The Women's Stories

Age: 18

Going for what I wrongly imagined would be a leisurely stroll along the beach with Tom, my then boyfriend; it presented as an unexpected detour when I was steered ‘casually’ into an innocuous little art gallery under the arches alongside Brighton Pier. Simultaneously, I was introduced both to Jamie and to the prospect of having my vagina (cunt/fanny/front bottom/lady garden/whichever you’d prefer) immortalised by this complete stranger.

My boyfriend and I had previously chatted jokingly about the idea when he mentioned it to me earlier in the week, so it wasn’t a complete surprise when I arrived in Jamie’s ‘studio’. I wouldn’t say I’d ever had a ‘close’ connection with my cunt, however I tried to ignore it as much as possible (my cunt and our non-existent friendship), because I couldn’t imagine that changing. For starters, it didn’t look like I thought good, proper, front bottoms should look- my inner lips were longer than the average porn stars’, my clitoris nestled lower than most judging by the photos I’d perused in google images…the little list of problems ended there, but these two issues  were enough to deny any prospective man the pleasure of getting his face between my legs.

My ex-boyfriend clearly took the matter of my aversion more seriously than I, and so it was I found myself naked from the waist down, on a wooden (albeit reasonably comfortable) table, surrounded by plaster casted rude bits, with a perfect stranger in blue ‘dentists’ gloves dolloping large quantities of blue goo onto my most private area. And honestly, I absolutely loved it. A glass of wine in hand, I relaxed into the absurdity of the situation, and chatted easily with Jamie and Tom about the ‘Design a Vagina’ project, about his background in sculpting and more. The splendid array of fanny in literally all shapes and sizes was a fascinating view for someone like me, who, disregarding one experimental (and drunken) fumbled experience with a girl, hadn’t seen a ‘real life vagina’ other than my own since bathing with my sisters aged seven. I learnt with relief that my labia in fact weren’t anything special or unordinary, and on a level beyond vanity, I understood that it didn’t matter anyway.

To properly appreciate the effect the ‘Design a Vagina’ experience had on me, I have to look back on how I perceived my cunt before it joined the hundreds of others on display. It’s hard to conceive that I ever felt such a strong dislike for its appearance (especially when I loved it so frequently in bed at night). A trip to see Jamie McCartney later and my feelings are revolutionised.

I completely recommended the experience to anyone I judged to be open enough to do it too (which sadly only included my housemate- what is wrong with you women!?), and thank Jamie lots (Thank You Jamie!) for making it possible with his clever hands, hard work and ridiculous but brilliant idea J.