Unlike some of my much beloved fellow ButterCups, I am not a great fan of porn.  Without being a Puritan about it, I don’t overly care for it and wish there was less of it in the world, in general.  My issues with it would take a veeery long post to detail, and I’m not going to bore you with it.  But I would like to say, in observation, that porn here in the UK differs from good-old-fashioned American harcore, apparently enough that my ex-(British)boyfriend and I would go to sex shops in the States to purchase vids for his porn-loving best friend in London, because they are far superior in Americuh (YEAH, USA! USA!!!). 

At any rate, softcore porn is readily available here in the UK.  Even though I am aware of this, it still take me aback to see some bloke casually flicking through Page 3 of The Sun, in which some 19-year-old topless lass is smothering herself in baby oil and claiming that she really enjoys both manicures and auto repair -and this section is in FULL VIEW of any child, clergy member, or grandma that happens to pass by.  I would be more okay with this if there was a corresponding penis section, in which the well-endowed “Daniel” from Manchester stripped down to his sweat socks and gave a two-sentence report on his love of parasailing and Victorian love letters.  Truthfully, it is the sexism of the whole enterprise that leaves a bad taste in my mouth, even more than the presence of softcore in the the “news” periodicals at all.

But on the theme of this European comfort with porn/body, I have discovered something that brings me a certain amount of unanticipated joy.  I stop in a very prototypical news stand on my way into work, whether I am buying cigarettes, milk, a paper, or a banana.  And this boringly average news stand has a very boring range of magazines, from tabloid rags to motorcycle periodicals to porn – EXCEPT.  What caught my eye, from the first time I walked in, was this:

  
Yes, that is 30 Up, the magazine that brings you sexy ladies of a certain age.  Forget those barely-legal Playmates, these are women in control of their lives (I guess) who are more mature and way hotter for it.  I dig this!  Way to go, UK, for recognizing the power of the “Dirty Thirties.”  Feminism clearly states that women over the age of 25 can be sex objects too! 

Better yet, let’s take it up a notch.

And that, as you can see, features “Sexy Matures,” or the women of 40 Up.  I am still loving this, and empathize with the ever-constant need for Young Studs for passionate sex sessions.  But can I get a decade, son?

Yes, I damn well can!  I am ignoring the fact that, on the cover of 50 Up, the furniture under our covergirl’s left arm looks like a cheap faux-leather-couch-arm, and under her right arm, we see the dusky-shag-that-time-forgot (confusing).  I will also try to ignore the fact that these women are now officially classified as “desperate.”  Does this woman look desperate, in her sassy pearls and black lace corset???  I think not.  I think that, you, Mr. Washing Machine Repairman, are in for a lovely treat.  But does life stop after 60?  It certainly does not, and I have a dirty mag to prove it.

If you ever had a hard time imagining your grandpa tugging one out (I know it had never previously occurred to me!), now is your chance!  In an admittingly drunken state, I quizzed the till manager on the type of guys that buy these magazines.  “Just regular guys,” he said, although he admitted that the older gents go for the older ladies, which I find rather charming.  In a way.  (OAPS, by the way, stands for old-age pensioners.  Sex-mad ones).

So what do you think about these mags?  In my own case, if there needs to be porn, I am all in favor of SLIGHTLY more egalitarian porn.  What says the Peanut Gallery?

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