First Things First
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First Things First
from the Things Men Have Said To Me Instead Of Hello collection
Acrylic paint, rhinestones, glitter, a vintage brooch, and acrylic resin on vintage canvas, framed in gilded and lacquered wood.
Things Men Have Said To Me Instead Of Hello
I go into detail about what this collection is all about on the collection overview page, but if you haven’t seen that you can read the description in the accordion below - click the + sign.
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If you have spent any time in my company over the last six to eight months, you will have heard me talk about my latest collection, Things Men Have Said To Me Instead Of Hello.
The collection comprises 10 pieces inspired by things actual men said to me instead of hello during a period of online dating in my mid-thirties. I took screenshots of the most heinous, graphic, and creepy openers and, although at the time I wasn’t sure what I was saving them for, the idea for this collection arrived a few years later.
The purpose of bringing these ‘greetings’ (if you can call them that) into the light is not to demonise men, and paint them as predatory monsters in contrast to the delicate saintliness of women eyeroll. It’s to open the floor for discussions about the patriarchal waters we are all swimming in, perpetuate, and, to a greater or lesser degree, are complicit in.
I want to provoke discussions about rape culture, the male gaze, beauty standards etc etc, and explore all the ways in which we all benefit or are hindered by the status quo. Most importantly, I want you to join me in the horrified realisation of how NORMAL we’ve made all of these things.
When I’ve told people about this collection, the responses from women and men are vastly different. The women know immediately what I’m referring to, and usually respond with some related (horror) story, delivered in the blasé manner of someone who has been dealing with this shit her whole life (because she has).
The men on the other hand, range from absolutely horrified, to knowing stuff like this happens but only in an abstract kinda way, to (on one memorable occasion) asking me if any of the ‘Men’ I’m referring to have ever mentioned my “great tits” - I kid you not.
I’m not going to go into all of the ways that the patriarchy is a problem for men as much as it is a problem for women (and I’m aware that I’m leaning into the gender binary here for simplicity’s sake, but really it’s a problem for ALL of us), but suffice to say that we can’t make things better unless we can see, identify, and name the problem.
This collection is my contribution to bringing these open secrets into the light.
First Things First
At first glance you’ll probably miss the wording on this piece, and then a twinkle from under the tail of the cat might catch your eye. You lean closer, your nose almost touching the vintage brooch adorning the centre of the canvas, and then all of a sudden the light catches the rhinestones and the red-on-red letters sparkle into view:
Do you like butt stuff?
Now, don’t get me wrong - I’m no prude and I firmly believe that this is a necessary question. We should all feel comfortable to ask and answer questions like this about our sexual preferences and kinks with the person we’re intending to be intimate with. I don’t even have a problem with sexting with strangers - with or without any intention of meeting them in person.
My issue is not with the question itself, my issue is with the timing of the question. Because once again, my loves, this question was asked before any acknowledgement of my humanity, or even of me at all, beyond what I like stuffed in what hole.
The real concern here is one of consent. And by that I don’t just mean saying yes or no to specific acts, I’m talking about creating a framework where each individual in an interaction like this is recognised as a person worthy of basic respect and agency before we even think about getting to the bedroom.
Similarly to The Void, I wanted the lettering to be quite obscure, coercing you into an uncomfortably close relationship with the piece, and mimicking the way this question forces an intimacy that hasn’t been earned or invited. In this instance the tiny lettering is made of red rhinestones on a red background, only truly visible if the light catches it the right way.
The central figure of the painting, though, is a cat: notorious for their shameless flashing of bumholes. She stands with her back to the viewer, presenting exactly what has been requested, but entirely on her own terms. There’s nothing submissive about her stance, in fact it’s bold, unapologetic, almost confrontational. She’s a delicious kaleidoscope of colour, texture, and sparkle - this is a creature who couldn’t give less of a shit what you want. She’s busy doing her own thing.
As she looks back at the viewer over her shoulder, her face tells a similar story. Her eyes, delineated with rhinestones, meet your gaze unflinchingly, and her expression is part challenge, part amusement, part vague exasperation. I feel like she’s caught mid-stride, and in a moment she’ll just roll her eyes and go back to her very important cat business.
And then we have the pièce de résistance - the body part that has caused all of this fascination, desire, and disregard of boundaries: the sparkliest, silveriest, most fabulous anus you’ve ever seen.
This is the ultimate reclamation - taking something crudely referenced and making it into something precious and celebratory. In a way, it’s a symbol of this entire collection.
Finally, of course, we have another example of a heavy, gilded and lacquered frame - which, as it does throughout this collection, serves to show how we elevate and venerate the words of men, regardless of what those words are.
See the rest of the pieces in this collection below.
