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Sex and the single girl

Is giving up sleeping with tossers really enough fodder for a book?

Hephizbah Anderson decided to become celibate for a year and get paid to write about it.

Nice work if you can get it, say I. Wish I'd thought of it when I was 19 - it would've been dead easy. 

Anderson is clearly what some would think of a free-wheelin' modern gal and what others might term the 'town bike' - pretending to be ashamed of her high tally of partners while secretly bragging about it.

However, it doesn't look to me like she was getting much fulfillment from her endless casual encounters so what's the big deal about giving them up? It's like giving up a hangover.

Few women, it seems to me, get much out of casual sexual encounters with men. Most men are fairly rubbish in bed until you've taught them what you want, and that takes a time or two. A quick shag after three bottles of wine and a pizza with someone whose surname you don't know doesn't really cut much mustard for most of us - sex it may be, good sex it isn't. 

Anderson's attitude to sex before her chastity conversion frankly seems a tad desperate: "At a certain point in certain scenarios, a part of me abdicated and gave in to the inevitable..." This does not strike me as the lookout of a well-adjusted, confident woman - more that of someone who needs to get laid in order to feel good about herself. This is never a wise choice for anyone. Has she never heard of oxytocin? Or counselling, for that matter. She's 30, for God's sake, not a teenager.

Whether this is all worth writing about is a separate issue. Clearly, her sex life is important to her, but I can't see what interest it is to anybody else, unless she feels that she's some sort of paradigm.

Our society is hyper-sexualised, she says. Well, er, no it isn't. It rather depends which circles you move in. Partying with rock guitarists (pony tails and all) then yes, maybe. Bundled up in a field shelter counting the lesser-spotting greenfinch, not so much. I find it rather depressing that she admits her entire wardrobe is designed solely to attract sexual partners, for instance - doesn't she ever DO anything? You know, like WORK?

Anderson seems to me like these narcissists who drink like fish or stick needles in their arms every five minutes and then insist that everyone else is doing it too, or secretly wanting to. Well, no we're not, actually - some of us get through our lives drinking a modest amount, smoking the odd joint when we're teenagers and having sex chiefly with people we love, or at least like and respect, and who like and respect us right back. But I guess there's not a book in that, is there? 

Anyway, read it if you must, but I found myself agreeing more with several of the commentators than with the author.  Get a life, love.


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