There’s no point to a guy yelling, “Hey sexy baby” at me out of the passenger window of a car as it speeds past. Even if I was into creepy misogynists and wanted to give him my number, I couldn’t. The car didn’t even slow down. But that’s okay, because he wasn’t actually hitting on me. The point wasn’t to proposition me or chat me up. The only point was to remind me, and all women, that our bodies are his to stare at, assess, comment on, even touch. “Hey sexy baby” is the first part of a sentence that finishes, “this is your daily message from the patriarchy, reminding you that your body is public property”.
For his delightful series Snog, famed fashion and portrait photographer Rankin captures couples of all genders, races, and ages engaged in passionate kisses.
“There’s nothing quite like loving someone you can’t have. Nothing quite like accepting that, and forgetting that, and then having it suddenly, inexplicably come back around. A chance, an offer of better timing, and suddenly you’re lit like a city again.” (x)