I know Phillips only through her social media – how could it be otherwise? – and, to me, posing poolside or by mountains, she is a study in vulnerability: the loneliest almost-naked girl in the world. What a brand! She has a valuable tale to tell, but she tells it obliviously, almost psychically, with her body, and we should listen. Phillips is a pornographer: a sex-worker. For too long now – two decades at least – women have been told that sex-work is benevolent, pain-free (if you avoid the chiding of second wave feminists, who hate you more than anyone, apparently) and, above all, an act of personal agency. Phillips said herself: why not charge for what you give away for free? She does not seem to understand that there are emotional possibilities in every sexual – I cannot say romantic – encounter: for recognition, for understanding, for love. But not in a line-up, and for money. It is impossible.
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