Vagina Monologues puts it out there

Poo-nanny, monkey box, mookie, pee-pee, a tamale- if you haven’t named it, Vagina Monologues can offer more than a few suggestions.
“I see a hell of a lot of women here tonight,” one of the actresses boomed in front of a full house at the D. B. Clark Theatre in the Hall building Monday night, the first of three benefit performances. “We see a few men too. We’re soooo glad you’re here,” she cooed.
What started as an off-Broadway show has quickly become a renowned show that not only clears up a few of the “myths” behind the never-spoken-of vagina, but liberates women by giving it a strong and prent voice.
“There are 8,000 nerve fibers in the clitoris, which is twice that of the penis,” one actress joyfully exclaimed. “Who needs a handgun when you have a semi-automatic?” In a monologue entitled My Angry Vagina, another woman asserted, “My vagina wants chocolate and trust and beauty. It wants to scream. It wants. My vagina wants everything.”
A few personal interviews with women on their “mookies” have quickly become a symbol of both celebration and empowerment for the female population. A program called V-Day College Campaign put on the Vagina Monologues in hopes of raising awareness and money to stop violence against women. Proceeds from Concordia will be given to The Native Women’s Shelter, The West Island Women’s Shelter, and Multi-Femmes. The program hopes to inspire other students in colleges and universities to make similar strides towards such an important cause.
The monologues probe into unique areas of the female anatomy, like asking, “If your vagina got dressed, what would it wear?” Actresses cluttered on folding chairs beneath red lanterns strung above the stage enthusiastically replied, “Mink!” “A male tuxedo!” “Sequins!” “Something machine washable!” “A slicker!” “An electric device to keep unwanted visitors away!”
Other extremely moving and brilliantly acted monologues dealt with anorexia, women’s rights in Afghanistan, and female circumcision. At the same time, light-hearted pieces such as The Flood, (use your wildest imagination), was able to balance the serious and light-hearted throughout the show. “You just know it’s there,” an actress portraying an elderly woman said matter-of-factly when asked about her vagina. “Like the cellar. The pipes make noise, and sometimes people have to fix the leaks, but otherwise the door stays closed.”
There was another question during the monologues, one that may be even more shocking than the first, that the cast of 13 women brought out into the open – what does your vagina smell like? “Earth,” one actress shouted. “Like a brand new morning,” another chimed. “Yummy candy.” “The South Pacific.” “Vinegar and water.” It was the directivity and honesty of the show that kept the guests both laughing, and a few blushing.
During the intermission, guests had an opportunity to read up on the Vagina Monologues and V-Day, as well as get information on services such as GIVCL, a prevention group for battered lesbians (
“My shirt skirt is not an invitation,” an actress declared while black-skirted women stood behind her during the latter portion of the performance. “My short skirt is not a legal reason for rape. Believe it or not, my short skirt has nothing to do with you.
My short skirt is a liberation flag in the women’s army. My short skirt and everything underneath it is mine.”


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