A Cultural History of Hips
There's no denying that the hips are one of the most fascinating and alluring parts of the human body. Whether we're admiring them in art, swaying them on the dancefloor, or shimmying them into a tight skirt, hips have long captivated our attention and imagination. But why? What is it about hips that makes them so powerful, so sensual, and so integral to our cultural identity? And why is our relationship to our own frequently so fraught and complex?
To answer that question, we need to investigate the cultural history of hips - tracing their significance through time, across cultures, and into the present day. And if we're going to take this journey together, it's only fitting that we get a little intimate along the way. So sit back, relax, and let's explore the eroticism and evolution of one of the most intriguing parts of the human form - and how I learned to love my own.
For as long as societies have existed, our bodies have been a concern, whether that concern was form or function. Tracing the cultural history of hips, we could begin with the ancient Greeks and Romans. These civilizations revered the human body as a divine creation, and celebrated its beauty and perfection in art, sculpture, athletics, and philosophy. In their depiction of the ideal human form, the hips played a key role - accentuating the curves and lines that were believed to signify strength, grace, and sensuality. And while their approach to sexuality was undoubtedly different than our own, it's clear that they understood the power of the hips to evoke desire, passion, and transcendent beauty.
For as long as societies have existed, our bodies have been a concern, whether that concern was form or function.
As we move forward in time, we see the hips continuing to play a vital role in cultural expression. In many cultures, for example, the rhythmic movement of the hips was celebrated in dance and music, serving as a form of communication, celebration, and spiritual connection. In Latin America, the sway of the hips became a defining characteristic of the salsa, samba, and tango - passionate and seductive dances that captured the imagination of audiences across the world. And even in more modern genres of music, from rock to hip hop and pop, we see the hips continuing to take centre stage - as a symbol of power, confidence, and unapologetic sexuality.
Of course, the cultural significance of hips hasn't always been positive. In many societies, ours included, women's hips were seen as a marker of fertility - and as such, they were objectified, scrutinized, and even shamed for their shape and size. In some cultures, the wearing of certain clothes or styles was seen as an invitation for unwanted attention or harassment. And in our own time, we're still grappling with a cultural legacy of body-shaming, beauty standards, and gender inequality that can make it difficult to fully celebrate the beauty and power of the hips.
But even as we acknowledge these challenges, it's clear that the hips remain a powerful symbol of human connection, desire, and expression. They remind us that our bodies are not simply vessels for our minds, but are integral parts of who we are as individuals - and as a culture. And speaking personally, my own hips have borne the weight of these cultural tropes as well, something which has not always been an easy journey.
I’ve never been able to ignore my hips. The minute I hit puberty, they swelled out, and by 18 I had an exaggerated hourglass figure which I resented. Trousers never fit me, clothes weren’t designed for my body - and people felt entitled to comment on my body on a wildly regular basis. When you inhabit a body which errs on the dramatic side, which is far from the standard set of a slim size 6-8, it’s impossible to not stand out. This is truly a double edged sword. I know I turn heads in the street, even when I’m dressed down in no make up, leggings and a huge jumper.
When you inhabit a body which errs on the dramatic side, which is far from the standard set of a slim size 6-8, it’s impossible to not stand out.
Often these comments are positive and even enjoyable - a man once stopped me on the street to tell me I had the ideal body, that he simply couldn’t walk past me without telling me this. I can frequently see people visibly distracted by my figure - it's unusual and eye-catching! But people also feel entitled to comment in a less than favourable way. Many men have told me I have ‘child bearing hips’ which is quite frankly a bizarre thing to say to someone. I think they mean it as a compliment? Others are more blunt - I get called fat or gross. People film me in public to laugh at me. I don’t say this expecting sympathy - I’m a tall, super curvy woman with bright hair, I don’t hide away and I’m usually wearing bright, tight clothing. But it’s impossible to talk about bodies without being upfront about the negatives as well as the positives.
I think a lot about fat bodies in sex work, about my body and the bodies of the people I meet. I think about my physicality, how for some people, my body is their worst nightmare, a moral failure, something to be avoided at all costs. I see other sex workers on twitter spending thousands of pounds to escape the horror of being fat. These same people often respond to my pictures with rapturous praise, desperate to show that they’re body positive, inclusive, that it’s just their body they desperately want to shrink, not mine.
Anna Mirzayan writes, “there exists a tension between spectacle and repression that is so often at work regarding fat bodies: Fat people are subject to an imperative to hide, make themselves smaller, disappear or stop existing completely, by a populace that nonetheless needs fat bodies that exist in specific acceptable ways — as entertainment, moral analogue, before-and-after horror story, or as vehicles for humor. The duelling desires of people whose worst nightmare is inhabiting a fat body often express themselves in shaming fat people to exit social spheres, only to bring them back as objects for popular consumption.”
These sentiments are double for fat bodies in the sex industry, where the bodies of fat people meet society's desire for them. Society tells us that men who are attracted to fat women and femmes don’t exist, or if they do, they’re gross and comedic, or perverse. We’re a fetish. But I know this to be untrue. I have clients who see me purely due to my body shape, but I also have clients who see me because they think I’m funny, because they think I’m a good conversationalist, or just because they think I’m hot! I have duos with other plus size workers, but I also have duos with thin workers - because shockingly, desire isn’t linear, and people have the capacity to be attracted to people of all shapes and sizes.
Society tells us that men who are attracted to fat women and femmes don’t exist, or if they do, they’re gross and comedic, or perverse.
Doing sex work for me has been above all, an exercise in curiosity - about people, about sexuality, about bodies. And to be curious is to open yourself up to pain and to pleasure, to new heights of emotion. My curiosity about my own body, played out on the knife edge of the sex industry, has given me confidence I never dreamed possible. I love my body - truly, madly, deeply. I love every curve, every roll, every stretch mark, every flaw. And I know I’m not alone - my body not only brings me happiness, but also brings happiness to those I choose to spend time with. It is, as I am, worshipped and adored.
In the end, it is the hips' ability to evoke desire, ignite passion, and nurture connection that defines their cultural history, but these are concepts fraught with tension, throughout the centuries. They are a symbol of our shared humanity, transcending borders, cultures, and eras. The hips have always been a conduit for intimacy and expression - learning to love mine has been a long and rocky journey, but worth it. The title of this piece is a tongue in cheek nod to one of my favourite films, but learning to love my love handles has been at times as tense and ridiculous a journey as Kubrick’s masterpiece - but also just as satisfying. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
So, the next time you catch yourself in a private moment, as you caress your own hips and feel the power that resides within, remember the history that brought you here. Embrace the sensuality they represent, the stories they carry, and the connection they forge between our bodies and our desires. For the hips are not merely a body part; they are a canvas upon which the tale of human intimacy is painted, begging to be explored, savoured, and celebrated.
Are you a sex worker with a story, opinion, news, or tips to share? We'd love to hear from you!
We started the tryst.link sex worker blog to help amplify those who aren't handed the mic and bring attention to the issues ya'll care about the most. Got a tale to tell? 👇☂️✨
