Photo Via @KenyaPEACHESK on twitter

Camylla Joseph

Staff Writer

Summer is a beautiful season that brings joy to those eagerly waiting for its return. With flowers in full bloom and warm weather, the haunting winter depression seems to finally be melting away. Each day adds more possibilities to the list of things to do; outdoor gatherings become more frequent, late-night walks around the city are a must, and terrace dinners feel just as essential as hiking up Mont-Royal. As the weather improves, fashion naturally shifts towards lighter and shorter clothing to help us stay cool. The heat encourages us to shed layers, allowing our skin to breathe and soak in the warmth of the summer air. Sundresses, flowy skirts, and other airy outfits become the go-to for many.

With all of the possibilities that summertime offers—fashion and activities-wise—there’s one particularly bold expression that stands out. What captures the essence of summer more than slipping into nothing but a curve-hugging bodycon dress, freshly painted white toes, posing on all fours, back arched, and legs splayed away from the body—in order to perform the beloved position commonly known as doggystyle  Nothing else! After all, summer is also known as backshot in a sundress season with no panties on! 

The “sundress season” craze has been circulating on the internet for quite some time now. Like clockwork, as soon as the temperature rises above 20°C, one can expect to see posts—often sexual in nature—appearing across various social media platforms, celebrating garments that bear little resemblance to a traditional sundress. Instead of the flowy and light dress most people imagine when they hear the word sundress, the term has increasingly come to refer to tight, body-con, curve-hugging garments that create a “naked-but-clothed” effect. When people talk about “getting it” in a sundress, they’re often picturing a body-con dress—tight-fitting and form-revealing—rather than the true sundress, which is lightweight and relaxed, usually made from breathable fabrics like cotton or linen.  The eroticization of this piece of fabric goes beyond a simple joke. 

This trend caught the attention of social media user @prettyweirdg0rl, who, in a video posted on February 6, 2024 described the phenomenon as “performative backshots.” According to @prettyweirdg0rl, the way we discuss sexual practices often resembles a form of performance art, with expectations that mirror those placed on professional adult performers. These performative behaviors in our sexual relationships didn’t emerge overnight. They’ve developed alongside the rise and normalization of pornography and platforms like OnlyFans. It isn’t an overstatement to say that our understanding of sex is heavily influenced by how adult performers portray it. Whether we realize it or not, the way we view and engage in sex is becoming increasingly theatrical.

Performative backshots have become a genre of their own and are much more present in our daily lives than we might think. Things such as changing our diets in preparation for sex, bragging about sexual experiences, or shaming others for not engaging in the same practices as us all fall under this umbrella. The urge to perform sexually and publicly demonstrate that we’re having sex—rather than simply experiencing it—stems from a variety of factors, making it difficult to trace back to a single cause. Interestingly, a decline in sexual activity among Gen Z and Millennials has been observed, as noted by Dr. Justin Lehmiller in a Kinsey Institute study involving over 3,300 participants. This drop might help explain some of those performative tendencies. A lack of real-life sexual experience among younger generations may prompt some to turn to pornography as an educational resource; especially since traditional sex education, frankly, sucks.

Many of us can recall the boredom of sitting through annual sex education classes, hearing the same things over and over again throughout the years. The usual messages—use protection, take Plan B if needed, use lube—start to blur together and feel repetitive. While these are essential pieces of information, they only cover a small part of what sex actually involves. Sex education often leaves out other questions that many may have asked themselves regarding sex. Things such as how to give a blowjob, how to try different positions, how to perform cunnilingus, and more aren’t often answered by sex education, and it may feel as if those questions are taboos that shouldn’t be discussed. Without real-life experience or a comprehensive guide, many young people are left with no other choice but to form their own opinions and ideas about sex with whatever’s available, which often happens to be porn.

An anonymous Dawson College student, who admitted to never having intercourse, confessed that she feels as if “pornography is made to be seen as perfect and it actually makes you think sex is supposed to work like that, when it doesn’t. So many expect their first time to be porn-like and then reality hits them.” Without experience, it’s easy to turn to pornography as the default reference for understanding sex, which often results in mimicking behaviors that are not intended for non-performers.

Pornography and OnlyFans videos are performances made for entertainment purposes. Everything is scripted, rehearsed, and filmed multiple times. These scenes often depict encounters between two strangers who barely know each other but still perform extreme acts such as choking, spanking, spitting, slapping—under 30 minutes and often with a clear lack of communication and consent. These videos are designed to be eye-catching and engaging, but when replicated during intimate moments, they can be dangerous and violating if done without consent.

Given that this is the mainstream portrayal of intercourse, it’s not surprising that many, both inexperienced and experienced, might feel it’s expected of them. Defying it might not be easy for many who believe that’s what they’re supposed to like—and that not liking it might make them a prude, or even worse—it could make them vanilla.

While there’s of course nothing inherently wrong with being vanilla, the sexless generation definitely thinks otherwise. There’s a silent pressure surrounding sex—to have good sex and to be good at sex—and some people’s idea of having great sex is to be everything but vanilla. Some might even remember sharing their BDSM and rice purity test results, excited to proudly show their friends how low their scores were, wearing it like an honorary badge that discreetly says “I am better than you,” like a constant validation that the sexual performative behaviours they have been engaging in aren’t vain if they’re seen as better than the rest.

There’s a growing pressure not only to be good at sex but also to prove it to others. Often, this need to showcase one’s sexual prowess or kinkiness manifests in the form of shaming hypothetical people; usually those perceived as less adventurous. In a TikTok posted by the user @chenamoore, the following text can be read in her video:

“Might not be the one you marry, but I’m 100% the girl you’ll think about at 2AM, lying next to your vanilla-ass wife with the personality of paint drying, wondering if I ever stopped being a feral rat.”

Despite not being “the chosen one,” @chenamoore expresses a sentiment that resonates with many who engage in performative sexuality—the desire to be remembered, desired, and validated through sexual identity.

Performing intercourse may leave some feeling like they’ve done everything right—that they have followed the script by being someone’s personal pornstar—and that despite not being the chosen one, their performance was so great, they have fulfilled the societal duty that is performing sex like your life depends on it. Unforgettable; timeless.

The need to be the best unpaid sexual performer can be seen as a subconscious way to compete with others, and the competition doesn’t start in the bedroom—it starts in the kitchen.

The obsession with having a “good” vagina is something many women feel pressured to achieve. Whether it is by taking probiotics, drinking cranberry juice cocktails, and sometimes even taking supplements, the idea of starting the performance early is ingrained into a lot of minds. There’s a belief that their performance won’t be good enough unless everything “down there” is perfectly prepared—despite it being, most of the time, fine. This mindset adds an unnecessary layer or pressure and shame onto the individual who never asked to be part of this performance in the first place.

It is hard to not feel the need to perform when we are constantly reminded that something must be wrong with us—that we should want more, do more, try more, explore more, change more. Despite not being alone in this issue, it isn’t comforting to know that others also feel this societal pressure to be constantly sexually ready. It reinforces a sense of exhaustion. 

“Performative backshots” might sound like just cheeky wordplay, but it does bring awareness to some sexual topics that haven’t been explored before. It’s worth pausing to ask ourselves: Why am I doing the things I do during sex? Is it because I genuinely enjoy them—or because I feel like I’m supposed to? To that, I say: let’s put the sundresses back in the closet. Let’s have fewer planned and performative backshots, and more spontaneous, eye-contact-heavy missionary. Any, or course, all with the consent of all the parties involved!