Arts Belle of The Ball
Remember Belle de Jour, the anonymous London call girl whose blog and subsequent book created such a stir a while back? The pinnacle of her blog fame has passed, but she’s still around, and she still has a knack for neatly summarizing aspects of a sex worker’s existence.
“… there is also the problem of envy. No one has ever (to my knowledge) called me a sexpert. Which is baffling. I’ve had sex with a statistically measurable proportion of humanity that even includes an error margin. And I daresay I’ve learned a thing or two about sex meanwhile. But this is not good enough for the world of sexpertdom. I think I know why.
It’s about clothing. If you have sex, then later, with your clothes on, take money for talking about the sex you had, this qualifies you as a sexpert. If, on the other hand, you have sex and take money for the sex itself, this does not. To sum up: taking money with your clothes on, sexpert. With your clothes off, not. So basically sexperts are reporters about sex, rather than sex professionals. Or something.”
I understand how she feels, because no one’s ever called me a sexpert, either.
Ring Ring!
You're a sexpert!
Click.