Porn Industry

People assume there are a lot of pitfalls in the adult industry, particularly in porn, and I’m here to tell you that indeed there are. Well come on now, of course there are. Any environment that offers a disproportionately large helping of excitement, sex (and other miscellaneous forms of indulgence) carries a risk of leading one down a dark path. One that leads to a place where too much sex is never enough, and where the surfeit, rather than making us full, creates a feeling of emptiness and meaninglessness.

But there are other cautions, too. An obsession with youth, beauty, and bodily perfection, perhaps understandably, permeates the adult industry. Even with the MILF craze there is a distinct understanding (often spoken and easily observed) that it’s the 18-25 sect who are considered “in their prime” as sexual performers; as “hot girls.” Male performers may have a bit longer shelf life, but surprisingly, not much longer. Once a guy gets into his 30s he’s no longer considered the hot young stud, especially if he’s been working for a while. He’ll enjoy “tweener” status for just a brief time before the sudden acceleration into “Daddy, Stop Fucking My Friends!” territory.

Due to this paradigm, many adult performers demean themselves by trying to hold onto their “youth” long after they should — or can. Adult industry conventions are teeming with “women of a certain age” dressed in belly shirts, mini skirts, and stripper heels. Women who look 17 years old from behind and some indeterminate age when they turn around. They don’t look young, they don’t look old. They sometimes don’t quite look human. Over-injected lips glossed to a high sheen, flaxen blonde hair extensions falling to their waists in Disney mermaid-like waves, skin that has so much filler and botox holding it still that you can’t tell if they’re smiling or sneering, happy or terrified. (Maybe they’re not sure, either.) And once the men get upwards of 40, I’ve seen some of the same embarrassing behavior. I’m sorry, but too much jewelry, dyed, thinning hair and True Religion jeans on a guy crowding 50 doesn’t tend to look fantastic. The message this behavior sends, to the world and to each other is: you don’t have long here, and there’s no way out. So just try to keep blending in — forever.

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