TW: Mentions of slurs, explicit language and genitalia
For centuries, women’s bodies and the idea of female sexuality have remained a source of fascination for men, often misunderstood and misrepresented. Men have historically portrayed this in ways that they saw fit, often reinforcing existing social inequities and furthering the othering of women. These depictions of the vagina have profoundly shaped our views on women’s bodies and sexuality, and this is reflected in art, literature, medicine, and other spheres of life even today.
These depictions of the vagina have profoundly shaped our views on women’s bodies and sexuality, and this is reflected in art, literature, medicine, and other spheres of life even today.
A more equitable society—one where women and their bodies are treated with dignity and the notion of male supremacy is challenged—is only possible when we reinvent the language that sustains such structures. There is a need to contribute to this effort.
What the vagina is clearly not
In their publication Socio-cultural Representations of the Vagina, authors Virginia Brown and Sue Wilkinson identify seven recurring negative depictions of the female genitalia in literature and art.

They emphasise the need to challenge these representations to promote women’s sexual and reproductive health. We can explore a few of these representations recurring in literature and discuss their broader implications.
The vagina as inferior to the penis
Sigmund Freud introduced the concept of “penis envy” in his 1908 article “On the Sexual Theories of Children.” He posits that a girl’s realisation of her lack of a penis leads to feelings of inferiority and shapes her psychosexual development. To Freud, women were simply men without penises. His ideas reflect a broader societal tendency to view the male genitalia as superior to the female, reinforcing a hierarchy in which the penis is idealised as a symbol of power, strength, and masculinity.
This gendered bias is evident in the use of the word pussy as a slur to demean men, portraying them as weak, fragile, or cowardly—qualities traditionally associated with femininity. The term pussy is derived from “pusillanimous,” which means “lacking courage,” and has no direct connection to women. Nevertheless, its misinterpretation and contemporary usage perpetuate sexist stereotypes.
The vagina as a (passive) receptacle for the penis
Euphemisms for the vagina, from terms like oven (1500s) and keyhole (1600s) to more modern ones such as love tunnel, velvet glove, and cum sponge, reveal a persistent cultural framing of female sexuality as secondary to and defined by male sexuality. These terms reduce the vagina to a passive, utilitarian role—a receptacle for the penis—thereby erasing its autonomy and multidimensional significance.

This representation prioritises heterosexual relationships and portrays male sexuality as active and dominant while limiting female sexuality to a complementary, submissive role.
The vagina as disgusting
Slang terms like beef curtains, stench trench, clam, and hairy potter invoke disgust and discomfort, reflecting a long history of cultural attitudes that frame women’s bodies as dirty and unlikeable. Women grow up in a world that reinforces the idea that their bodies smell or are unpleasant, leading many to dislike natural processes like discharge, which they perceive as smelly and nasty.
Women grow up in a world that reinforces the idea that their bodies smell or are unpleasant, leading many to dislike natural processes like discharge, which they perceive as smelly and nasty.
Feminine hygiene products, marketed to eliminate “feminine odour,” reinforce these notions, with items like scented pantyliners and sprays, promoting the idea that the vagina is unsanitary and in need of constant maintenance. Despite scientific evidence that the vagina is naturally sterile and clean, these products cater to the cultural obsession with masking its supposed odour.
This mentality is rooted in centuries-old beliefs, such as in 16th and 17th century France, where women’s genitals were referred to as “parts of shame,” a sentiment reflected in the Latin term pudendum, meaning “to be ashamed.”

Even today, girls grow up internalising these stereotypes, developing shame, disgust, and humiliation about their genitals, often unable to view or accept them without discomfort. This enduring legacy of societal narratives ensures that women’s bodies remain sites of control, shame, and disempowerment.
The vagina as dangerous
The Malleus Maleficarum (1487), infamous for institutionalising witch hunts, illustrated female sexuality as dangerous and amplified the belief that women’s sexuality possessed demonic influence and hence, required strict control and suppression to maintain societal and moral order. Similarly, the motif of the vagina dentata—a mythical vagina with teeth capable of eroding or harming masculinity, literally and metaphorically, appears extensively in art, folklore.
Similarly, the motif of the vagina dentata—a mythical vagina with teeth capable of eroding or harming masculinity, literally and metaphorically, appears extensively in art, folklore.
The Vagina Dentata as depicted in art and literature, and even in religious texts reflect deep-rooted anxieties about female sexuality and its perceived threat to male dominance. More modern euphemisms such as penis fly trap, snatchbox, and carnal mantrap further portray the vagina as predatory, and attempt to vilify female sexuality, reflecting the psychological and cultural fears surrounding it.
Representations of the male genitalia
Representations of the male genitalia, both modern and from the past, are a stark contrast.
Look at some of the words that were broadly used to talk about the penis, across centuries. Terms like iron and plough were prevalent in the 1500s, needle was widely used in the 1600s, jock (1700s), lovepump (1900s) and jammer (2000s). Anaconda, hot-rod and butcher-knife are some modern euphemisms.
In 2013, Jonathan Green, a British slang lexicographer, put together a catalog of almost 2,600 genitalia words and phrases dating back to as early as the thirteenth century, by sifting through several thousand books, newspapers, scripts, dictionaries and other written documents. He discerned a disturbing pattern. The themes of genitalia words have largely remained unsettling over time.
He said, ‘The penis is often going to be some kind of weapon, the vagina some kind of narrow passage, intercourse some way of saying ‘man hits woman.’‘
Similar patterns emerge elsewhere as well. Lal Zimman, celebrated linguist and a scholar of dirty-talk, spent years analysing how people of different genders associated genitalia words with their own bodies and described sexual experiences. ‘Overall it’s really clear that the way we talk about genitals is a super concentrated representation of how we think about sex and gender,‘ he says. ‘Like penises are always weapons that exist for penetrating, sex is always violence, and women and vaginas are passive and absence, just a place to put a penis.’
Most importantly, the erogenous zones of the vulva, the G-spot and the clitoris, have been systematically excluded from the way we refer to women’s genitalia.
Most importantly, the erogenous zones of the vulva, the G-spot and the clitoris, have been systematically excluded from the way we refer to women’s genitalia.
This phallus-centric perspective goes beyond genitalia words to describe the act of intercourse as well. Look at some of the most common verbs used to describe sex: nail, bone, drill, smash, bang, screw. This perspective is so deeply ingrained in our minds that the word fuck automatically conjures the image of a penis, even though the term itself does not actually suggest one.

Before the fifteenth century, “to fuck” meant “to strike”. This association exists solely because people think it’s not possible to fuck without a dick. Vagina on vagina sex? That is not real sex. This perspective illustrates the person with the erection as both the star and the narrator.
C’mon, it isn’t a big deal..or is it?
The experiences of the biological body are constructed by social, cultural and historical contexts. In such contexts, the socio-cultural representations of the vagina exist as resources, a backdrop against which a woman’s and a man’s understandings of the vagina develop. As such, representations are not simply ‘ideas’, but have tangible impacts on people’s lives, with potential implications for women’s sexual and reproductive health.
These portrayals of male and female genitalia reinforce patriarchal and heteronormative norms, which glorify male sexuality, center male experiences and desires while sidelining female sexuality to secondary or passive roles. They promote the belief that heterosexuality is the only natural sexual orientation, and that gender is binary, with clear-cut roles and expectations for men and women. Such linguistic patterns expose deep-seated societal constructs, while also actively reinforcing them.
Never take the power of words too slightly
Language has long been a tool of control that shapes societal norms, reinforces hierarchies, and perpetuates systems of supremacy. Words evolve into narratives that decide who wields power and who doesn’t, often embedding biases that reinforce patriarchy, racism, heteronormativity and other similar systemic issues.

Terms and phrases used to describe bodies, behaviors, and identities frequently reflect and reinforce these imbalances, limiting possibilities for self-expression and autonomy. To dismantle these systems, it is imperative to dismantle the rules on which the systems are built, starting with language.
We need a radical reimagination of how we describe women’s bodies and sex. For starters, we could just use the classic vagina and get rid of all other euphemisms. There’s absolutely no reason to make the female genitalia sound scary (snake pit, ax wound), or mysterious (pink portal, Eve’s tunnel, the promised land) or palatable (flower, tulip, honey pot).
There’s absolutely no reason to make the female genitalia sound scary (snake pit, ax wound), or mysterious (pink portal, Eve’s tunnel, the promised land) or palatable (flower, tulip, honey pot).
We could then include the other parts of the vulva, especially the erogenous zones, while describing female genitalia, to mainstream the idea of female sexuality and female pleasure. We could also start describing sex from the vagina’s standpoint—phrases like “I clit-grinded him into oblivion,” or “we labia-locked all night long,” or “I cocooned him into silence”—this would radically subvert hetero-patriarchal linguistic patterns and pave the way for a more inclusive, equitable society.
About the author(s)
Adithya (he/him/his) is a political consultant specializing in research and communications, currently on a ‘strategic sabbatical’ to pursue his passion for writing. Beyond engaging in political debates, he is drawn to reading and film, especially works that challenge the status quo. He has a particular affinity for works on feminism, geopolitics, and history.