Our Bodies, Our Press Materials (Part 1)

My flight landed an hour early. The gorgeous, wonderful man picking me up was running on time, which meant that I had a good 45 minutes to kill at the airport. When this happens I sometimes tweet that it’s q&a time. Some of the questions are really just compliments, some are queries as to when I’ll have a new movie out or what month my Penthouse spread was in, some are unintelligible or vaguely insulting, and some are really, really good but require more than 140 characters to answer. One of the last sort involved how I feel about my body, and what I would choose to change about it if I could change things. I’ve seen this pretty frequently since I started working in the naked lady business, along with questions about what I eat, what my workout regimen is, if I feel pressure to get plastic surgery or not, declarations of thanks for having what is perceived as a non-standard body type in the porn industry (the “standard” adult performer body is a whole tangent for another day.) These questions come almost exclusively from women.

This shouldn’t be surprising, because I do put my body out there for public viewing and body image issues permeate our culture. There are constant discussions calling for laws against runway models being under a certain weight, entire television shows devoted to the morbidly obese, fad diets endorsed by physicians, and jokes about women asking if a dress makes them look fat. The ubiquitousness of Facebook and other social networking sites drives some people to photoshop their profile pictures in the interests of putting their best foot forward. Tumblr recently felt moved to ban blogs dedicated to glorifying things like cutting and eating disorders. About a week after my first nude photoset went live on, I got a message on myspace from an emaciated looking girl telling me that I was her thinspiration. 

So let’s talk about my body: I’ve always been active. I took a lot of dance lessons as a child and planned on trying to dance professionally. I lucked out genetically and have the right frame for it. Shortly after I blew out some important parts of my lower body (metatarsal bones… knees…) I gave up on being a ballerina and moved to an east coast city where people walk everywhere, where stairs are the only option half the time. I still constantly fidgeted, climbed stuff, took recreational classes in low-impact things like belly dancing, and picked up extra cash as a gogo dancer in nightclubs. Once I found a place to train, I started taking aerial acrobatics. I see my body as a pile of meat and bones that carries my brain around and lets me do some really cool stuff. All of the really cool stuff listed in this paragraph happens to burn a lot of calories.

Doing things that burn a lot of calories means you need to eat a lot of calories. Brains need fat in order to function properly. Fat is what breasts and squeezable butts are made out of. I eat vegetables out of habit and because they do some vague healthy things for the digestive tract. I also eat cheeseburgers, milkshakes, pizza, fried food, and have a bizarre life-long obsession with Cheez-It crackers dipped in suburban-grocery-store-spreadable-fancy-cheese. Goldfish will do in a pinch but just aren’t the same. Fun Fact: I am absolutely horrified by mayonnaise. Food is really important. Sometimes I get busy during a weekend of appearances and forget to eat all day. I get really irritable and bitchy. The fuse on my temper gets shorter. My brain gets fuzzy, it takes a few seconds to find the right word for something or I can’t locate my wallet when it’s sitting right in front of me. Then I have to make up for the missed meals by downing two containers of ice cream in a single sitting (insert “My life is so tragic” sarcasm here). I have to make up for it so I can think properly, and because bony is not sexy. It is my job to be sexy. Also, if my breasts get any smaller my fancy lingerie is going to stop fitting properly and replacing the bra collection would be a monumental task.

On to the subject of my body being necessary for my job: Digital Playground, the company that I perform in adult films for, gets upset with me if I show up for a movie looking too thin. They like to make money, so their concern that I keep a certain amount of body fat implies that skinny is not mass-marketable in a sex symbol kind of way. When Digital puts my images through the photoshop glamour machine, they bump me up a half-cup size or more and add thickness to my hips. They take out the occasional ingrown hair or pimple, which is really awesome. Male fans of porn say nice things about my ass, or my personality. I don’t look at what they say on message boards anymore. To my face they say they appreciate the way I smile when I’m being pounded, but as far as I know no one has ever said that they fap to my ribcage.

"No one has ever said that they fap to my ribcage." seems like a fantastic line to end on for now.

  1. vividdreams22 reblogged this from stoya and added:
    I Love You Stoya
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  5. echogenicity reblogged this from stoya and added:
    I also find mayonnaise absolutely horrifying.
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  9. manticoreimaginary reblogged this from stoya and added:
    this you should read part 2...Stoya’s own personal...body...