit,' and 'seedless watermelon.' There was also a corpulent gentleman wandering about wearing a nametag broadcasting 'Ask an Older Woman,' but his services did not seem to be very popular.

A long table featured an extensive assortment of sex toys. The College says that it supports diversity, and, at least when it comes to vibrators and dildos, the statement is not mere lip-service. The station was a dazzling display of silicone—including, among others, a vibrator with a floral pattern, some lifelike latex penises, a variety of strap-on apparati, some weird black leather thing with a strap, a vibrator with a 'Hello-Kitty' head on it, a metal gadget, and a vibrator disguised as lipstick. Elinor, the rotund, effervescent woman running the table, explained that the vibrator was designed for the modern woman who needs a vibrator in an airport, but wants to remain discreet. When one male student lifted a limp three-pronged object, she explained, 'You don't have places for these things to go.' The station also exhibited 'adjustable' nipple clamps and some other unmentionables. All the contraptions could be purchased from a provided internet site.

But it was not all toys, games, and fun at the sex bacchanalia. There were also stations promoting abstinence and sexual abuse awareness run by the Sexual Abuse Peer Advisor (SAPA) organization. A couple of toothsome coeds manned an abstinence booth, which featured a bowl of strawberries and tub of chocolate sauce for dipping. 'How Deep Do You Dip Your Strawberry,' a sign read suggestively. They also presented several alternatives to sexual intercourse—they cleverly called it 'outercourse'—including 'cuddling,' 'holding hands,' or even just 'talking.' The SAPA station centered around a prominent Price-Is-Right style wheel, which disseminated information about sexual abuse.

There was also a station with information concerning eating disorders. These women were fighting to combat eating disorders and the judgment of people solely on the basis of their physical appearance. There was a sign that read, 'Does anorexia make you have better sex?' Does it?Apparently, it does not.

They also offered a mimeographed memo entitled 'Building Blocks: Self-Esteem Tips and Practices for All Women.' I'm not exactly sure why this was handed to me, but I think it makes some points. For example, 'Put your scale away. Beauty is NOT measured in pounds.' And, 'Find a picture of yourself you really like and put it in a beautiful frame. Keep it on display where you and others can see it.' Or, 'Respond to others thoughtfully when they criticize themselves. Don't let their negative remarks go unchallenged. Rather, tell them why their statements are untrue and self-defeating.'

There were other more mundane issue-type tables that were not quite as popular as the more outlandish sex stations. There was a relationship abuse brainstorming station, a Student Global AIDS Campaign table, and a home base for the Students for Reproductive Rights club. The group VDAY was also in attendance, selling shirts and other paraphernalia. Students could also buy tickets to the play the Vagina Monologues.

Males also had their niche. The 'Men's Project' was also on hand, encouraging the male passersby to sign the 'These Hands Don't Hurt' pledge, which sought to end 'sexual violence against women' by changing the 'attitudes and behaviors of men in our society.' Some of its points included, 'Challenge sexist language, music, and jokes that degrade women,' 'Support women in their fight against all forms of oppression,' and 'Recognize that sexual violence and gender violence are closely related. Therefore, I will take an active role in speaking and working against homophobia and gay-bashing.'

There were not any actual intercourse demonstrations or even people making out on the couches by the fireplace, but a good time was had by all. Call me old-fashioned, but there is nothing quite like a College-sponsored carnival commemorating sex toys, fellatio, and promiscuity.

Collis Sex Festival: Deviance on Tap

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