From “hussy,” “floozy,” “tramp” and “tart,” to “hoe,” “skank,” “whore” and “slut,” we certainly have no shortage of names to call a promiscuous woman. The word “whore” was first used in the 16th century to refer to a prostitute or harlot, while “slutte” was first used in the 15th century to describe a slovenly, untidy woman. From old Germanic dialects, to Old and Middle English to now, words like these have continued to develop in order to comment on and police womens’ sexual behavior.
While these terms have been created and continually used toward sexist ends, they have been similarly adopted by the group these words are most often directed at: women. This can, in some cases, take the form of women using the same misogynistic terms against other women. Even when used by women, these words and their connotations just can’t seem to be shaken, and thus, many have called to make the move to abandon them altogether. In the words of Tina Fey’s character Ms. Norbury from “Mean Girls,” “You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it ok for guys to call you sluts and whores.”
Beyond cruel intent, however, these words have been increasingly used as terms of endearment, as a means of reclamation. For some, using these terms around trusted friends is a way of taking away the strength of their sexist connotations. “Slut” has specifically been used to platform protests against sexual violence via the SlutWalks, which arose in response to a Toronto police officer’s advice “to avoid dressing as sluts.”
“Whore,” “slut” and all their synonyms are words with centuries of sexist, deprecating baggage. To overcome objectification and the expectation to be both appealing and pure, we can rewrite the definition of these words and turn them into compliments or a title of power. A slut is no longer a slovenly, untidy woman, but instead a woman who understands her power and holds the reins of her sexuality.
But, counter to these terms’ judgment of female sexuality are words that scrutinize a lack thereof. On the other side of the same sexist coin, terms like “prude” and “frigid” criticize a woman’s disinterest in or refusal of sex — but they remain largely abandoned by this movement of reclamation.
Compared to words connoting sexual promiscuity, words connoting little to no sexual experience, like “prude,” have taken on a less desirable meaning. To be sexually liberated means shirking the confines of a female sexuality and instead becoming an empowered woman. This empowered woman, unencumbered and even emboldened by shame, is in control of her sexuality in a way that can only be demonstrated by sexual prowess.
However, this creates a double standard of sexist slurs. At one end stands the weak and demure woman — the prude — who is out of touch with her power and sexuality. At the other end is the courageous, powerful slut who breaks free from her cage of sexual expectations by having as much sex as she wants. One could be forgiven for believing that the dichotomy between the slut and the prude is equal to that between the repressed and liberated woman, though that’s far from the actual case.
Historically, it was advantageous in some respects to ostensibly be a prude. From Aristotle to contemporary Catholicism, prudence has remained a cardinal virtue stressed particularly for young women. When taken to the extreme, a strong emphasis on prudence manifests in harmful teachings like purity culture. While prudence on its own is far from damaging in how it values caution and thoughtfulness, both perceived and active prudence are not fully protective measures. As evidenced by stories in the wake of the #MeToo movement, simply refusing sex is not always the most accessible way of eluding a dangerous situation of sexual assault.
Under the scrutinizing eyes of an objectifying society, women have always had to walk a fine line between saint and temptress. If reclaiming terms like “whore” and “slut” will truly reallocate power to women coming into their sexual identities, then we also must expand our vocabulary of sexual empowerment to include “prude,” too.
If a sexually empowered woman is in control of her sexuality, then it’s imperative to recognize that not having sex falls under such an umbrella. Sex may be refused for a myriad of reasons, ranging from asexuality to religious objections to simple disinterest. These reasons don’t add up to a repressed woman or a poor feminist, but instead a woman making informed decisions for herself.
Whether a “whore” or a “prude,” whether “slutty” or “frigid,” it’s essential to recognize that these are only terms, and fluid ones at that, defining only one facet of the self. One may go from sex and sex and sex one week to little to no sexual interest the very next, and can you really put labels to that? With an expansion and reclamation of the word, being a prude doesn’t have to mean being modest or prim — it can mean knowing sex isn’t a sole means of empowerment through setting healthy boundaries for oneself.
Audra M. Woehle is an Opinion Columnist who writes about gender and sexuality in popular culture. She can be reached at awoehle@umich.edu.