In honor of hungry arcade icon Pac-Man's 30th birthday, The Digital Vegetarian unearths this photo demonstration of the Sexy Ms. Pac-Man Halloween costume, and how it works (you pull your sexy castle grommet skirt up to reveal a ghost!) I surveyed my fair share of ridiculous sexy Halloween costumes last October, but Sexy Ms. Pacman may be the most curious of them all. Why is the ghost on her vagina? Why is Pacman trying to eat Ms. Pacman—on some boobs? Shouldn't the wearer keep her sexy castle grommet skirt on, in order to protect Pacman and his other half from this life-sucking vagina ghost? Whose side is she on, anyway? Whatever. Sexy! [Via Jess at Birthday Bread Horse].

But isn't the impressive public concern over sexualizing young girls outweighed by the fact that most people seem to truly enjoy watching these videos until they go viral—even if they then turn around to condemn the inappropriateness?

As Sady Doyle wrote in this very space, on the Important Cultural Issue of How People Generally Regard Miley Cyrus:

A lot of it was just grown men (and women) being all, “I’m afraid this might turn me on! And I’m scared!” And, yeah, you ought notta be eroticizing the teenagers. But constantly monitoring this one specific female teenager to determine whether she’s inappropriately sexy is, like . . . Not that much less creepy?

I think young women’s sexuality is often put in that place of overtly well-meaning, covertly creepy monitoring. Like, we’re SO OBSESSED with young women not being sexual (which they really usually are) that we constantly evaluate how sexual they are. And then there’s all the teen-eroticizing that takes place ANYWAY, because it’s so taboo. And the result is Britney, America’s #1 Virgin, dancing in a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, and later sort of cracking under the weight of how VERY many contradictions she was expected to represent.

Of course, there's a world of difference between what's deemed culturally appropriate for 17-year-old Cyrus and these 7-year-old dancers. But the monitoring of these girls is no less creepy, and their young age actually makes the fervor over the display even more suspect.

At some point, the outrage over the suggestive costuming and dance moves is just a convenient narrative for us to facilitate the distribution of the video to more gawkers. Somehow, those who had a hand in making the video are either exploited (the dancers) or sick (the parents and choreographers), but everyone who keeps watching the video (and forwarding it, and re-posting it on their blogs) are—what? Performing the valuable service of informing the world what displays are appropriate and inappropriate for young girls to parrot? Please.

I'm not writing this to throw stones—I re-posted the "Single Ladies" video on this blog, and I've watched it more than once. I'm writing it because I know as well as anyone that as much as this is about taking a stand for our nation's girls, it's also about the spectacle of watching a group of 7-year-olds dancing sexy. Somehow, my faith in humanity has not been restored.

This year on the Sexist, the pageviews accumulated like so many cats draped across my spinstery blogger frame. I'd like to take a minute to thank you all for clicking and commenting, even those of you who accidentally stumbled onto this blog while searching for porn. Especially you guys.

Below are the 10 most popular blog posts of the past year, with commentary on everything from semen facials to sexy librarians to nipple slips to Sarah Palin. Damnit! You all were just looking for porn!

10. Semen Facials Are Like Weddings, in which the degradation of porn can be ignored in the bedroom (as long as we can address it on the blogs):

Facials are like weddings. We all know that the institution of marriage is one of the patriarchy’s all-time greatest hits, in which women are sold into sexual slavery from father to husband in exchange for livestock. And yet, who derives the greatest joy from weddings? Women! It’s the craziest thing. But even though we all know that weddings were clearly institutionalized to facilitate the willing subjugation of women, feminists figure out a way to do it anyway. Why? Probably because even though we all know it’s sexist as fuck, weddings—like facial ejaculation—still make some people happy. And feminists deserve to be happy, too. But that doesn’t mean we should forget about the sexist tropes that sometimes inform our happiness (and our sex lives).

9. Library Conference Secret Twitter Proves Librarians Sexy, Stern, in which some librarians wish to silence the sexual overtures of other librarians:

Some librarians are exhausted by the conference’s material (”I have reached the point of the conference where I no longer give a damn about anything anyone is saying any more.”) Others are inspired by a perceived lack of cultural acceptance for a librarian’s sex life (”I am an adult. I am a librarian. I enjoy good sex. Including at this conference. What is the problem?”). Most of them, for whatever reason, are talking about fucking—that’s the “sexy” part. Not everyone is happy about it. That’s where “stern” comes in.

8. Huffington Post: Liberal Politics, Sexist Entertainment, in which nipple slips emerge as a liberal mainstay:

The problem is that people really do care about nipples. They care so much about nipples that the Huffington Post devotes pages and pages of photographs to them when women accidentally (or, you know, against their will) reveal them to the public. In that way, there’s no difference between the religious conservative who is scandalized by a bare breast popping up in the middle of his football game and a liberal Web site which devotes its resources to naked chicks. A woman’s body part is a priority. Real women’s issues, not so much.

7. The Onion's Best and Worst Rape Jokes, in which the hilarity of rape jokes is all about the target:

I’ve written a lot recently on who can successfully tell a rape joke and what targets are fair game for the butts of those jokes. One perennial source of rape humor, the Onion, gets the rape joke dynamic right a lot of the time. The format has a lot to do it: as America’s leading source of fake news, the Onion is always skewering the media along with its make-believe subjects, and media treatment of sexual violence is often ripe for satire.

6. The Rapiest Quotes From "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell", in which Tucker Max's jokes rely on almost (but not quite!) rape:

[youtube:v=-qpHzm5Z-eQ]

Max’s stories succeed on orchestrating sexual conquests that are increasingly outrageous, drunk, dubiously legal, painful, objectifying, and embarrassing to his sex partners. In order to continue to one-up himself, Max intentionally pushes the line of consent—getting drunker, getting her drunker, leaving his sex partners to fend for themselves—naked—on the street, hiding his friend with an undisclosed video camera in his closet while they’re doing it. It’s not hard to think of the ultimate scenario these increasingly absurd sexcapades are inching toward—it’s, like, rape, dude. And now—thanks to Max’s movie tour—undergrads everywhere can compete to have the consensual sex that’s most like rape without actually being a prosecutable offense. Sure, some dudes might fail and actually rape chicks. Oh well!

Need a convenient way to evaluate any charge of sexism? Pull out the "If It Were A Man" defense. Here's what you do: Isolate an instance of sexist behavior against a woman. Now, imagine a man is the target of the allegedly sexist scenario. Would the man be treated any differently? If yes, it is sexist! If no, it is not sexist!

This theory was recently tested out on a particularly incendiary Sarah Palin Newsweek cover. The magazine ran a photo of Palin posing in short shorts alongside the cover line: "How do you solve a problem like Sarah? She's bad news for the GOP—and for everybody else, too." Charges of sexism were instantly refuted by the "If It Were A Man" defense: It can't be sexist because it happened to Barack Obama:

"Was This Magazine Cover of Obama 'Sexist?'" Andy Ostroy of the Huffington Post asks of Washingtonian's May 2009 cover, which featured President Obama walking shirtless on the beach. Answer: Nope, it wasn't sexist. Therefore, no other cover image can ever be sexist:

To the Republicans who've been critical of Palin's mistreatment by the big bad liberal media, I say, stop your whining. Nothing's more unflattering than a thin-skinned conservative. The Newsweek shot is no more "sexist" than the May Washingtonian cover of a bare chested beefcake President Obama, who the publication called its "hot new neighbor."

Sorry folks, but that's not how sexism works. Ostroy is right, of course: The Washingtonian cover was criticized for a variety of reasons—from photo-shopping a public official to selling sex for page-views—but nobody accused the magazine of sexism. But Ostroy ignores two major distinctions between the Palin and Obama covers. One, Washingtonian used an ab-tastic photo of Obama to illustrate how hot he is, whereas Newsweek used a leggy photo of Palin to illustrate how bad she is. Second, Palin is a woman and Obama is a man. And the second distinction has everything to do with the first one.

First, perhaps we should do a little bit of a primer on what "sexism" actually is. Let's turn to the Gender Bender Blog for a reminder:

There is no such thing as reverse sexism. . . . Just like how racism = power + prejudice based on skin color, sexism = power + prejudice based on gender. When talking about the various forms of oppression, many people often confuse prejudice with the ism. . . . Therefore, a person who does not exist with the necessary institutionalized power and privilege of belonging to a dominant in-group, cannot be racist, sexist, ableist, etc. Women can certainly be prejudiced or discriminatory against men (which is not acceptable either) but they cannot be sexist or “reverse sexist” simply because they lack the institutional power to systematize their prejudice against men.

Why is it different for a publication to run a photo of Obama's hot bod and Palin's hot bod? Because male and female bodies signify different things to the people who publicize and consume them. These magazines applied explicit value judgments to the Palin and Obama bodies—hot Obama is just "hot," while hot Palin is "bad."

Women's bodies aren't just their bodies: They're also a reflection of their value as a person. This is why underage Taylor Lautner can prance around wearing next to nothing and be praised as "hot," while underage Miley Cyrus shows a bit of back skin and is condemned as a "disappointment." This is why male political commentators don't resort to insulting each other for being old and/or fat, like Meghan McCain and Laura Ingraham famously did earlier this year—because a man's looks aren't seen as a reflection of his worth, whereas women in the public eye are routinely judged on age and weight.

Sexism is not a copy-and-paste sort of thing—it can't be applied to males and female equally in all situations. Sexism is a structure. And particularly when it comes to appearances, that structure is stacked against women. Yes, men are criticized for their looks. But the "suitably male appearance" is far more forgiving than the "suitable female appearance," which must strike that delicate (almost impossible) balance between too sexy and not sexy enough. That's not to say that sexism exclusively functions through people conflating women's legs with their brains. But it is helpful to put these body issues in some context: This is a country where the images of George H. W. Bush and Barack Obama are both considered fit for the White House. I don't have to remind you that we've yet to deem a female body suitable for that position.

(a) stilettos
(b) pantyhose
(c) cleavage
(d) eyeliner

According to one lawyer, two will ruin a female attoyney's career, while two will send her on the partner track. Are career women held to a higher standard of dress than are men? Is business attire absurd all around? Or is the corporate uniform a valuable tool to help boys and girls get ahead? Reader theories—and the answers to your quiz—are after the jump:

whet moser says that the focus on low-cut blouses and too-high heels obscures the fact that in lawyerin', class issues cut both ways:

Yesterday, Feminist Law Professors drew my attention to the Miami Daily Business Review's "Rodent" column, a weekly anonymous rant written by various members of the legal community. The latest missive, "Lady Lawyers Should Dress the Part," warns female attorneys that they may be sabotaging their careers with overly sexy business attire. Actually, I think it's more likely that the conveniently anonymous Rodent, who spouts off platitudes like "women who dress like Barbie dolls get treated like Barbie dolls," is the force that's keeping women down in the workplace.

According to the Rodent, otherwise capable female lawyers are ruining their chances at being taken seriously by forgoing pantyhose, wearing heels, and revealing their cleavage:

Women who dress like Barbie dolls get treated like Barbie dolls. I know a lawyer who is in her mid-30s. She is stunning—tall, long blonde Lady Godiva hair and a body that would make a porn star jealous. This woman also happens to be a crackerjack lawyer. But she dresses to emphasize her looks, not her mind; as a result, her career seems to have stalled. Though she is an extremely bright woman, no one sees past the stilettos and low-cut blouses.

The vermin continues:

Clients tend not to hire women who look like hookers unless they hire them as hookers. Don’t show your “girls” at work unless you are looking for a one-night stand.

All right, let's hear one more:

I knew an associate who wore shoes that looked like she was a bridesmaid. She was a good lawyer, but there was a real disconnect between those gold sandals and the notion that she wanted to go the distance as a lawyer. She didn’t, and the shoes were a tip-off.

The Rodent's theories are convenient: The lawyer who looks like a porn star stumbled because her shoes are too high. The lawyer who looks like a bridesmaid is not serious about her job because her shoes are too strappy. The lawyer who looks like a hooker is not successful because her breasts are too prominent. Beyond the offensiveness of grouping female professionals into categories like Barbie, porn star, hooker, and bridesmaid, the Rodent appears to be going to great lengths to deny the obvious. Perhaps the lawyer who looks like a "porn star" is devalued because people think she's too attractive to be smart, not because she dresses like a Barbie. The lawyer who wears anything other than a turtleneck is devalued because she's got boobs, not because she dresses like a hooker. And the lawyer who looks like a bridesmaid, whose strappy shoes are a "tip-off" that she's not a serious lawyer? That sounds like a pretty insane explanation for a career misstep to me.

The Rodent, of course, is attempting to explain away a more offensive aspect of the legal profession: women are consistently partnered and paid less than men are. A commenter on Feminist Law Professors draws the obvious comparison between devaluing a woman's work based on her attire to outright sexual harassment. She writes that men have informed her of the harassment rule: “If she’s going to dress like trash, then she’s going to get treated like trash.”

Blaming a woman's clothing choices for her professional failure is simply a strategy for selectively discounting women without being called on your sexism. All you have to do is project your biases on to "her choices," and you can discriminate away.

This becomes clear when the Rodent gets specific about what aspects of a woman's appearance are unacceptable. Interestingly, several of the Rodent's tips are not specific to female lawyers. "A tattoo that shows is NEVER appropriate when you are a female attorney," the Rodent writes—as if face tattoos are generally accepted among lady litigators' male co-workers. The Rodent then offers up a weak defense for focusing on lady ink—women sag. "I promise you that once you are a woman of a certain age, your skin will lose elasticity, and that cute Asian saying . . . simply won’t look good when it’s sagging."

Many of the Rodent's recommendations are inconsistent. According to the Rodent, "Frumpy is the opposite end of the spectrum, and I see a lot of that these days, too. Looking like an unmade bed—wrinkled clothes, no makeup, dirty hair—doesn’t inspire much confidence either." Apparently, femininity-enhancing attire like heels are unacceptable, but makeup is required. The anonymous ranter also points to Condoleezza Rice as an acceptable style icon, even though Rice hardly shied away from figure-hugging, sexy-heeled outfits in her tenure as Secretary of State.

The lesson we can learn from this is that the standards regulating female appearance are largely arbitrary, and are designed that way to keep the door open for criticism. Men may either be labeled "sloppy" or "professional," but women must also navigate between being "frumpy," "professional," and "overly attractive." And since the "too sexy" meter can often be set off by simply looking like a woman, not dressing like one—having breasts, hips, legs, and a waist—hitting the right note can be a lot more difficult than learning to knot a neck-tie.

Feminist Law Professors' Bridget Crawford concurs with the Rodent on some points:

I myself am on record against visible toes in the office, so I am inclined to agree with the Rodent on this topic. . . . Displays of exaggerated female sexuality (cleavage, heels, etc.) are tools that some women attempt to use to their benefit. Kathleen Bergin explains this in her article Sexualized Advocacy and the Ascendant Feminist Backlash Against Female Lawyers . . . the Rodent reminds us that the same tools can be used against women, too.

I agree that this double standard—be attractive, but not too sexy—is used against women in the workplace. But I disagree with the Rodent's conclusion that the solution to workplace sexism is for women to modify their behavior by buttoning up and trashing the sandals. Apparently, no matter what a lady lawyer wears, there will be some vermin waiting on the sidelines to tell her it's not appropriate.

Photo by markusram, Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0

Yesterday, City Lights Editor Mike Riggs revealed that he dressed as "Trailer Trash Zombie" for Halloween this year, a costume he claimed was “not even a little bit" sexy—“unless short denim shorts, suspenders, a camo ball cap, a black sabbath tee with no sleeves, and really upsetting face paint is your idea of sexy.” Now, we have the photo evidence to judge for ourselves. Is Trailer Park Zombie sexy? Is it just offensive? Or is it one of the rare offensively sexy costumes?

Keep this tidbit in mind, courtesy of Riggs: "also, the shorts progressively shortened through the night as I (a) ripped pieces of them off and (b) pulled them up over my gut."

While men-sized revelers will be sporting sweet skeleton costumes like this come Halloween, looks like I'll have to settle for an uncomfortable and oddly sexual costume that CUTS OFF ALL MY SKELETAL LIMBS. Above we have "Sexy Skelly," a stretchy skeleton minidress which turns the pelvis and ribs into erotic suggestions of nearby organs. Sexy Pebbles hair accessory not included.

This skintight ladies skeleton, below, isn't so bad—the hoddie turns into a sweet skull mask, and at least I get pants! (Okay, leggings). Did you know that even girls bones are pink? That's how different girls are from boys!

This next one is my personal favorite: A women's skeleton costume that lights up with the flick of a switch. Unfortunately, it comes attached to a caped tube top.

The "Light Up Sexy Skeleton" costume comes compete with cape, scythe, and batteries, but suggests that the wearer fine one crucial accessory on her own: "This sexy Grim Reaper always gets her man."

To Wikipedia, Native Americans are "indigenous peoples from North America [that] comprise a large number of distinct tribes, states, and ethnic groups, many of which survive as intact political communities." To the Halloween industry, Native Americans are super sexy! (As long as we're talking about large-breasted, thin white women dressing up as Native Americans, and not real Native Americans).

CostumeSupercenter.com devotes an entire category of sexy costume to "Indians." Above we have the "Tribal Tease Adult Costume"—already out-of-stock! Luckily, accompanying costume accessory "Black Sqaw Wig Adult" is still available. Did you know that "squaw" is a term widely considered demeaning to Native American women? Buy yours today.

We also have the "Woman's Sexy Pocahottie" Costume":

In case "Pocahottie" wasn't enough to convince you that this is a sexually arousing take on a historically persecuted indigenous group, the "Sexy" qualifier is there to hammer the racist eroticism into the ground. Next up, the "Indian Babe Adult Costume":

Is that a belly ring I see in there? Hot! Up next is my personal favorite: the "Adult Sexy Indian Dream Catcher Costume."

It comes with a vagina flap! And finally, we have the "Adult 2 Piece Sassy Native American Costume":

Ouch: "Sassy." What makes this Native American "sassy" instead of "sexy"? Is it the stiletto boots? No, Sexy Pocahottie is wearing those, too. Is it the hands-on-hips pose? Nope, Indian Babe has got it going on as well. Could it be that a company marketing sexualized tribal costumes to white women couldn't help but slip in a racially charged term? I'm betting yes!

PREVIOUSLY: Worst Sexy Halloween Costumes: The Flasher

THE FLASHER:

The Flasher costume, on-sale at ZoogerCostumes.com for the low price of $32.99, features a "male-themed flesh-colored jumpsuit with attached black overcoat." "Male-themed" is an interesting euphemism for "dick the size of my arm," so kudos for that, Zooger Costumes!

Which of the following characteristics can we assume about the guy who actually wears this costume to your Halloween party:

a) He wasn't invited

b) He actually wears those loafers with those socks

c) Even after several dozen surprise revelations of his hilariously gigantic stuffed phallus, he will still think it's hilarious

d) He'll start rubbing the fake penis against all the girls at the party in about 5 seconds

e) He's always gotten off on the idea of flashing strangers, but has always been self-conscious about size

e) He has a real erection under his fake erection

When I first learned of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals' new "Save the Sea Kittens" ad campaign, I was confused—and not because re-branding one species of animal (fish) as another (kittens) doesn't make any fucking sense. No, I was confused because PETA's campaign just doesn't seem overtly sexist enough! There are no Playboy models, lettuce bikinis, or shrink-wrapped naked ladies to objectify in this campaign—just some cute fish you can dress up in costumes in an attempt to humanize them.

I know. I was suspicious, too.

Thankfully, PETA supporters accustomed to sneaking a bit of lasciviousness into their animal rights advocacy can dress their cute fish in a variety of super sexy fish costumes. Ta-da:

This is my sexy sea-kitten, complete with string bikini, pageant tiara, fetish-y cat whiskers, and porno lips.

Your BDSM sea kitten can sport a pink studded collar, or opt for a more traditionally sexy ruffled tube top. The truly kinky sea-kitten, though, ties on a bonnet.

On the accessories side, choose from bloated sex-doll lips or a tray of kitty litter (if your sexy fish is into the whole scat thing).

Umm . . . for the sea-kitten into furries?

Of course, as we've seen from PETA's other sexy ad campaigns, dressing up your spokesmodels in sexy outfits actually tends to dehumanize them instead of the other way around. Oh, well. At least it keeps dudes interested.

Two weeks ago, William Grimes called his wife, Erin. He was in Birmingham, Alabama with their two young children. Erin had moved to D.C., lured by the prospect of steady work in door-to-door magazine sales that would provide a decent hourly wage, free hotel and travel. "I was calling her and she was saying that she loved me, that she missed me," Grimes,27, recalls. She promised that he could get a job with the same company.

At 11 a.m., Grimes arrived in the District via a 16-hour Greyhound bus ride. He sat on his luggage—a small carry-on and a camo-patterned backpack—outside the 1st Street NE station. His new sales boss would be picking him up in an hour and a half. Grimes says his wife doesn't know he's here. This morning, he sent a dozen roses to her hotel room anonymously. 

"I'm going to wrap my arms around her and give her a big kiss," Grimes says of his imminent reunion.  

Grimes and his 21-year-old wife have been married for seven and a half years. "She's been my heart all my life," he says. But for much of their marriage, they had to get used to living far apart. Grimes did a more than five year stint in the National Guard and the Army as a weapons specialist. He did tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. For this job, he had to leave their two kids with his parents. "I know that sounds kind of bad," he says. "But money goes everywhere. I had to go with the money. My dad understood."

In three weeks, the sales company will send them to San Francisco. He's already more than satisfied with his first minutes in D.C. even if those minutes were spent outside the Greyhound. He declares that D.C. is "sexy." Tonight, he hopes to take his wife out for a few beers, maybe a meal. And then who knows. He lists the prospects for sex as "very good. Very, very good."

*Text by Jason Cherkis

When the American Library Association's annual conference kicked off in Chicago last Thursday, some attendees wanted the world to know that librarian get-togethers aren't all about shushing and stacking: There's a lot of fucking, too.

The nearly week-long librarian meet-up, which began July 9, delivers "over 300 educational programs" to professional bibliophiles each year—including workshops like "Collection Development: Decision Making With Data" and "When Is Nice Too Nice? Strategies For Disengaging From the Talkative Patron." Some attendees, however, haven't been entirely satisfied with the ALA programming. So they launched a "secret" Twitter account for librarians to share more intriguing professional insights. A typical anonymous ALA tweet:

Some librarians are exhausted by the conference's material ("I have reached the point of the conference where I no longer give a damn about anything anyone is saying any more.") Others are inspired by a perceived lack of cultural acceptance for a librarian's sex life ("I am an adult. I am a librarian. I enjoy good sex. Including at this conference. What is the problem?"). Most of them, for whatever reason, are talking about fucking—that's the "sexy" part. Not everyone is happy about it. That's where "stern" comes in.

According to the librarian-blogger at not all bits, ALA's first anonymous Twitter free-for-all, @alasecrets, was accessible via a username and password circulated among conference-goers. Less than two days into the festivities, however, the account was shut down by a fellow librarian. Writes not all bits:

Well, it saddens me that a member of the library profession took exception to @alasecrets and shut it down by logging in and changing the password. They protected the updates thereafter so, supposedly, people couldn’t see them.

You’re going to have to pardon my language here but FUCK that. I despise censorship in any form and I especially loathe the idea that a librarian shut down that Twitter account. So I did something about it.

The sexy librarian gossip site has now been re-born in the form of @ALASecrets2009—and re-illustrated with an icon of a Naughty Librarian Halloween costume (pictured). Conference attendees can now only post to the new feed by e-mail, meaning that fun-hating librarians can't tinker with the account details to quiet the masses. For the less horny librarian, the #ala2009 hash tag still offers up plenty of non-sexual ALA chat fare.

The first go-around of librarian fucking Tweets has now been "protected" from the public. Below, the ten sexiest nerd tweets from the feed's second incarnation:

TEN:

NINE:

EIGHT:

SEVEN:

SIX:

FIVE—THREE:

TWO:

ONE:

UPDATE: The American Library Association annual conference will be held in Washington, D.C. next year. Yesss.

UPDATE 2: Some sexy preservationists have uncovered the lost secret tweets!

But as a consumer of nipple shots, such versatility can become confusing. It's often difficult to know the socially acceptable reaction to every stray projection of skin that catches your eye. Should you high-five your buddy or vomit discreetly into your hands? I'm here to help.

Taking a page from our friends at the Huffington Post, I've compiled some photos of famously exposed nipples—complete with "NSFW Zoom" (Not Janet Jackson, she's too obvious). First, review the Guidelines For Socially Acceptable Reactions to Nipples. Then, check out some Famously Exposed Nipples (NSFW-Zoomed into focus) and see if your gut response to each biological structure is in line with society's nipple norms.

Guidelines For Socially Acceptable Reactions to Nipples:

* All of a woman's breast revealed except for the nipple, which may be obscured by clothing, hair, or paint: sexy.

* All of a woman's breast revealed including the nipple: sexy; obscene.

* Renaissance-era artistic rendering of a woman's breast including the nipple: art.

* All of a man's chest revealed including the nipple: null. Unlike female nipples, which are either HOT or TOTALLY GROSS, male nipples are just there.

* All of a woman's breast revealed including the nipple while breastfeeding: not sexy; not obscene; to some, however, still totally fucking gross, far more disgusting than a normal female nipple, whose only reproductive function ought to be arousing you on-sight (Note: it is not yet socially acceptable to take photos of women breastfeeding in public in order to engineer "gotcha" nipple slip headlines).

* All of a woman's breast including the nipple, which the woman inadvertently flashes for the camera (also known as a "nipple slip"): sexy; obscene; still, manages to maintain the relative innocence of the woman who has inadvertently revealed the nipple, making the it that much sexier; unless of course it is Pamela Anderson's nipple, in which case the nipple slip is simply very obscene and not sexy at all, because Pam Anderson is agreed to be too slutty to pull off the treasured nipple slip dynamic.

—

Famously Exposed Nipples:

A. B.

C. D.

E. F.

G. H.

—

Socially Acceptable Reactions to These Nipples, Revealed:

A. Natalie Portman's nipple slip: sexier. SUITABLE REACTION: High-five.

B. Pamela Anderson's nipple slip: obscene; not sexy. SUITABLE REACTION: Vomit discreetly into hands.

C. Lindsay Lohan's nipple, obscured by hair: sexy. SUITABLE REACTION: Retweet.

D. Ian McKellen's nipple (male): null. SUITABLE REACTION: Curse your "celebrity nipple" google search for leading you astray.

E. Lady Gaga's nipple: sexy; obscene. SUITABLE REACTION: High-five.

F. Beyonce's nipple slip: sexier. SUITABLE REACTION: High-five.

G. A Real Housewife's nipple slip, obscured by clothing: sexy. SUITABLE REACTION: High-five.

H. Mona Lisa's nipple (rumored): art. SUITABLE REACTION: Scratch chin.

Last November, I outlined some advice for well-meaning sexists on How Not to Advise Women Not to Get Raped. The post was in response to a guy named Aaron P. Taylor, who, in response to getting shut down by a female in da club, penned a manifesto entitled "Advice 4 Women: How to NOT Get a ‘Deserved Raping.’" The essay warned women against behaviors that indicate that she really "wants it"—even when her actual words (in the case of Taylor's target, "Naaaaaaah!") indicate that she actually does not want to have sex!

These behaviors include:

* flirting

* dancing (repeatedly)

* putting your face close to a man's face

* kissing

* wearing a shirt that "shows just about everything but her nipples, then have a 30-minute conversation with a guy about how voluptuous and sensitive her breasts are, then spend half the night stroking her hand against the outer-lining of said breasts." (It happens).

* anything else that gives a man a boner

Obviously, this argument—that women shouldn't do certain things unless they're down to fuck—is based entirely on a man's expectations, and his own preferred end to every female interaction (sex). In reality, women aren't soley interacting with men in order to eventually cause him to orgasm. And just because a behavior is "sexy" doesn't make it "suggestive." Most of the time, a dance is just a dance. A shirt is just a shirt. Putting your face close to a man's face is just putting your face close to a man's face. And a man getting a boner from any of that is his personal problem. Even if a woman is grinding her ass on your pelvis, all she's suggesting is that—shocker!—she wants to grind her ass on your pelvis. Really, the only way a woman can actually suggest she wants to have sex with you is by saying, "I want to have sex with you!" It's that easy.

One response to Taylor's essay that hasn't been raised, however, is how fucking shitty life would be for everybody if "dancing" really meant "fucking." Taylor's worldview offers one big problem for guys like Taylor: If women flirted, danced, wore revealing clothing, or did anything else that men happened to find arousing only in direct preparation for sex, da club would be a very lonely place. Under this model:

* A woman would never look at a man, lest he expect her to speak to him.

* A woman would never speak to a man, lest he expect her to flirt with him.

* A woman would never flirt with a man, lest he expect her to dance with him.

* A woman would never dance with a man, lest he expect her to kiss him.

* A woman would never kiss a man, lest he expect her to fuck him.

* A woman would never fuck a man, lest he expect the right to fuck her any time he wants, in any way he wants, in any orifice, whether she likes it or not.

In other words, women would never, ever, ever go to da club, lest a man chose to administer her a "deserved raping" for showing up. Don't you see, Aaron P. Taylor? It's a prison of your own design! Taylor is not just advising women how "not to get a deserved raping." He's also advising women how to make Aaron P. Taylor's life a living hell. Which is, actually, the only reason women might want to refrain from doing whatever the fuck they want to do on the dance floor.

Photo by Yoshimai

Pressler took her cue from a Wall Street Journal piece recapping the meeting, which she described simply as "Sexy." WSJ reported the intimate details of the meeting. "The president and his successor exchanged smiles and a handshake," and then, "[t]aking a bit of prerogative, the president-elect put his left hand on Mr. Bush's back as the two couples entered the Diplomatic Reception Room." Later, 43 and 44 "strolled along the Colonnade and waved for the cameras" before retiring to the Oval Office. Bush Chief of Staff Josh Bolten assured reporters that "Bush and Obama will be the only ones in the room when they meet."

Are you listening, Hustler?

One late October evening somewhere in the 1980's, in the time before children, a friend of my parents traveled from Clintonville, Wi. to Madison to attend the city's Halloween block party. The friend, though, had trekked sans-costume. So they did what any noble crew of young professionals would do: They dressed him in snug overalls, dyed his exposed skin with green food coloring, and tied him up in a mass of uprooted garden vegetables. The costume contained three main organic components: An artichoke crown, a pair of beet testicles, and a large carrot phallus. They dubbed him "Plant Man."

This is the right way to do the scantily-clad Halloween costume: Innovative, messy, edging toward the pathetic. Sadly, Plant Man and his brethren have been eclipsed in recent years by a far sadder costuming tradition: The Sexy [Whatever].

Sure, it may be easier for men to just strap on some home-grown goods, don themselves Vegetable Dude, and manage to come away from the evening without sacrificing their attractiveness to interested parties. Still, ladies: Heed the lessons of Plant Man. The sexy nurse, cheerleader, or leprechaun (now available in wee sizes, too) are mere distractions to the far sexier costume:

The huge phallic object.

Trust me: Dudes love this. In recent years, I've had three female friends go this route, and all were smashing successes. One, a huge, yellow banana, was hounded at a New York City house party by a dude who desperately wanted to slip on her peel, if you know what I mean. Another, a homemade foam strip of bacon, got a string of high-fives from the passengers of a city bus. The sexy hot dog, perhaps the most obvious of the phallic imagery, glued a bra and panties on her body-obscuring foam costume for good measure.

So for any woman thinking about reaching for that last sexy inmate costume on the shelf: Hold out for something that looks more like a penis. You will not be disappointed.

Photo by Brettf