Words by Alice White

Before writing this article I asked my boyfriend, “is it alright if I make reference to your massive dick in a Wood Rocket article?” and he said “OK, as long as it’s tastefully done”.

I was having lunch with my friend, let’s call him Josh (because that’s his name), and we were discussing the intricacies of my - then - new boyfriend, let’s call him, Glen (the name he gave himself after the pandemonium of him finding out I originally wrote his real name). “So Glen’s dick’s massive then? That’s a nice surprise” Josh says about Glen. “It is, it is nice” I reply. Glen had been a gentleman when we’d started dating so I’d only ever seen his erection through his jeans until like, the fourth date. Josh then shoe horns in some stuff about how big his own dick is, which I half ignore until he says “yeah, you better start doing kegels then.”

Excuse me?

I was shocked. As I’ve been fed ego boosters my entire life I am shocked at the idea that my vagina might not be the World’s only truly perfect work of art. Josh is a stand-up comedian, and if you spend any time with them then you know that they are only funny on stage, the rest of the time it’s back-handed digs and having a one-sided discussion about Nazis. So what was this? Was this a dig about my vagina? One he’s never actually seen? I stutter something about how that’s not how it works, because the stretchiness is the equivalent of a mouth, if you yawn your lips aren’t floppy forever. I get in how tightness and promiscuousness are only linked by people who want to oppress. I get in a few other pop-feminism classics but it was too late, it had already sent me into a paranoid fever. What if my vagina wasn’t perfect anymore?

I mean obviously it is. After all, what kind of woman, having slept with the amount of men I have, would open herself up to this kind of criticism publicly, right? It must be pretty good, right? I must have a load of confidence in it? Right? Right?... Right? Right? It has been a while since I got an unsolicited pussy compliment and that’s the only thing that’ll get me through this. I’m reminding myself how much I like them, how much I need them, but only if they’re done properly. There’ll be loads of women out there like me who’ll be paranoid for some reason or another - the economy, women’s magazines, their mother-in-law being snide after walking in on them taking off some leggings - so be nice to the girl you’re fucking today, set her free with these easy to follow tips:

Don’t say anything weird
This seems like a simple one, don’t compare it to things like meat or anything that’s cold or spiky. Don’t say things in code. Don’t try and be poetic unless you’re good enough to be paid to do poetry. Don’t talk about your family. Key words include “great” and “incredible”. Words to avoid: “slippery”, “like a brasserie”. Don’t make any reference to it being like the scar tissue of the Joker’s smile.

Don’t put on an accent
Like a Spanish one if you’re not Spanish. Or worst of all, don’t put a British one on if you are not British. Also, don’t do a baby voice ever. Sure, if you’re already at baby voice stage with your partner then you’re both going to get on with it, but I don’t like it, and I don’t like the idea that it’s happening out there. I sometimes do a baby voice but I can assure you it’s only for high-end creepy reasons, not some low hanging fruit reason like I want to be a sexy kid. Don’t do an impression either, if I want Christopher Walken to talk about how my Foof smells like peaches I’ll get Christopher Walken to say it.

Just say it’s tight
For fuck’s sake. It’s not like your own junk like where you can see what’s going on and you have to use choice words like “interesting” or “lilliputian” if you’re sizing is a bit off. We’re gonna presume that we’re all good until you tell us otherwise, and if you tell us otherwise, you’re probably gonna get dumped but we’ll tell our friends it’s because you shit yourself in Urban Outfitters.

Don’t lie and say it’s neat if it’s not
Don’t say it’s untidy, just don’t be a prick. Actually, this whole list could’ve been condensed to “don’t be a prick” but here we are. I know toxic masculinity is real, judging yourself on how many women you’ve bedded is a troublesome social issue but believe me that this is coming from a place where I think everyone should be banging everyone all the time - if you are shocked by the endless variables in the aesthetics of female genitalia you’ve not been with enough girls for me. That or it means you’re too closed-minded to change and are adaptable to nothing. Like when a guy freaks out about false eyelashes on the sink, that guy isn’t life experienced enough for me.

Actually give the compliments
Glen was pretty shocked when I confronted him (very risky of me, I know, but on the off chance he said something brutal, I find it very difficult to hear direct criticism if it hasn’t been generated inside myself), and was confused about why I’d want them. Why wouldn’t I? Most people respond to positive things well. I’m not one of those middle-aged men who post naked photos of myself on Twitter and ask people to rate my balls. If I think my lover wants to see it, I’m going to show it to him more, because I’m just old-fashioned like that.

Alice White is a badly behaved writer and ex-sex and dating columnist from Scotland. She has the accent and everything. And also really terrific hair. Follow her on Twitter at @alicewhitey for dick jokes and public eye rolling.