a stroll on the beach

by Parker Dupris

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I’ve been spending a lot of time on the beach lately, in various locations around the Mediterranean. My morning commute to work usually consists of a walk from the studio I’m renting along the beach, across some sand to a local beachwear or cafe with wifi. I can do this barefoot, and I have to tell you its an amazing way to commute to work.

Now and then I take a break, either going for a dip or just taking a stroll up and down the sand. I might be getting older, but I’m noticing a great deal more of a particular thing here on the the beaches.

Is there a classier term for “camel toe?”

There might be, but in my 3 minutes of research I couldn’t find one. It’s not a common term or reference in my work or social circles and I don’t watch a lot of MTV, so I’m at a loss for an alternate term. I did however find this Wikipedia entry.

I’ve noticed quite a bit of camel toe lately, on young women and mature women. At first I wasn’t looking for it – I don’t usually spend my moments of walking idyllic beaches staring at the bikini-clad crotches of women I’m sharing public space with – but once I made my little discovery, I have to admit I became a hunter, seeking out the experience, albeit covertly. And it took no effort to be quite the successful hunter of free-sunning camel toe on the beaches of the Med.

More commonly I see it among women who are wearing bikinis, and with those who might from a shallow outsider’s point of view be more willing to display themselves based on their shape and our current definitions of “attractive.”

Having known more than a few women intimately in my life and as someone who pays attention, I understand that there is rarely a single aspect of a woman’s appearance that she is not totally conscious of, concerned about, and meticulous over.

This makes for a delicious insight: sometimes in life, we have an opportunity to put it all out there in a mostly-acceptable kind of way. Maybe there’s no thought about the fact that the labia major are clearly outlined, that intimate and delicious counters are laid not-quite-bare for any passer-by to see.

As if she’s saying “Most of the time I must be proper, and I never have the chance to lay in the warm sun, spread my legs a little, and enjoy the occasional, momentary visual caress of my intimate folds by totally strangers. That would usually be out of the question, totally inappropriate, really, But I’m just laying here on the beach, getting some sun and enjoying the day.”

I’m sure there’s a word for this, too. A word describing this sort of duality, dichotomy, paradox. “I am doing this normally accepted thing, but at the same time I am almost wantonly displaying my sexuality in public in a serious way.”

Delicious, of course.

Asking a few lady friends brings a unanimous answer: “Oh yea, We totally know. And when we’re totally putting it all out there,” is the consensus. “It’s like, you usually don’t like the pervy kind of attention, except when you do, and if I’m showing camel toe the idea of someone seeing me like that, thinking dirty thoughts, that’s pretty hot.”

I love it.

A place and time where it is socially acceptable to give a bit of a wanton display, a play at exhibitionism and an invitation to voyeurism, and play it all off as innocent and innocuous.I am certainly all for the free expression of sexuality, and when it’s something we’re not supposed to talk about or point out, or reat to, that makes it that much more exquisite.

 

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