SEX ISSUE
The Western Gazette’s SEX ISSUE
Editor-In-Chief
Adshayah
Front
Page
Page 4:
Page 6/7: Cooper
Page 9: Sophie Bouquillon
Page 11:
Page 12:
Page 15:
Page 16/17: Angwara
Page: 18/19: Cooper Gluskin
Page 21: Madeleine
Page 22: Madeleine
Page 23: Cooper Gluskin
Page 24:
Page 25: Arisia Qarri
Page 26/27: Mina
Page 28: Desmond Mahood
Page 30: Desmond Mahood
Page 31: Arisia Qarri
Back cover:
Special
To all the characters I’ve loved before
Mabel Zhao
For some Western students, love has truly conquered all — even the divide between fiction and reality.
Take Kati Rawn, a third-year English student who describes herself as a huge reader — but not only for the plot. She admits that she often finds herself crushing on fictional characters.
“I love a fictional crush,” says Rawn, who remembers Flynn Rider from the animated film Tangled as one of her earliest.
“I remember being obsessed with him when the movie first came out,” she says. “I was like, ‘oh my gosh, this guy’s really, really cute even though he’s animated.’”
For Rawn, Flynn’s humour and charm, combined with her own love for the film, sparked the crush.
But Levi Macleod, a second-year English and School for Advanced Studies in the Arts and Humanities student, says that fictional crushes made him uncomfortable when he was a kid.
“My friends would be like, ‘oh, I want to marry Harry Potter,’ and I’d be like, ‘but he wouldn’t want to do that though,’” says Macleod.
Today, Macleod has a framed photo of Kim Kitsuragi from the video game Disco Elysium on his wall. While he may have been skeptical when he was younger, Macleod’s stance has now changed.
“Being queer, I think a fictional crush is a lot of the time a way of enacting queerness when you don’t have any other outlet for it,” says Macleod.
Others in the queer community have echoed this sentiment. In an article for the School of the Art Institute of Chicago’s student newspaper, F Newsmagazine, Jose Nateras writes about how fictional crushes helped him and other students discover their sexualities.
“I know a part of my journey as a trans person was realizing that a lot of my fictional crushes were actually people I wanted to be, not just be with,” he adds.
Fictional stories can also be an outlet for representation, as characters help people see their identities and experiences reflected and validated. A survey conducted by the Trevor Project found that 89 per cent of queer youth reported that queer representation in shows and movies made them feel good about being queer.
One popular way for audiences to connect with their fictional crushes is through fanfiction. Macleod says he’s active on Archive of Our Own, a popular, opensource fanfiction archive.
“Fanfiction is a minefield,” he adds. “Some of the best and the worst writing that I’ve ever seen.”
Second-year English student Adriana Santimano Sousa describes herself as “very invested” in the fanfiction community, where — unlike in real life — having more people crushing on your crush only makes things better.
“It’s just so fun to see other people’s interpretations of a character,” says Santimano Sousa. “You’re seeing the character through a new lens and getting the chance to interact with a community who has a shared interest of liking this one character.”
Santimano Sousa says that one of her fictional crushes is Scaramouche from the anime video game Genshin Impact
“I don’t really know why I get drawn to certain fictional characters,” she adds, but admits that her fictional type is often the villain.
A recent study shows that Santimano Sousa is not alone. Most audiences prefer villains in media, as this connection provides a safe outlet for people to explore their darker emotions and urges that are typically socially unacceptable.
Santimano Sousa also says that, while she is asexual and has no interest in sex in real life, “reading fanfics about fictional characters and sex is totally fine.”
In fact, a study even has a term for this: fictophilic asexuality — defined as strong feelings of love, infatuation or desire for fictional characters that can exist in people on the asexuality spectrum.
“I think fictional crushes are fun,” says Santimano Sousa. “I know a lot of people find it strange, but I think it’s pretty unproblematic.”
While fandoms and fanfiction have faced criticism for fostering unhealthy, parasocial relationships — often between fans and real-life celebrities — fictional crushes might just be an exception.
Rawn says that while overly enthusiastic fans may blur the lines between their attachment to a particular character and the actor who portrays it, she believes that “lines can be drawn.”
“People should just enjoy the media and how cute the character is on screen, but don’t go further than that,” she adds.
Macleod echoes this, emphasizing the harmless nature of fictional crushes.
“You’re not intruding on the privacy of some real person,” he says. “They’re all fictional characters, and they’re kind of yours to have fun with.”
Chiara’s Confessions: I went on a blind date
Chiara Wallace
Every year, the Gazette sends an editor on a blind date, orchestrated by fellow editors to find their best match. I might be one of the few editors in Sex Issue’s past who was jumping at the chance. After all, I’ll use any excuse to write about my love life.
The process was mostly out of my hands.
I sent my coworkers a short message asking them to think of potential people, with only a few requirements on my end. I gave instructions to send their candidates to my friend — and coordinating editor — Hannah Alper. Then I waited.
A week passed, and Hannah hadn’t received any outstanding candidates for the date. I trusted her to make the right choice, but I was getting antsy — why was it taking so long? Was no one interested?
Then, I get a text from Hannah in the middle of the night, “Ok wait, so I’m not really sure what to do…” Comforting.
She had set me up with a complete stranger, and I was starting to worry my new episode of Sex and the City was turning into Dateline.
Turns out, Hannah randomly DM’d someone who followed @westerngazettedocs on Instagram asking if they were interested in going on a blind date. Luckily, he shared enough mutual followers with her so she could do the proper vetting, ensuring he was at least normal.
After enough stressing, wondering and failed investigative work, it was time to get ready and order my Uber. While in the car, I assembled a group chat with friends who immediately began harassing me with questions about the date. It all started to feel very real.
So many people were becoming invested in this blind date, hoping it would go well for me. Given my history with first dates, this could easily go poorly and I wouldn’t be surprised.
My three biggest fears going into this date: it’s awkward, it’s weird, he’s a conservative.
Within the first five minutes of meeting my date and sitting at our table at Los Lobos, I knew this date would be good. While he ordered us beers, I shot the group chat a quick text for proof of life and to tell them that my date was much cuter than I expected.
I was surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. He wasn’t intimidated that I was writing about the date — honestly, I might’ve been more nervous than him.
He shared that when he told his roommates about our date, they encouraged him to make it as messy and as bad as possible for the sake of a funny article. It’s a good thing he didn’t take their advice.
After getting our beers, we looked through the menu to decide what to order. He shared his recommendations, and we made a pact to try the beef tongue taco, which was surprisingly good but a little messy to share.
Normally, I’m an advocate for keeping things light and easy on a first date, but the conversation flowed so naturally that I didn’t mind oversharing with a stranger. From music taste to exes, weird landlords to politics and religion, our shared hatred of Business 2257 to our opinions on long-distance relationships — no stone was left unturned.
He listened while I rambled on about the new Wicked movie, and I did the same when he talked about the frustrations of being a Frank Ocean fan. If you put two yappers on a date, the conversation will never end.
When we got the bill, our server asked what our plans were for the rest of the night, and I knew it wasn’t ending there. We walked over to Molly Bloom’s Irish Pub and Restaurant for another beer and more in-depth conversations about our past relationships, siblings and family dynamics.
The date ended with the realization that it was almost 9:30 p.m. on a Sunday during finals, so it was best to call it a night before we got too drunk and sang karaoke.
After a mandatory debrief with my friends, I was hit with the inevitable question: will there be a second date? Call it bad timing or karma, but it didn’t work out. I still had a good night and don’t regret taking a chance on a stranger.
Maybe don’t get your friends to set you up with complete strangers online, but believe me when I say you never know what’ll happen from an Instagram DM.
Dancing bare under the Blue light
Mikaila Kimball
I met Blue Leitch the same way any of you might — under the dim lights of The Bad Bunny Club.
You pay your way through the door, get patted down by security and step into the world of London’s nightlife. The air is warm, tinged with the smell of stale beer as vaguely familiar expensive perfumes swirl around you.
Women clad in colourful lingerie quietly chat amongst themselves near the bar, and patrons are scattered throughout, eagerly awaiting the next dancer.
“You won’t ever catch me wearing red in the club,” laughs Blue.
Blue works as an exotic dancer — a stripper — at The Bad Bunny Club in London, Ont.. She first started dancing there in April 2024.
“I kind of have a cold personality,” says Blue. “But I stay true to who I am and stand on what I believe in, and because of that people called me cold, so they called me Blue.”
Blue describes dancing on stage as feeling above who you are — towering above the world around you, enveloped by music with all eyes on you. It’s a uniquely rewarding experience.
But the girl you see on stage isn’t a persona — it’s an extension of herself.
Blue began working as a dancer because she was experiencing homelessness, and a past arrest made it hard to find work. She started dancing with a clear goal: acquiring her own apartment, which she
achieved within just four months. She’s now saving up to attend university or college in London.
When she first started, Blue says she was scared shitless. But she’s always loved the attention of others, and dancing has allowed her to embrace it.
“It might not be a singing stage,” says Blue, “But it is a stage.”
Her mornings start just like anyone else’s — with a fruit smoothie and a shower.
She’s up around noon and takes her time styling her hair. Her bag is packed with deodorant, baby wipes and multiple outfits. Typically, Blue will change her outfit two to three times a night.
Blue’s alluring lingerie draws in customers — which starts to collect the smells of patrons, their touch leaving scents from all over the city on Blue’s outfits. Outfit changes also keep people interested — more clients, more money.
“It keeps them turning heads,” says Blue.
A lot of thought goes into the music used for Blue’s dance routine, noting that her Jamaican heritage influences her choices.
“The biggest thing is sensuality, you want to be able to play into what you give off,” says Blue.
I was surprised to learn that a lot of Blue’s sessions — her name for private dances and individual time — centre around conversations, not dancing.
Her clients often come to the club seeking companionship. Many of them are widowed, sick, divorced or elderly people.
Blue’s greatest strength as a stripper isn’t her prowess on a pole, but her compassion.
“They just want to be seen the same way that you’re being seen,” says Blue.
Her clients would rather use their money on someone they know — like Blue, dancing to make ends meet — than blow it in the casino.
While she gets along with the other girls, the club’s atmosphere is competitive. Fridays are the busiest, money is flowing and clients are happy. Thursdays and Saturdays can be more hit or miss. On these slower nights, tension rises as the dancers vie for the attention and business of a few clientele.
“You want to be memorable, just like any other person wants to be,” says Blue.
Having “regulars” — clientele who come in just for them — means you start the night knowing that you are set, regardless of how busy the club is.
She highlights the difference between dancing out of necessity — like providing for children — and dancing to make fast money to purchase luxury items. Blue emphasizes this career can’t be forever, regardless of any plastic surgery.
“A lot of girls are in it for the wrong reasons, and you notice it very, very fast,” says Blue.
But if you’re using dancing to get somewhere and achieve a goal, Blue makes it clear you’re doing it right.
Blue says she has experienced stigma as a stripper, but encourages people to get to know people in her line of work. She met her boyfriend in the lobby of her apartment building — and while his roommates can look at her sideways, their relationship is filled with trust and communication.
Navigating romantic relationships as a stripper can be tricky. Blue says the most important things are trust, communication and not meeting your partner in the club. If they first met you while working, Blue feels they have been allured by the “you” at work, and it may be unsettling to think of you meeting other people the same way.
To maintain a healthy relationship, Blue ensures her partner knows he’s the one she’s coming home to, cooking for and spending time with.
Outside the club, Blue has a passion for psychology, art and music. She’s started producing music of her own that she plans to release before her 22nd birthday this March. Blue’s dream is to be an art therapist, combining her interests in psychology and visual art.
“This is just a pit stop,” says Blue.
To swipe, or not to swipe: The modern-day digital dilemma
A follow request on Instagram, secret glances at your phone and the rest is history. In a generation where meeting someone often starts with a swipe or a DM, people are starting to look up from their screens and wonder — what happened to meeting someone in real life?
These days, everything from grocery shopping to writing assignments happens online — it makes sense that we find romantic partners there too.
Treena Orchard, a health sciences professor at Western University and author of Sticky, Sexy, Sad: Swipe Culture and the Darker Side of Dating Apps, explains the allure of early online dating.
“We swipe for everything else, but now we can do it also for romance. There was that novelty aspect,” says Orchard.
After dealing with “the madfuckery on there” Orchard says users feel like the “fun and mysterious part about sex and relationships just seem to have withered away.”
Orchard discusses how, while online dating platforms initially drew people in, over time users often ended up feeling disillusioned and let down by the endless world of opportunities and potential partners they once imagined.
“People don’t want to be treated like a game, and they don’t want to be just swiped on and treated as though they are not a real person,” says Orchard.
Orchard echoes the sentiment that after yet another failed talking stage, one more person asking you
Anna Jagga
your favourite colour can feel like a nail in the coffin for digital romance.
Andie Shabbar, a professor in the Faculty of Information and Media Studies, has spent her career researching sexuality and dating. She points out how social media and dating apps have become the new public square, for better and for worse.
“Healthy boundaries have been really blurred because of that constant connectivity and communication that you can have with others,” says Shabbar. “Now there’s this expectation to always respond, to always reply, to always be available.”
While technology has made connecting easier than ever, Shabbar explains it can fuel digital fatigue and emotional burnout — the heart never has time to grow fonder when distance doesn’t exist.
“I think it is really taking away from our intimacy that we used to have with one another,” says Shabbar.
On top of that, Shabbar notes that social media presents a curated reality. From Tinder to Instagram, people are encouraged to craft their online personas to be how they want to be seen, not how they are.
“I think there’s also this one-dimensional view we get of people because it’s just a profile we’re seeing,” says Shabbar.
The one-dimensional view stems from the first glance at someone’s dating profile — political affiliation, education level and whether they drink or smoke creates an un-
realistic expectation of the people you swipe on.
The platform’s algorithms allow users to create a highly controlled and tailored experience that allows them to meet exactly who they want — or who they think they want to meet — a stark contrast to the traditional dating landscape Shabbar remembers.
“People met somebody, had a conversation and learned about them slowly, kind of opening up and having a dialogue between their differences,” says Shabbar.
By creating instant perceived compatibility, these platforms create the illusion of finding a “mirror image” partner — someone who is exactly like you, which is what users think they want — but this can create a lack of depth required for a healthy relationship.
Orchard agrees that online spaces have become meaningful places to connect for intimacy and community. But they can also lead to a retreat in online spaces that closes doors to other ways of life, dulling our interpersonal skills.
“It can really, really reinforce our sense of being alone, and also, it can really make us feel like we can’t do it. You know, ‘only on the app can I do this,’” says Orchard.
But just when it seems like the majority of fish in the sea are hooked on dating apps, now comes the resurgence of analog dating — meeting potential dates in person, which Orchard says is making a comeback in the pushback against dating apps.
“I think it is a really interesting trend that we’re seeing now, like matchmakers and all these like activity-based approaches to dating, running clubs most famously.”
Analog dating is now being marketed as new and innovative when, really, it’s always been here. Orchard says the growing demand for in-person interactions is part of a broader cultural shift.
Shabbar suggests trying to meet people offline.
“You can just do it as a little bit of an experiment, meet someone in the library or in the coffee shop or whatever, and see how that goes,” says Shabbar.
Rather than choosing between digital and analog dating, find the right balance for yourself. While the real world may lack the convenience of Tinder or Instagram, your intuition can lead you to relationships no algorithm can predict.
“We are human beings. We’re not cyborgs. Set boundaries for yourself in terms of how you use media, and really find ways to do things in the analog world, because that’s really how genuine connections are made, and we need more of those,” says Orchard.
‘If they wanted to, they would’ is toxic
Paniz Vedavarz
If you’ve ever gotten relationship advice from TikTok, one phrase likely stands out: “If they wanted to, they would.” It sounds straightforward — until it isn’t.
The phrase suggests that if someone genuinely cares or is interested, they will make an effort to show it — through actions, communication or prioritizing the relationship. It serves as a reminder that actions often speak louder than words.
But while actions are important, they don’t always tell the full story.
Using a six-word phrase as a relationship philosophy oversimplifies complex human behavior. Early interactions may not always reflect someone’s true intentions or feelings. People are often navigating personal challenges, past traumas or insecurities that can impact how they show up in a relationship.
But that doesn’t mean they don’t want to show up.
Assuming that someone will always act on their desires overlooks the fact that they may not have the tools, confidence or emotional readiness to do so.
There have been countless times in my life when I cancelled a date, not because I wasn’t interested in the person, but because my anxiety took over. It’s not that I didn’t want to show up to my date — I couldn’t. Cancelling plans and being unresponsive can be red flags, but they might also stem from personal reasons. While it’s important for your partner to take responsibility for healing and working through these behaviours, we’ve all been there. Instead of jumping to conclusions about another person’s feelings, we should try to extend grace and understanding to one another.
So many of pop culture’s most popular relationships wouldn’t exist if this phrase were consistently true — take a look at Jim and Pam from The Office. Jim only confessed his feelings after years of subtle moments, internal struggles and hesitations. If Pam had followed the mantra “If he wanted to, he would,” their iconic love story might never have unfolded.
I also see a lot about how people are contributing financially in relationships when it comes to this philosophy. But the truth is we’re in university and a lot of people are just trying to get by. I’m not saying your significant other shouldn’t spend money on you — dates are important and sometimes that costs money. But I’m all for equality and a big believer in switching to pay the bill.
If they can’t splurge on Aritzia for your birthday, that doesn’t mean they aren’t there for you. Recognize and work with them to find a love language that makes you feel appreciated while keeping their bank account intact.
I understand the desire to save time and energy, but this mantra diminishes your agency in a relationship. It encourages passivity by creating a power dynamic where you’re left to interpret someone’s intentions solely based on their actions, as if you can read their mind.
But spoiler: you can’t. Healthy relationships require both parties to actively engage, communicate and work together. If you don’t know why someone isn’t being responsive, ask.
This kind of thinking gives one person all the power to decide where the relationship is going. It’s not about excusing bad behaviour — if anything, it lets people off the hook for treating others poorly just because they don’t want a serious relationship.
It makes it seem like basic decency — like being honest and sharing how they feel is optional if they’re not interested. Why have we let this become normal in dating?
Relationships are more complex than this catchy TikTok soundbite suggests. Effort is important — but so are compassion, communication and understanding. We should embrace the messy reality of relationships, where growth, vulnerability and shared effort create meaningful connections.
Instead of worrying about what they might want, focus on what you want — and have the courage to ask for it.
Kiss me thru the phone: Falling in love with AI
Arisia Qarri & Eshal Naqvi
Imagine customizing the perfect partner.
Free of emotional baggage, always open to listening and never judgmental — just like that, chatbots might be the new romantic craze.
The concept can seem alien at first — straight out of a sci-fi film, complete with middle-aged men and moral dilemmas. Yet, about a decade after Spike Jonze’s Her, people are forming relationships with chatbots, artificial intelligence coded to respond like humans.
Luke Stark, assistant professor in the Faculty of Information and Media Studies at Western University, suggests this is just a new form of an old phenomenon.
“Humans are very good at projecting emotions onto animated characters of all kinds,” says Stark. “People assume that [an AI system] is more sentient or alive, or has a deeper emotional life than it actually does. It’s called the ELIZA effect.”
Back in the 1960s, Massachusetts Institute of Technology professor Joseph Weizenbaum created ELIZA, a simple chatbot designed to mimic human language. ELIZA managed to convince users of its sentience, even passing for an annoying employee.
Now, many users of chatbots like Replika or Character.ai seem to be
turning to these platforms to form new relationships. When both apps rolled back sexual content, they faced backlash from users — many of whom had become romantically and sexually involved with the Artificial Intelligence.
OpenAI even released a report before releasing ChatGPT-4o, touching on users’ risk of developing an emotional reliance on the application, especially with the human-like audio capabilities of GPT-4o. They reported that “during early testing … we observed users using language that might indicate forming connections with the model.”
User responses included language expressing shared bonds — such as the user writing, “This is our last day together.”
Psychology seems to back up Stark’s view. Media equation theory, coined by researchers at Stanford University, suggested that people assign human traits to computers and media, mentally equating them to humans. The more human-like an object is, the easier it becomes to humanize it.
One way chatbots make this easier is by bringing fictional characters to life. Western alumnus Jason Cao has been working on a chatbot that allows people to talk to custom characters — including those from published media.
“A lot of [users] just want to chat with their favorite characters from video games or their popular franchises that they’re part of the fandom for. That’s the most common thing,” says Cao.
The appeal is getting to “see them come to life,” he adds.
In the larger context, it makes sense that people might turn to AI for stable connections. Statistics Canada’s 2021 survey indicated that one in 10 people reported always or often feeling lonely. But are chatbots the solution to this problem, or just an addictive hiccup?
“I think the social disruption caused by COVID certainly made it the right time for the development of an AI chatbot,” says Stark. “We were all spending far less time with friends during the height of the pandemic. In some ways, the trajectory of COVID, or post-COVID, has a lot to do with how technologies let us connect, or not, during that time.”
Chatbots don’t limit users to only making romantic partners — users can form friendships with them, confiding their deepest desires without fear of rejection, judgement or exposure. Cao says that although he owns his platform, everything is encrypted — even from him.
“I think that allows them to be a lot more natural with them because it’s not another person. The bot can’t judge them,” says Cao. “They are basically free to be completely open to these bots without any kind of feedback, whether that’s positive or negative, and I think that gives them that sense of security.”
But the appeal of privacy in chats can be just as dangerous as it is comforting. Cao admits that moder-
ating more dangerous interactions is difficult based on users mental health and how addicted they are to the site.
“I think that is an almost unavoidable negative side of AI chatbots,” says Cao. “That’s not something that we can really fix, but that’s also something that’s not good.”
Despite challenges in moderating content, chatbots don’t seem to be going away anytime soon. Compa-
nies like Realbotix have begun integrating interactive AI into physical robots, marketing them as “transcending the barrier between man and machine.” Their Harmonyx design is an extension of the concept— AI placed into functioning sex robots.
The future of robot sex leaves little to be desired — and the emotional response to chatbots may only be foreshadowing what’s to come.
FAVOURITE PICKUP LINE
• “Are you from Mississippi? Cuz you’re the only miss ... whose piss ... I’d sippi.”
• “l’ve got 206 bones in my body ... wanna give me another one?”
• “Are you lighting? Because you’re McQueen.”
• “Girl are you a fart, cuz u blew me away.”
• “I just pull out my fidget spinner.”
SEX SURVEY
Based on 299 responses
WORST SEX STORIES
• “I was 69-ing with a guy, and I was turning back around to change positions and I accidentally kicked him in the face.”
• “He dapped me up and said 'chill' after he finished.”
• “I meowed like a cat because I was bored.”
• “I asked him what movie to put on in the background and he picked his favourite childhood movie, A Bug's Life, and stopped multiple times to watch scenes.”
• “Had sex in the woods and got bit by fire ants.”
• “We were doing doggy, I looked back, and he waved at me.”
SEXUAL FANTASIES
• “ To get a guy to bark like a dog.”
• “Me. Glen Powell. Enough said.”
• “Fucking on a fur rug in front of a fireplace”
• “A guy dressed as the Mandalorian or Anakin Skywalker.”
• “Have you seen Nosferatu?”
How to break up with someone
Sophia Schiefler
Breaking up is hard to do. Hoping to put an end to your relationship without a disaster? The Gazette has you covered. Here’s six helpful strategies to help you part ways so you can enjoy your time at Western University to its fullest.
Time it right
Nothing says thoughtful like timing your breakup for Valentine’s Day, their birthday or finals season. There are countless opportunities throughout the year to make it memorable.
As a bonus, you won’t have to worry about buying a present!
Make them dump you
Scared of initiating a breakup? No worries, make sure your partner does all the heavy lifting. Start fights, forget an anniversary, buzz your hair or get extra clingy. Keep putting in the work — eventually, they’ll do it for you.
You’ll get all the sympathy points from your mutual friends when they find out you’ve been dumped! Sounds like a win-win.
Ghost your boo
Still scared? Don’t worry, this quick fix will allow you to simply disappear rather than have a meaningful conversation. Stop responding to their texts, block them on social media, dodge their calls and vanish — poof. Remember: when you inevitably run into them at The Ceeps in a couple of weeks, make sure you have an excuse ready. Did you lose your phone? Go on a journey of self-discovery?
Send the text: “I think we’ve just grown apart.”
Short, sweet and to the point. Help them to get over you quickly by ending things in the most impersonal way possible — a text. How long does it take to type “It’s not you, it’s me?” Much quicker than sitting through a full, tearful conversation.
Pro tip: lighten the mood by sending your ex a game of 8-ball after the breakup. Staying friends always works out!
Send in the friend
Have you ever had a friend who’s said they would do anything for you? There’s no time like a breakup to remind your bestie of the fact they still owe you for that Uber ride you paid for a few weeks back. A good friend wouldn’t make you initiate an awkward breakup conversation when they could do it for you, would they?
But, be careful of the next favour they ask of you — you’ll owe them for life.
Public nuisance
Picture this: you’re eating dinner at a nice restaurant with your partner. The wine is flowing, the conversation is great and they’re starting to wonder if there’s a ring in their future. Then you say it. You’re breaking up with them!
Give the surrounding customers dinner with a show, and leave your separate ways after. But be careful to avoid glasses of water being thrown in your face!
Vanity reflects: The life of a London drag queen
Madeleine McColl
By day, she’s a dedicated school nurse. By night, she’s a drag queen sparkling under the stage lights and doing a round-off to Doja Cat’s “Boss Bitch” in high heels. One thing’s for sure: Vanity Affair knows how to entertain a crowd.
“She is that independent, bad bitch,” says Vanity, when asked about her drag persona.
Vanity has been performing in London Ont. since 2019, after years of helping local queens get ready behind the scenes and watching their shows from the other side of the stage.
“I was always part of the queer community. I came out very early. I came out at 16 and was born and raised here in London, so I was very much a part of the queer scene for a very long time before I started drag,” says Vanity.
Her name comes from her drag mother and long-time best friend, Kenzie Vanity. A drag mother refers to an experienced drag queen who mentors newcomers to the art of drag. In Vanity’s early drag days, Kenzie taught her makeup techniques and passed down the wardrobe she had from her own closet.
The name is also inspired by the iconic magazine Vanity Fair, with her own personal twist to subvert the audience’s expectation of stereotypical cover girls.
“I always wanted to be a very fashionable, very feminine-leaning drag queen. So it came from that. But I also don’t believe in beauty standards the way that they’re always portrayed in magazines,” says Vanity.
You can find the queen hosting all sorts of events across the Forest City, including drag paint nights at Hello Maker, drag brunches at Winks Eatery and pottery nights at Crock a Doodle.
Vanity runs events through Affair Entertainment, a business she co-owns with her partner Ben — also known as Bengelina Jolie.
“He does this impression that’s like Britney Spears meets Marilyn Monroe, but very masculine at the same time. And he does it every single show, and people have really started to know him for that,” says Vanity about Ben’s “Happy Birthday” renditions, which have become a staple at Vanity’s shows.
Affair Entertainment was born in October 2021 to create more LGBTQ2S+ art spaces where drag performers are treated with respect.
“Especially me being a drag performer myself and my partner, being a trans man, we saw the opportunity to provide a new space for London,” Vanity says.
Vanity and Ben’s hard work has not gone unnoticed in the city. In
2023, Vanity Affair was awarded Best Drag Entertainer of the Year by Pride London, and in 2024, Affair Entertainment was awarded Best Promoter of the Year, determined by a community vote.
But drag isn’t Vanity’s full-time gig.
Outside of drag, Alex Bonnar heals as a full-time school nurse Monday to Friday, then puts on heels all weekend to perform in drag as Vanity Affair.
Alex is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, and Vanity goes by she/her pronouns.
Before Vanity Affair was born, Alex studied health sciences at Western University for two years before transferring to Queen’s University’s accelerated nursing program.
“I moved out there, and I didn’t have as many friends and was looking for things to do to fill the time and keep my mental health going … so I started really practicing [makeup] in my room, and was just scared to go out,” says Vanity.
Alex returned to London after graduation and jumped heels first into the local drag scene a month later.
In a full-circle moment, years after Alex entered Western as a frosh, they strutted across the Orientation Week stage in 2024 as Vanity to perform for thousands of first-year students.
Vanity has returned to Western multiple times to perform at the Grad Club, in events with the University Students’ Council and hopes to work with the school more in the future.
“When I went to school at Western, there was, like, no queer resourcing. I don’t remember there being very many queer events. I didn’t have a lot to pick from,” says Alex. “And I feel like I was kind of forced to go and join straight spaces because I needed to make friends, and I felt very lonely.”
Alex is excited to see the increase in queer spaces on campus where students can express themselves and find community.
As someone who has faced scrutiny for their identity, Alex has made it a priority throughout their career to create spaces in London where the LGBTQ2S+ community feels welcome.
When Alex came out when they were 16, it was not initially well-received by their father.
But 10 years later, on the anniversary of their coming out, Alex’s father walked beside Vanity in the London Pride Parade and watched her receive the Entertainer of the Year Award. Alex says he’s now Vanity’s biggest fan.
“He can just let me be me and love me for that and for him to be there and watch me win, that was unreal, to be honest,” says Vanity.
“My dad found out I was going to the Pride Parade and asked me, and I wasn’t gonna lie about it anymore, so I told him, and it went really badly, and we really weren’t okay for a long time,” says Alex.
Over the past few years, Vanity has noticed an increase in protests against drag, coinciding with drag bans and anti-trans rhetoric in the United States.
The London Free Press reported a 67 per cent increase in hate-related occurrences towards the LGBTQ2S+ community in 2023. Protestors were arrested for aggressive behaviour at the local Pride Parade and drag queen storytimes.
“The most important thing you
can do to support queer art, and specifically drag, is to show your support outwardly right now,” says Vanity. “I think that, unfortunately, being quietly supportive isn’t enough right now because the haters and the protesters are being so loud with their contrary positions.”
Vanity continues to advocate for safe queer spaces in the London area and reach new heights in her career. She had the opportunity to work on a television project with
Canada’s Drag Race winner Priyanka, and hopes to one day debut on the show herself.
With flawless hair flips, killer choreography and captivating confidence, Vanity inspires audiences to mirror her excitement for the art of drag.
“She walks into the room and radiates an energy of she’s hot, she knows it, she doesn’t need a man to make her feel worthy. She is the prize,” says Vanity.
Who pays on queer dates?
It’s the end of a date; you’re sitting across from a stranger, and the waiter approaches your table with the bill. Suddenly stuck in social limbo, you’re faced with few options: pay, offer to split or let them offer to pay. What do you do?
Paying the bill on dates can lead to awkward moments and is often a common topic of debate in the minds of dating singles everywhere. But a different perspective can be found in queer relationships, whose dynamics extend beyond social expectations.
For Jade Dunn, a fourth-year English and School for Advanced Studies in the Arts and Humanities student, the rule is simple: the person who does the asking out should pay. In her experience, it’s common to treat the topic of who is paying as a conversation — emphasizing open communication.
“I think people, especially in queer relationships, aren’t sure if they’re treading on toes,” says Dunn. “I often have talked about it when I’ve gone on dates with people.”
In her own relationship, Dunn and her partner discussed who pays for their dates and agreed on a back-andforth method. While her partner en-
Om Shanbhag
joys taking her out for dinner, Dunn prefers a more equal approach.
“If someone is paying for all the dates, then it feels more transactional, and I would feel kind of bad about that,” says Dunn. “I think regardless of who’s in the relationship, it’s a power dynamic.”
She adds that while certain people enjoy treating the other person to the date, this is a layer that Dunn feels doesn’t come up in heterosexual relationships, which default to dating norms and societal expectations.
Dunn says her heterosexual female friends either expect men to pay or choose to split the bill, while her queer friends are more willing to split the bill or treat their significant other.
Taking turns spoiling each other in relationships is part of the fun, says fourth-year international relations student Wade Masse, agreeing that whoever plans the date should pay.
“I always make sure that I’m the one paying if that’s the activity I re quested to do and the thing that I plan to do,” says Masse. “But often times, that’s not always a value that’s understood or reciprocated by ev erybody, and sometimes peo ple would prefer to split the check.”
He considers reciprocity a hallmark of same-sex relationships, with both partners providing for each other at different points during the relationship.
Masse explains this dynamic contrasts with heterosexual relationships that lean on predefined, albeit misogynistic or patriarchal, norms.
“When you’re getting to know somebody for the first time, they also provide a roadmap of what’s the normative behaviour for how you’re going to progress and get to know each other, and for same-sex relationships, that’s kind of thrown out the window,” he says.
In same-sex relationships, Masse says there’s a lot more “checking out the vibe” to understand each other. But it can be complicated when
Masse says expectations around paying in first meetings are compounded for queer people, who are more likely to find partners online. A study by the Pew Research Center shows that 51 per cent of lesbian, gay and bisexual adults in the United States have used dating apps, compared to 28 per cent of straight adults.
This reliance on digital connections means queer relationships often need to explore to find each other’s best communication styles and figure out the financial aspects of the relationships.
When it comes to the added layer of navigating financial expectations, fifth-year English and history student Asher Gris would prefer to split the bill. They feel that no one person should pay or not, and who pays depends on each date.
Sharing stories of heterosexual female friends who experienced men demanding to pay or look like the one paying, Gris remembered a man even going so far as holding their date’s bank card and using it to pay.
“Wanting to pay for a first date for no real reason is kind of just an act of chauvinism and wanting to be perceived as overly generous. I think it’s a bit performative,” says Gris.
They say the fluidity of queer relationships provides freedom from the defined expectations and roles of heterosexual relationships.
Gris says that they’ve never felt attached to gender roles, so they’ve never even considered the dilemma of paying for a first date. On dates, splitting the bill just feels natural.
“It really does go to show how different expectations are,” says Gris. “Because this is something that I have never consciously thought of before now.”
Western Sex Positions
Chiara Wallace & Hannah Alper
The University Drive Bridge
The University Drive Bridge can get pretty crowded, but it brings us together as a com munity. So the more, the merrier right? If you thought hundreds of people on a bridge was a crowd, try just three. You’ll be having so much fun you’ll forget you’re not in Par is, France, but the equally romantic London, Ontario.
The Twin Bed Tango
No personal space? No problem! This is all about getting freaky while squishing together in a bed barely big enough for one. Whether you’re the little or the big spoon, every sign of claustrophobia just adds to the fun.
The Rec Centre Set
Take your workout to the next level with this intensive cardio experience. This is a chance to test your strength and balance with the wheelbar row. This move is guaranteed to burn calories, plus you can do it from the comfort of your own home.
The Social Science Scissor
Just like the Social Science Centre’s sturdy structure, this move proves that some things never go out of style.
The Quiet Floor Quickie
If you don’t have time to leave the library for “stress relief” during a busy study session, why not kill two birds with one stone? Whether it’s between the stacks or in the
hold on tight, and ride until you get where you need to go.
So you got an STI
Angwara Nilanont
Talking about sex can feel awkward. Talking about sexually transmitted infections? Even worse. For many of us, high school sex-ed barely scratched the surface of this topic.
Whether you’re new to learning about STIs or just looking to stay informed, this guide will break it all down — what STIs are, their symptoms and how to talk about them.
What is an STI? And how is it different from an STD?
A sexually transmitted infection occurs when bacteria, viruses or parasites are passed from one person to another through sexual contact. This includes unprotected vaginal, oral or anal sex with someone who has an STI. While “STI” and “STD” are often used interchangeably, the difference is that a sexually transmitted disease is an infection that has progressed to cause symptoms.
Symptoms vary depending on the type of infection. For example, syphilis can show up as painless sores and body rashes, while herpes simplex virus causes blisters around the mouth, anus or genital area. Signs to watch out for include soreness or itching around the genitals, painful urination and swollen lymph nodes in the groin.
But some STIs, like chlamydia and gonorrhea, may cause little to no symptoms. This means a person could have an STI without knowing
it, which can delay treatment. Without treatment, these infections can lead to serious health issues like infertility or chronic pelvic pain.
That’s why routine STI testing is important for protecting both you and your partner.
Routine
testing: A healthy habit
Shaya Dhinsa, a manager of the sexual health clinic at the Middlesex London Health Unit, explains that testing for STIs is not just isolated to checking for infections after sex but instead can be a part of your routine health checkups.
“We will often say that there are different times to be tested. When entering a new relationship, both partners should get tested to ensure neither has an STI. If you have frequent partners, [you might] get tested on a more frequent basis,” she says.
Dhinsa explains getting tested often is important depending on the number of contacts or level of sexual activity you’re participating in.
Western University’s Student Health and Wellness Services offers STI testing, along with other sexual health services like birth control, pap tests and family planning counselling. The MLHU also provides free testing.
Like going to the dentist, incorporating yearly STI testing can be another part of caring for your health.
There are many kinds of STI testing, including athome
tests
Testing for an STI can be as simple as a urine test. Other methods include throat swabs, pelvic exams, blood tests or physical exams for rashes or warts.
At-home STI testing kits are also widely available and provide a convenient way to check for infections. For example, the MLHU offers free GetaKit testing kits for HIV, syphilis, hepatitis C, gonorrhea and chlamydia.
It’s important to note that not all STIs show up immediately after exposure, so you may need to test again after a few weeks for the most accurate results.
Starting the conversation
Taking the first step toward STI testing can feel intimidating, but it doesn’t have to be.
“There shouldn’t be shame attached,” says Dr. James Stewart, a physician team lead at Western’s Student Health and Wellness Services. “These are conversations we should feel very comfortable about having as part of our development, exploration of our sexuality and understanding the pleasure of sexuality.”
Even now, STIs still have a massive stigma associated with them.
In a column for the New York Times, obstetrician and gynecologist Dr.
Jen Gunter calls STIs “one of the last taboos.” By avoiding discussions about STIs, people will feel less willing to learn about them and get tested when they need to.
“If you’ve got questions, throw them at me. We’re happy to take the questions, and we will provide some guidance,” says Stewart. “We will try to provide some level of education because we really want to help people understand and avoid future complications.”
What happens after a positive test?
If you test positive for an STI, remember you’re not alone. Receiving a positive STI test result is a normal and common experience when being sexually active. Treatment depends on the infection — some STIs are easily treated with antibiotics, while others may require ongoing care to manage symptoms.
Dhinsa explains that while the MLHU is required to notify any contacts who may have been exposed, clinics maintain confidentiality and will not disclose your name.
By getting tested regularly, practicing safe sex and having open conversations with your partner, you’re not only protecting yourself but also building trust in your relationships.
Remember, sexual health is just health — it’s okay to ask questions, seek support and take charge of your body.
Diving deep into the erotic reads at Weldon Library
Madeleine McColl
Bondage, butts and boobs, oh my! No need to keep these in your incognito Google searches because you can find them in none other than the Weldon Library.
Believe it or not, the D.B. Weldon Library hosts a massive Playboy Magazine collection and books that truly put the strip in comic strips.
Also located in the Pride Library is a “Kink Collection” with books and other mediums specifically “devoted to licentious, carnal and generally very kinky topics,” according to the library website.
While it may seem scandalous, accessing these materials is easy. The “Kink Collection” books are non-circulating, but available to students when inside the Pride Library — just try not to blush.
If you’re looking for something like a vintage Playboy issue or an erotic French comic, you’ll need to venture to the Weldon Archives and Research Collections Centre to specially request these materials from a librarian.
Deborah Meert-Williston, a special collections librarian for the Archives and Special Collections at Western Libraries, is the keeper of these collectables, from everything from rare books to local history pieces and comic books.
The Playboy Magazine collection meets “rare book” criteria, so they are kept with Weldon Archives and Special Collections under Meert-Williston and her coworkers’ care.
While these magazines are steamy, they are kept in a temperature-controlled room to prevent mould, insects and anything else that would deteriorate them.
“Because they’re ephemeral, they weren’t meant necessarily to last like comic books,” says Meert-Williston. “They meet rare book criteria because of their fragility, because of their scarcity, because of the difficulty it would be to replace them.”
If you request access to these magazines, you can peruse them in the comfort of the Archives and Special Collections Reading Room. The pages are filled to the brim with perfume ads, pretty women and well, panties — but where did they come from?
The Playbook Magazine collection includes 491 Playboy issues spanning from 1963 to 2005 that were donated by Ken Bauman and an additional 24 issues that were missing from the collection later donated by The Playboy Association.
The Weldon Archives and Special Collections also houses an incredible 15-volume set titled “Les Chefs-D’oeuvre De La B.D.E.” translating to “The Masterpieces of Erotic Comics.”
This set of rare comic history books was donated by local comic book-collecting legend and Western alumnus, Eddy Smet.
The retired Huron University College mathematics professor estimates he has collected between 35,000 to 40,000 comics over his lifetime, with his collection spanning everything from Star Wars and Star Trek to Westerns and Tarzan comics. The erotic comic books are just
a sliver of his collection.
Smet’s collection of more suggestive comics ranges from “good girl art” and “pin-up art” to more intense comics including “erotica” and “the risqué.”
Over the last year or so, Smet has taken a special interest in curating a collection of books documenting the history of comics to contribute to Weldon Library. He came across the 15-volume set about the history of erotic comics on eBay and bought the entire set for around $800 from France.
“This [collection] to me as a source, is fantastic. It’s a 15-volume. So I said, ‘I gotta start collecting,’” says Smet. It may come as a shock to some that these erotic reading materials may be found in a library, but they act as valuable educational research materials.
Meert-Williston thinks there is much to be studied in these materials, including the artwork, the advertising, the photography and more.
Not to mention, some iconic writers and illustrators contributed to the erotic reading scene back in the day. Margaret Atwood wrote for Playboy Magazine and Steve Ditko — of Spider-Man comics — and Joe Shuster — of Superman comics — both illustrated for fetish comics at some point in their careers.
“When we have really strong women’s studies programs, history programs, English programs, we want to have the material to support those programs. So this material just makes sense to have for those areas,” says Meert-Williston.
Smet also believes that studying comic books can show cultural shifts that have taken place all over the world and reveal what was once considered acceptable or taboo.
“I think it’s important to have because it is such a fundamental interest that people have in a subject. You can call it all you want, I mean, sex is what sells,” he says.
Smet has donated around 12,000 items to the Weldon Library so far — but he’s not done yet.
In the future, Smet plans on donating around 50 original Tijuana Bibles — miniature comic books that were produced underground and became popular around the 1930s and 1940s — to the Weldon Library.
These “bibles” were graphic and often depicted characters and movie stars from popular culture engaging in sexual activity.
“At that point in time, you’d be in trouble if you got caught with these things … you would have been arrested, you would have been jailed,” says Smet. “All the action was illegal, the buying, the perusing, et cetera, everything connected with them.”
While accessing these “bibles” was risky for readers back in the day, Western students will soon have the luxury of finding them on their own campus.
“There’s so much stuff out there, from the silly to the very serious,” says Smet.
You shouldn’t be friends with your ex
Editorial Board
As comedian John Mulaney once said, “Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die.”
Okay, that might be a bit dramatic.
But being friends with your ex is not the move. Losing a partner usually means you’re losing a friend, and that sucks. The drama and emotional turmoil that can ensue just isn’t worth whatever friendship you might foster post-breakup — regardless of how much you miss them.
Navigating any new genre of intimacy is tricky, but shrinking the emotional intimacy of a relationship into a friendship is like trying to dunk a full-size basketball into a kid’s net. It’s just not going to fit — the feelings are too big and the space is too small. Inevitably, there will be blurred lines, confusion and someone getting hurt.
Can you really trust yourself to maintain boundaries with someone you care about enough to stay close with post-heartbreak?
If you started out as partners — and not friends — going from romantic to platonic feels like learning a whole new language to speak in. You might manage some level of communication, but things are bound to get lost in translation.
Picture this: you’ve gotten the Western University romance of your dreams.
Library dates over coffee from The Spoke, walking hand-in-hand through the campus’s fall foliage or splitting a popcorn at the McKellar Theatre’s latest throwback movie screening.
Then suddenly: Ding. Ding. Ding.
Their phone lights up, and the texts sure aren’t from you. It’s from their friend … who also happens to be their ex. We don’t know about you, but this would make us feel like shit. You might know that you and your ex are strictly platonic, but that doesn’t mean your current partner will feel the same.
Maintaining a close friendship with your ex could end up sabotaging any future relationships you might have, especially early on.
If you wouldn’t want your partner to be friends with their ex, there’s a good chance they feel the same way. Do them a solid and hit that block button — or at least mute.
It’s also important to recognize that you broke up for a reason. A close relationship with this person might not be in the cards for you, despite how well you get along. Chemistry isn’t everything. Hell, how many reactions end with an explosion?
Sometimes, breakups end on bad terms and trying to build a friendship out of the broken bits of your relationship could just leave you both with a gaping emotional wound.
If you’re considering being friends with an ex, ask yourself: why? Maybe it’s for practical reasons. You share a workplace, a friend group or a close-knit program. Being friends — or at least friendly — can save you from awkwardness and tension that might be best to avoid.
But being friends to maintain the emotional intimacy and connection you once had? It’s bound to get messy, no matter how mature both parties might be.
Listen, we’re not saying a friendship with your ex is impossible. Maybe months later, when you’re both healed and moving forward with your life, you could consider reintegrating them back into yours. But it can be as treacherous as sailing through an ocean filled with icebergs in the middle of the night.
And we all know how that ended for the Titanic.
Turn up the aux
On the two-hour drive to London Ont., music is a constant. My dad and I might not talk all the time but in the car, it feels like we’re best friends. I show him Olivia Rodrigo and Noah Kahan, and he shows me Phil Collins and Sinéad O’Connor. In the four doors of his car, music is a language we speak across generations — it brings us together. He tells me stories about where he was when he first heard a song, or what it means to him. It’s those moments I know what I want to be when I grow up — like him.
Watermelon
I’m quite picky about the piece of watermelon I’ll choose from a bowl. I don’t like when it’s juicy, red and sweet, but rather stale and crunchy. After living away from my mother for a while at university, I forgot how nice it is to have someone else prepare food for you. When I was home one day, she called me into the kitchen to offer me some watermelon. I was given an entire bowl of the white bits near the rind of the watermelon. I had never seen something so beautiful, I nearly cried, and that was love.
The door next to mine
Finding home has never been easier since I met you. Turning up at the door to your room, heart in my hand, weighing my thoughts upon scales of judgement that you hold. It’s your company that keeps me going, your humour that finds me in my darkest moments, your love that makes me smile. How does it feel to be a part of home for me? How does it feel to love and be loved? Ever since I began rooming with you, I’ve never been less alone. For now and forever, I’ll see you standing in your doorway, beckoning me to your open arms, your presence welcoming me home.
Tiny Love Stories
Tell me a story
“One sec — let me close my eyes,” I say. My head rests on the pillow, and I pretend it’s your chest as your imagination flows through my phone’s speaker. You paint pictures of bunnies on garden adventures, sharks on deep-sea journeys and road trips shared by hand-holding lovers. The awe-inspiring worlds you create seep into my dreams as I fall asleep, but my favourite story will forever be about you and me.
Just the four of us
It wasn’t the four of us when we entered high school, but it was the four of us when we left. We have been four points on the map for the past four years, and it took us four months for our life’s Venn diagram of commitments to intercept. We called for four hours and played four games of UNO. I wished it lasted four hours longer. After we hung up, the four corners of my room felt a little brighter. And, in every universe, I would gladly wait another four months to have the four of us together again.
When I knew
Someone asked me recently, “When did you know you were in love?” I remember after our first date — where conversation flowed easier than it had with anyone — I did schoolwork at your apartment while you read a book. We talk a lot, and it was one of the first moments when we were harmlessly silent — and I looked up at him, and I knew. It’s been every laugh, every look, every conversation, every harmless silence. I realize I’m even crazier and deeper in love everyday.
