by ALLI GRANT
There’s change in the wind. I can feel it. Women the country over and putting down their Fifty Shades novels quicker than you can say “honey, please pass me my whip and handcuffs”, grabbing their handbags, popping on their killer heels and heading out the door to their nearest cinema (with girlfriends in tow).
That’s right; Magic Mike is in cinemas now. One giant serving of killer abs with a side of bulging biceps, coming right up! Gulp.
But will eye candy take up where word candy left off? Will women be replacing their daily fix of Christian Grey and his naughty naughtiness with a giant dollop of Matthew, Channing and their hunky male stripping posse?
Got me thinking, as I do, what if Mystical Monica was showing in cinemas, instead of Magic Mike? What if Megan Fox, Jessica Alba and a bevy of buxom beauties were flashing their boobs and butts, as opposed to their abs and biceps? What if this “must-see” movie was about a group of female strippers instead of male strippers? (Insert thinking music …)
How would you feel if your husband announced that he was off to the movies with his mates to see Mystical Monica get her gear off? Would you go, “Sure, sweet, have fun, say hi to Stevo, and don’t forget to treat yourself to a super-sized popcorn”?
Some women would definitely be a-okay about it, women who are clearly far more secure than I (power to you, ladies). Call me a prude, but I’m not mad about the idea of my bloke ogling a stack of hot, naked (or even partly naked) chicks – especially chicks who can rock a g-string (not hard to look better than me in a g-string, truth be told … a sack of potatoes would ooze more sex appeal in frilly knickers).
I don’t like the idea of my husband going to strip clubs (although I know he has been and probably will go again – bloody buck’s nights). I know men are visual creatures and all that – they do pictures more than words. I know that many of you would probably label me as pathetic and insecure and a prude (I could well be all three, and often wish I wasn’t), but I also know I’m not alone.
In fact, I know a stack of lovely ladies who would have some rather large “issues” with their blokes heading out the door to watch “soft porn” with their mates (Richard Wilkins’ description of Magic Mike from his Today review). These are probably the same women who don’t dig their dudes hanging out at sleazy strip joints either.
This is where I get a little confused. Generally (and yes, I am talking generally as I know a lot of women don’t feel like I do), women don’t encourage their men to read titty mags, slip $5 notes down the front of a stripper’s EE cup bra or watch porn (well, alone anyway). Generally. Are we looking down the barrel of a double standard here? Would we encourage our boys to enjoy a night with Mystical Monica? Probably not (again, in general).