Shame On You, Shame On Me
“Pedendum 2”
The vilification and objectification of the vulva have been deeply entrenched in patriarchal societies throughout history. Women's sexuality and reproductive abilities have been viewed with suspicion, fear, and disgust, leading to the stigmatisation of female genitalia.
Feminist theorists have long argued that the cultural taboo surrounding the vulva is rooted in notions of female inferiority. This discomfort has led to its omission from art and media, further perpetuating a cycle of shame and silence. The act of hiding the vulva, omitting its depiction in art, or censoring women's bodies—such as through the removal or obscuring of nipples in media—serves to reinforce and perpetuate harmful societal norms. This censorship is not a neutral act; it contributes to the continued marginalisation and objectification of women's bodies, fostering a culture where natural female anatomy is deemed shameful or inappropriate. Such practices not only perpetuate stigma but also deny women the opportunity to see their bodies represented in a positive and normalised manner.
My own journey with this subject is rooted in my experiences growing up in the Philippines, a country known mostly for its beaches rather than its conservative values. I considered myself progressive in my views on the female body and female autonomy. However, after moving to Basel, I quickly realized how different cultures shape varying levels of progress in topics such as feminism. This realization struck me profoundly when I read about the removal of a simple line representing the woman's vulva on the Pioneer Plaques from NASA in the 1970s. The fact that scientists and specialists—individuals dedicated to facts and truth—chose to erase this line out of discomfort and embarrassment, while the man's penis remained fully depicted beside it, shocked and angered me. However, my outrage gave way to shame as I reflected on my own past artworks.
“Pedendum 5”
Though I had always considered myself forward-thinking in my depictions of the nude female form, I realized that I too had subconsciously omitted this line, failing to represent the vulva in my work. All my female bodies were positioned in ways to celebrate the female form, while also covering on of the most important features of a woman. Whether this omission stemmed from ingrained habits shaped by my conservative surroundings in the Philippines, or something deeper within me, I came to the shameful realisation that I had censored myself. Despite being a woman and living with this anatomy every day, I had failed to recognise it and portray it with the honesty it deserved. This recognition compelled me to correct my past oversights by finally including this “simple line”.
This “simple line”, though a full abstraction of the female vulva, already holds so much power. I see it in the discomfort of people viewing my art, as they ask if it’s necessary. I see it in the developed feminists who ask why I don’t place more? Seeing the line as a censorship in itself. But when placed in context of my origins, and many in the world who haven’t devlved deep into dangers of female misrepresentation, this censorship is actually a step forward. From my own experience one cannot leap into a new world, but has to slide into it gradually. Perhaps that is the experience I am then trying to share with others. As much as this journey represents my own unfolding from shame, I see it as a potential path that others—those who may not yet be comfortable with the subject—can follow along with me. I have observed that people generally fall into two categories on this topic: those who are aware, who have been exposed to the diversity of vulvas, labias, and the female body in its various forms, and those who avert their eyes whenever confronted with anything related to it. Therefore, as much as this is a personal revelation, it is also my attempt to gently guide those who may need smaller steps into accepting the true female form, rather than overwhelming or alienating them.
“Pedendum 1”
Why is it necessary, some have asked. How can lack of representation of the female vulva be dangerous?
If you believe that in contemporary times there is enough progress and concern, that this matter is no longer the case, then I would point out the rise of labiaplasty—a surgical procedure aimed at altering the appearance of the labia—is just one of the reflections of the ongoing societal pressure for women to conform to narrow beauty standards. This increase in cosmetic surgeries for the vulva highlights the pervasive discomfort with its natural diversity and underscores a troubling trend towards further objectifying and shaming women's bodies. Such trends emphasise the need for a broader cultural shift towards accepting and celebrating natural body variations, or at least letting people know of their existence, rather than modifying them to fit an idealised, often unrealistic standard. It is a stark reminder of how deeply ingrained these cultural anxieties about the female body are, and how they continue to manifest in harmful ways.
To cement the purpose of these artworks, I have intentionally titled my artworks with an old latin word for "vulva", known as “Pudendum”, which literally translates to “Parts to be ashamed of”. I find it interesting how older terms for “vulva” across cultures actually have direct connections to the word “Shame”. In German for example, it wasn’t long ago that the word for vulva was “Scham”, and for the labia specifically was “Schamlippen” (shame lips). I feel this choice underscores the historical and cultural baggage that has unjustly attached shame and disgust to this part of the female anatomy. By confronting these terms directly, I aim to expose and critique the ongoing stigma surrounding the vulva and to provoke a re-evaluation of the language we use to discuss female bodies.
“Pedendum 7”
Lastly, I wish to hold up a mirror to those who are still repulsed by even the mere suggestion of a vulva. The fact that platforms like Instagram, governed by algorithms that automatically censor female nipples and anything resembling a vulva—including a simple line—refuse to allow my artwork to be shared, speaks volumes about the enduring stigma and discomfort surrounding female anatomy even in this current day. I want to confront the absurdity of how something as simple as a line—an abstract representation of the vulva—can still provoke such strong reactions. Through this work, I hope to challenge these deep-seated taboos and encourage a more honest and inclusive dialogue.
There is a growing movement dedicated to reclaiming the vulva and challenging the societal shame associated with it. This movement is part of a larger feminist push for body positivity and self-acceptance, rejecting the notion that women's bodies exist solely for pleasure, consumption and ridicule. Through art, activism, and education, feminists are working to de-stigmatise and celebrate the vulva. This includes promoting comprehensive sex education that highlights the variety of vulva shapes and sizes, encouraging self-exploration and positive body image, and challenging cultural narratives that perpetuate shame and negativity towards the vulva.
My paintings, which feature women proudly displaying their vulvas amidst vibrant and natural settings, are a contribution to this broader movement. By depicting the vulva in a positive and celebratory light and resisting the urge to hide or censor, I hope to foster a growing acceptance. By confronting the negative connotations through the choice of titles, I aim to stimulate discussion, counter the pressures that drive cosmetic modifications and censorship, and promote a more inclusive and affirming view of the female form, one small step at a time.
“Pedendum 4”
