Tickle My Tush: A Review

I was emailed by a representative of a new anal play book asking if I’d like to review it. You bet! So I was sent a copy of Tickle My Tush by Dr. Sadie Allison to check out.

It arrived shortly thereafter in a discreet bubble envelope. Inside there was a small book- maybe the size of a salacious checkout-line romance novel that featured a big pair of lips cooing “ooh!” and a review touting, “Bootylicious!”

Hmm. I was skeptical. I turned it over and was assaulted with what I find to be a very off-putting back cover. The color scheme- red with bold white text, the author picture- a heavily made-up, heavily cleavaged woman, the heart-shaped bullet points… Not my scene, honestly. And the brand name, TickleKitty, bums me out.

I took a moment here to examine my reaction. Am I that second wave that I can’t welcome advice from a woman who looks like a mainstream pornstar? I’ll be honest- if I were looking at a picture of someone a little more alternative, less made-up, more real- I’d feel more psyched about opening this book. I took a deep breath, acknowledged that perhaps I wasn’t the target audience of this book, and moved on. On the flip side, this does look like the kind of thing you could pick up at a bachelorette party or in-home sex party. I, however, tend to associate those spots with “novelty” toys and non-body-safe materials and folks who aren’t comfortable enough talking about their bods to be discerning about what they put into them. Would this book be that kind of a product? Is it brilliant marketing aimed to covertly educate that crowd? I tried to put my judgments aside and judge the inside for itself.

I opened the book and honestly read it cover to cover. It took about 45 minutes and I was surprised at how helpful and frank it was. The cutesy names for anatomy danced a fine line for me. G-spot works fine for me- Grafenberg is unweildy- but “a-spot” for “anus” makes me feel like a schoolgirl giggling about the “s-word” or the “f-word.” Also for some reason it peeved me that they wrote “analplay” and “buttplay” as one word, but that is a ridiculous reason to not like something.

The information within was quite helpful. Illustrations are clear and non-repetitive. The side-by-side graphic about the differences in male-bodied and female-bodied butts was enlightening and unique. I loved the way she used the word “color” to delicately and lightly discuss the dreaded “WILL THERE BE POOP” issue, as in “don’t worry if occasionally there is some color.” Ah! How nice! I really like this term and will probably start using it myself.

The book talks about anal play like a really good yoga instructor: it lays out lots of different levels of involvement and encourages you to only go as far as feels comfortable for you. These is a lot of information about safety and consent, but it doesn’t feel like it’s lecturing you. I found the strap-on position illustrations to be especially helpful and wish there had been more! I also liked the tip of towel-placement for ladies during an oily butt-massage to prevent oil from slipping from the butt to the vagina.

I did have some questions left unanswered. I wished there had been more info about the safety issues of unprotected rimming. Protection and rimming were both addressed, but never together, unless I missed it. There are tips about dental dams, but no information about the risks or lack-thereof of unprotected rimming.

I was also heartbroken at how intensely heteronormative this book was. There was literally NO MENTION of same-sex couples, let alone gender- and sex-diversity. I died a little. The illustrations were also all of cartoony barbie and ken-type bodies. It was cutesy, but not size-affirming the way some other books are. Minus points there.

Overall I thought this book had some great information but the heteronormativity was a real deal-breaker for me.

Dr. Sadie, please listen up: All kinds of people like butt play! By ignoring a big group of folks who are non-heterosexual, you contribute to a culture that does the same. As a sex therapist, it is your responsibility to help build a culture that accepts and normalizes the wonderful variety of people who can have all kinds of awesome sex. Please don’t be a dick and ignore them. That is a HUGE turn-off, even for hetero folks like myself.

I may not be your target audience, but I could be a big supporter if you made some minor changes. I’d even let your heart-shaped bullet points slide.

Most sincerely,

Kate