Sex and the community

Sex tapes, nudes, cybersex — all things in which many of us have engaged, or at least been asked to. Maybe you’re in a long-term relationship and you miss each other. Maybe you realized your porn habits are unethical and you’d rather look at something real. Maybe your situationship is actually incredible at giving head and you want a memento of the experience.

As diligent digital natives, I’m sure everyone our age has been lectured about the safety of filming, photographing and texting about sex. Are sex tapes still taboo or are we trusting enough of one another to film our most intimate moments?

Woodstock’s, Wednesday night

I met my close girlfriend, Pollyanna, over a pitcher of IPA the other night. She recently got out of a serious relationship and, of course, the inevitable happened: a long and hearty gossip session about ex-boyfriends and their sexual pitfalls, new escapades and sex tapes.

I asked her if she’d ever made one and she gave me an apprehensive look, as if I were her strict mother. We’ve known each other since we were 14 and she clearly had some hesitancy about admitting that she had filmed one to me, first asking, “Have you?”

Once she finally fessed up, she said:

“I made one. Although it was fun in the moment, looking back on it I regret it because I don’t like the thought of someone having a video of me like that.”

Dargan’s, Thursday night

I was painfully sober and gripping the hand of one of my best friends, Grace, in the packed-as-always Dargan’s. I was giving my usual sermon about a serious deficit of hot guys while weaving through sweaty drunkards and having Guinness spilled down my back. My $20 go-go boots were giving me hell and the 30-minute wait to get in put me in a terrible mood.

My night was only saved by the ego boost I received from getting recognized for my satiric prowess, ironically, for the second time in Dargan’s. Some guy grabbed my arm and said, “Hey, you’re the sarcastic girl.” Yes, yes I am.

I spotted my male correspondent for this column, Hunter, sitting on a stool.

“This place sucks,” I said.

“Tell me about it.”

“Have you ever filmed a sex tape?”

Hunter has a somewhat elusive, yet presumably existent sex life.

“Yes, I have. But it’s kinda useless. Just have sex with them. If you’re sitting there gooning to it, you’re weird. If you break up, now it’s just blackmail.”

Validation Ale, Friday afternoon

Four drinks and zero meals into my Friday, I leaned over a bartop and probably talked about my ex-sneaky link’s curved-to-the-right dick way too loudly while children ran around my feet. My audience was my friend, Molly, with whom I had not drank with in around six months; we most definitely made up for lost time.

I made eye contact with the wisest woman I know, Daria, while she walked by the bar. Similar in sexual experiences to me, Daria is a couple of years my senior, a genius and my utmost mentor and inspiration. She and her friend, Kendall, were engaging in similar Funk Zone day-drinking fare.

In the name of research, I of course asked about their sex tape world view.

“You can’t trust someone like that — what if it’s distributed? If I want to be a government official, I can’t have that out there. No one benefits from sex tapes except for Kim K.”

LoDo Studios, Friday night

In a very “Sex and the City”-esque fashion, I shepherded Molly into her boyfriend’s car and took off to meet my partner in insanity, Sarah, at the Fashion Club’s fashion show. Sarah and I share similar interests: democracy, drinking to the point of passing out and older men.

We watched the — frankly, unoriginal — looks and applauded. I felt like the micro-celebrity that I aspire to be. After the 15th low-rise pants and distressed top look walked by, I leaned over and whispered.

“What do you think about sex tapes?”

I didn’t even need to ask if she’s made one.

“They’re sexy. You can be your own porn director and star. You can make what you like to watch on the screen more personal and intimate for yourself.”

Library smoking pits, Monday morning

So, what does Diana Paradise have to say about this? 

The most important meal of the day: scalding black coffee (as bitter as you can get it) and a Marlboro Red. Open laptop. Sex tapes on the mind. It seems that they might be going out of style. Revenge porn is clearly a concern of the Isla Vista community.

In my opinion, the problem with sex tapes isn’t the danger of them. It’s that they’re fundamentally unsexy. They’re always filmed at a precarious angle, you feel like you have to perform or act in some way that you wouldn’t if you weren’t being filmed and they’re usually made at a point in the relationship where you’re bored of the sex and want to try something new. The most passionate sex someone has ever had has never been on camera.

When I’m married, I’ll make a tasteful and artistic tape to watch when I’m old and wrinkly. For now, they’re not worth the angst.

Diana Paradise hates hearing herself moan.