Well, sitting around writing erotic fiction all day tends to make you curious about other magazines’ ideas and thoughts regarding sex. This led me to read an article in Allure Magazine not too long ago. Not my favorite reading material, by any means, but helpful when choosing appropriate eyeliner in a pinch. Anyway, it was called, “How to sex up your bedroom.” I immediately thought to myself: have a lot of sex, perhaps? Hire some hot escorts and situate them around the room? Display porn on both seventy-five inch flat screens? Move the shower closer to the desk? A few other stranger ideas came to mind, but I forced myself to focus. (I have to remind myself from time to time that it’s not all about me.)
Can you believe the team of writers didn’t list any of my great ideas?
Instead the first thing the magazine said was “Keep it dark.” Well that’s pretty standard. It’s also pretty easy when you never raise your shades, day or night. I mentally checked that one off.
The second thing these sex-perts suggested was “Choose opulent bedding.” I scratched my head. Hmm. How expensive was my comforter? Considering I’d purchased it at Macy’s during a fourth of July closeout sale, I skipped that suggestion.
Reading further about this level of opulence I hoped to one day achieve, they advised deep reds and maroon for color. Very sexy, they said. I glanced over at my virgin white bedding. They also suggested silk or satin sheets. Been there, done that. I’ve had sex on satin sheets. Well, let me rephrase that, attempted sex. It was like doing it on a block of slippery ice or on the sidewalk in Massachusetts after the snow melts, and the true cold sets in.
Starting to feel annoyed, I read further. “Light some candles.” Really? Do I look stupid to you? There are accidents waiting to happen, and then there are planned accidents. Practically arson. Hey, I have an idea! Let’s not use a condom at the same time and get pregnant during the fire!
They went as far as to suggest positioning these torches on the bedside table and the windowsill. Hello? If I can’t keep my Tervis from tumbling over three times during the night, then that candle stands no chance . . . and the windowsill? Very impractical considering the fire escape is the perfect place for impromptu sex.
I moved on. “Soften up.” Now what’s that mean? “Throw huge pillows on the floor.” Dude, I don’t have to throw them there. They’re there already, having escaped some time during the night. “It’s nice not to jump right into bed,” they added. No shit, that’s what the fire escape is for. They clearly didn’t get the memo.
And lastly, “Leave your lady things out.” Seriously? What could they be referring to? Tampons? Bottles of douche? Yeah, that really sets a playful tone. Reading further, I saw they meant—and I quote— “dressing gowns, kimonos, playsuits, underwear.” Drape these items over a chair or armoire, they dictated.
First of all, a dressing gown? What are we still in the sixties with our mothers ordering us to slip on a dressing gown before entering the bathroom? Jeez. I flipped to the front cover of the magazine to check the year of the issue and make sure 7-11 hadn’t played a joke on me.
And kimonos? Plural no less! Well, I’m not living in South Korea perfecting my inner geisha. Sitting cross-legged, humming American show tunes, and waiting to be chosen by some narcissistic prick. Sorry, no kimonos arranged scantily on top of my armoire. Nope, not in my Macy’s sale inspired bedroom.
And playsuits? Do they mean like a cat suit? Yes, I have two of those! I guess that counts twice! I made a mental note to take them out of the closet and drape them over the bedpost. Finally, a helpful hint in this excuse of an article.
And the underwear? They didn’t specify ripped or torn, very vague. The editor clearly missed the boat in reviewing this article before it went to print. I vowed to write a helpful letter so he or she could rectify their mistakes or maybe even issue a retraction so bright women like us might continue to read their magazine.